MORE than a century after the 1914 Amalgamation, Nigeria remains an experiment in search of equilibrium — a federation that calls itself one nation but behaves like a forced partnership. Nowhere is this contradiction more visible than in the enduring tension between the predominantly Muslim North and the largely Christian and traditional South.
The question is as direct as it is uncomfortable: What does the North really want from Nigeria?
If the North’s dominant aspiration is to live under Islamic law and moral order, while the rest of the country desires a secular democracy, why has the idea of parting ways become unthinkable? Why does a region that insists on Sharia still seek to rule, legislate for, and benefit from a secular union it fundamentally disdains?
This essay does not aim to provoke division, but to illuminate hypocrisy. Nigeria cannot move forward while pretending to share one national ideology when, in truth, it houses two distinct civilisations — one theocratic, one pluralist — locked in a reluctant marriage held together by oil revenue, political expediency, and historical guilt.
The root of Nigeria’s confusion lies in Lord Frederick Lugard’s 1914 Amalgamation, a purely administrative decision to merge the Northern and Southern Protectorates into one colony for British convenience. The North, less economically viable but politically docile, was paired with the more economically active South.
The British sought a single treasury to fund the North’s administration with Southern revenue — an arrangement that created dependency from the very beginning. To maintain stability, the colonial government deliberately protected the North’s traditional Islamic institutions, limited missionary activity, and insulated it from Western education, while the South became exposed to modernisation and Christianity.
By 1960, when independence came, Nigeria was already two nations in one: The North, feudal, Islamic, conservative, and politically cohesive; the South, plural, liberal, ambitious, and intellectually restless. The result was an unstable federation of unequal partners with conflicting visions of civilisation.
The January 1966 coup, led by young southern officers, and the July 1966 counter-coup led by northern officers, exposed Nigeria’s fragile foundations. For the North, the coup reinforced the fear that the South, especially the Igbo, sought to dominate. For the South, the northern retaliation and the massacre of Igbo civilians confirmed that the North saw Nigeria as its inheritance.
The subsequent Civil War (1967–1970) was not merely about Biafra’s secession; it was about the North’s determination to preserve a federation it could control politically. Ironically, the North, which now resists even discussions of restructuring, was once willing to secede in 1953 after the motion for independence “in 1956” provoked outrage in the Northern House of Assembly. Thus, secession was not a southern invention — it was first threatened by the North. Yet today, those who call for renegotiation of Nigeria’s union are branded unpatriotic. The hypocrisy is striking.
Nigeria’s 1979 Constitution marked the formal adoption of a secular framework — declaring explicitly that “the Government of the Federation or of a State shall not adopt any religion as State Religion.” Yet, in practice, successive northern governments have institutionalised Sharia law in defiance of this provision.
By the late 1990s and early 2000s, 12 northern states had formally implemented Sharia criminal law. The rest of the country watched in silence as public amputations, floggings, and death sentences were handed down under a parallel legal system — within a supposedly secular republic.
How can one country operate two diametrically opposed legal philosophies — one based on divine revelation, the other on human rights? This is not federalism; it is schizophrenia. The 1979 and 1999 Constitutions simply papered over contradictions that have now matured into existential threats.
To understand the North, one must recognise that Islam is not merely a religion there; it is a political identity and social structure. The emirate system intertwines faith with governance. Religious leaders wield enormous influence over politics, education, and justice. This fusion of faith and state power has produced both cohesion and crisis. It gave the North political unity that dominates federal elections, but it also stifled critical thought and economic modernisation.
Meanwhile, the South’s exposure to Western education produced a different worldview — secular, merit-driven, entrepreneurial. The South wants a nation governed by law and innovation; the North often wants a moral order governed by divine injunctions. These two visions are not easily reconcilable. And yet, both regions remain bound in a constitutional arrangement that forces cooperation without consensus.
The emergence of Boko Haram in 2009 was not an accident; it was a symptom of the North’s deeper malaise. The movement’s full name, Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awatiwal-Jihad, literally means “People Committed to the Propagation of the Prophet’s Teachings and Jihad.” Its founding doctrine rejected Western education (Boko Haram meaning “Western education is forbidden”) and sought to establish an Islamic state in Nigeria.
In essence, Boko Haram took the logic of Sharia to its conclusion — rejecting the secular Nigerian state entirely.
Rather than confronting the ideology head-on, many northern elites responded ambiguously — condemning the violence while subtly agreeing with the underlying grievances. This double-speak has cost Nigeria over 350,000 lives, displaced millions, and destroyed entire communities. Yet the North’s political machinery continues to demand control of the Federal Government and a disproportionate share of national revenue.
Perhaps the greatest irony is that while the North pushes its theocratic identity, it remains economically dependent on the South. Over 80 per cent of federal revenue comes from the oil and gas sector — located primarily in the Niger Delta and managed largely by southern professionals and entrepreneurs.
Still, through the mechanism of federal allocation, northern states receive the lion’s share of revenue, even though they contribute little to the national purse. Many northern elites have weaponised poverty — using religion to control an impoverished population that remains loyal despite decades of underdevelopment.
This economic imbalance is one of the central engines of Nigeria’s political paralysis. Those who contribute the least demand the most; those who innovate the most are constrained by a system designed to subsidise mediocrity in the name of unity.
Beyond economics lies a profound cultural divergence. The North sees communal identity as sacred — anchored in faith, clan, and emirate. The South celebrates individuality, modernity, and enterprise. While southern youths are building fintech startups and global brands, northern preachers are debating whether music and cinema are haram (forbidden). While southern parents push for global education, northern politicians are defending Almajiri culture as a religious duty.
The question, therefore, is not who is right or wrong. The real question is: Can two civilisations so far apart truly coexist under one constitution without constant friction?
The mantra of “One Nigeria” has become a political sedative — repeated by those who benefit from the illusion of unity but have no intention of reforming it. Real unity must rest on shared values, not geography. You cannot preach national cohesion while building religious walls. You cannot insist on a secular constitution while funding pilgrimages. You cannot demand equal citizenship while dividing citizens by faith.
Nigeria must choose either to become a true secular federation where religion is private or a confederation where regions govern themselves according to their values — without imposing on others. Anything in between is deception.
To forge a new federal compact, there is a need for constitutional clarity on secularism. The constitution must unambiguously enforce secular governance. States should not have power to adopt religious laws. Where Sharia exists, it must be confined to personal civil matters, not criminal jurisprudence.
There should be fiscal federalism and regional autonomy that allow regions to control their resources and contribute a fair quota to the centre. This will end the dependency culture and compel every region, including the North, to develop its economy.
Also, education should be seen as liberation. The North must embrace modern education. The Almajiri system must evolve into formal, state-regulated learning that integrates religious and scientific curricula. Ignorance cannot be the foundation of faith.
Moreover, the situation of the country calls for truth and reconciliation dialogue.
Read the remaining part of this article on www.guardian.ng
Dr Okoroafor, an entrepreneur and policy advocate, wrote from the UK.
Nigeria needs a sincere national dialogue — not another political jamboree — to address historical grievances, from the civil war to religious violence. Without truth, there can be no genuine unity.
Finally, civic identity should rise over ethno-religious identity. Citizenship must trump tribe and religion. Public policy should be based on merit, not on “federal character” or “religious balance.”
In conclusion, Nigeria’s tragedy is not that it is diverse, but that it is dishonest about its diversity. The North wants to preserve its Islamic heritage — fine. But it must not do so at the expense of a secular federation it refuses to fully accept. The South wants progress and freedom — fine. But it must stop subsidising a system that enslaves it politically and economically.
The courage we need today is not the courage to fight another war, but the courage to tell ourselves the truth. Either we build a genuine secular nation where faith is private, or we peacefully redesign our federation into autonomous regions that respect each other’s choices.
Unity is noble, but only when it is voluntary. A marriage without consent is not unity; it is captivity. If the North truly wants to live by Sharia and preserve its moral order, that is its right. But let that aspiration not imprison a nation that no longer shares the same dream. Perhaps, just perhaps, it is time for Nigeria to stop pretending and start being honest about what we really are, and what we truly wish to become.
By Emmanuel Okoroafor
