On the 14th of this month, the magnificent Our Lady of Assumption Cathedral in Nnewi was dedicated, a historic and joyful moment for the faithful. Yet, before many could fully savour the beauty of the Church and the solemnity of the ceremony, public attention shifted to a video by James Louis Okoye, which quickly became a distraction from the celebration.

In the video,Okoye expressed anger that the Bishop of Nnewi, Bishop Benson Okoye, did not give what he considered sufficient recognition to late Senator Ifeanyi Ubah, for his significant contributions to the cathedral’s construction. In protest, he declared that he was renouncing his Christian faith, akacham.

Interestingly, nearly two weeks after this outburst, there has been no public statement from either the immediate or extended family of late Senator Ubah endorsing Okoye’s public stunt. That silence is telling. It strongly suggests that his actions were undertaken without the authority, mandate, or consent of those most directly concerned and perhaps even to their embarrassment. In legal terminology, such conduct readily attracts the description of a meddlesome interloper.

“Meddlesome interloper” is a term I learnt early as a law student, and like many law students, I once enjoyed impressing (or intimidating) my non-law friends with it. But jokes aside, in real life, meddlesome interlopers are people who either lack locus standi or simply have a habit of “buying” trouble that does not concern them.

Over more than a decade in legal practice, I have developed a keen ability to recognise one when I see one. After reading and listening to the various sides of this matter, it was not difficult to conclude that James fits the textbook definition of meddlesome interloper.

For the records, a meddlesome interloper is not necessarily a bad person. Often, such a person may genuinely believe they are acting for a good cause. The issue, however, is not always intention it is standing. Without a clear personal stake or mandate from those directly affected, intervention can appear misplaced, unnecessary, or even disruptive.

No doubt, Okoye may have been a friend of Ifeanyi Ubah. But is he closer to the matter, or more affected by it, than Ifeanyi Ubah’s wife and children?

In Okoye’s case, however, one might even argue that the intervention goes beyond mere interference to malice.

Since his video went viral, he has been granted platforms to repeat and escalate his grievances.

In one video, he claimed that the spirit of Ifeanyi Ubah and himself would remove the Bishop from Nnewi. In another, he stated that he had wanted the late senator’s funeral Mass held in the then-uncompleted cathedral as a mark of appreciation, but that the Bishop refused. He even mentioned Ifeanyi Ubah bought cars for the Bishops.

These assertions are largely extraneous, which are merely for click bites and to justify relevance.

These statements suggest that his grievances long predated the dedication ceremony and merely found an outlet on that day, like a keg of gunpowder finally ignited.

Back to our video, for the sake of argument, let us even assume that the late Ifeanyi Ubah solely funded the cathedral and that Bishop Benson Okoye, out of personal dislike, deliberately failed, both in speech and in print, to acknowledge his contribution. Even then, would that alone justify outrage from someone who is neither a member of the family nor directly connected to the donation?

Underneath Okoye’s outburst and demands lies a troubling mix of entitlement mentality, materialism/vanity and a misunderstanding of what generosity means, particularly for Christians.

By this logic, because Ifeanyi contributed significantly to the cathedral, his praises should be sung publicly and repeatedly, as Osadebe and K1 de Ultimate do in their shows. For someone with such a mind-set, it might seem reasonable that a donor should have a special seat in church or be consulted on decisions about the cathedral.

This is the danger of entitlement mentality. It fails to grasp the nature of a gift: once given, the donor relinquishes rights and control over it. It even rubbishes the gift if you trumpet to the whole world, you gave the gift.

Ifeanyi Ubah, in making his donations, may well have acted with rectitude of intention, seeking only God’s glory. His friend, however, appears to view the act as an opportunity for public acclaim.

The Christian teaching on this matter is unambiguous. The bible cautions against performing righteous deeds for public applause, urging believers instead toward quiet charity known only to God. The spiritual value of a gift lies not in public acknowledgement, but in the sincerity of intention. In Matthew 6 (1-4) Jesus says “take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward.

But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right is doing, so that your almsgiving may be secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you”

Whether or not Bishop Okoye publicly acknowledged Ifeanyi Ubah is ultimately immaterial. The late senator is beyond earthly recognition, and the honour sought so loudly on his behalf cannot benefit him now, as no volume of public praise can reach him now. What matters is that God, who sees in secret, rewards every good done with sincere intention.

Unfortunately, this perspective is often lost on those focused on human applause. The desire for public glory can overshadow the spiritual value of quiet generosity.

This misunderstanding is not peculiar to James Okoye. Many people hesitate to give unless they are publicly acknowledged. We are unaccustomed to discreet generosity, hence the common sight of pews, hymn books, and church property boldly defaced with “Donated by…..”. As Scripture says, such donors “have received their reward.”

Years ago, I recall a woman who refused to make a church donation because her traditional title was omitted from the announcement. Even as a young boy, I felt something was off, that in Church, a person waited to be called Chief before she made her donation.

In our dealings with God, rectitude of intention is everything. Without it, even generous acts lose their spiritual value. The story of Ananias and Sapphira stands as a sobering reminder. Senator Ifeanyi Ubah, in making his donations, likely acted with pure intention, seeking only God’s glory. It’s unfortunate that his legacy is now entangled in controversy that obscures rather than honours his generosity.

Joshua Nwachukwu is a Lagos-based legal practitioner.