In Nigeria today, religion is a powerful force shaping how millions live, think, and even govern. Churches and mosques fill every street corner. Daily prayers, fasting, and sermons are woven tightly into the fabric of society. But beneath this deep devotion, one question nags at many minds: Are we truly just deeply religious, or are we a people responding to trauma through faith?
Religion, no doubt, brings comfort and hope. It offers meaning in times of hardship and a sense of community when life feels isolating. For many Nigerians, faith is a lifeline amid economic struggles, insecurity, and political instability. The truth is, our nation has endured plenty of pain — wars, corruption, kidnappings, and poverty. Such trauma leaves scars that run deep.
Could it be that our intense religiosity is partly a way of coping with these wounds? When hope is scarce, turning to God can feel like the only real option. Prayers for protection, healing, and justice fill the air because people are desperate for relief — not just spiritual but emotional and psychological too.
Some might say we are too religious, using faith as an escape from reality or even to manipulate others. Yet, dismissing this devotion risks ignoring the pain driving it. The church and mosque become more than places of worship; they are refuge centres, counselling hubs, and sometimes the only space where people feel heard and safe.
But here lies the challenge. When trauma fuels religion, it can sometimes breed fear, superstition, and division rather than healing and unity. Extreme beliefs may thrive in such an environment, leading to intolerance or even violence justified in the name of faith. We see it in rising religious clashes and political exploitation of religious sentiments.
What if instead of questioning the depth of our faith, we ask how we can address the root causes of trauma? How do we build a Nigeria where people do not have to seek constant refuge in religion because their lives are stable, secure, and hopeful?
Healing a nation goes beyond prayers. It demands justice, good governance, economic opportunity, and peace. Only then can religion reclaim its purest role – not as a reaction to pain, but as a source of genuine joy, wisdom, and community.
So, are we too religious or just traumatised? Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in between. Our faith is a reflection of our struggles and hopes. If we want a better future, it is time to heal both the spirit and the society.
