Adaidaita Sahu: Open letter to my Christian brothers (II)

My dear Christian brothers, I write to you again with urgency wrapped in hope. The first letter was about acceptance; this one is about reality—the beautiful, unchangeable reality we must face together. Let me state a simple fact: there are about one hundred million Muslims in Nigeria. This is not a threat or defiance. It […]

Adaidaita Sahu: Open letter to my Christian brothers (II)

My dear Christian brothers, I write to you again with urgency wrapped in hope. The first letter was about acceptance; this one is about reality—the beautiful, unchangeable reality we must face together.

Let me state a simple fact: there are about one hundred million Muslims in Nigeria. This is not a threat or defiance. It is arithmetic. You cannot wish this away. Half the Yoruba are Muslims. Muslim Igbos exist too, quietly holding onto their faith in communities that often view them as outsiders. I have been to Anambra and was thoroughly impressed. I was there as a consultant for a World Bank education project. At the ministry, a lady humorously wondered why they sent a “Mallam”—a term sometimes used to diminish northerners—to assess education in Nigeria’s best-performing state. I smiled and moved on, holding no grudge. I know where those words come from. My own kins do the same to hers. Her words reminded me how deeply the “us versus them” narrative runs in our psyche.

I am shoving these numbers in your face not as a challenge, but as a call to arms—each other’s arms. I cannot change you. I cannot change reality. Roughly one hundred million Muslims and one hundred million Christians must share this space. We have two choices: live like friends, or live like enemies. Anyone with wisdom knows that living with friends is infinitely better. Even if we went our separate ways tomorrow, we cannot wish away each other’s presence in a globalised world. There are two billion Muslims and nearly three billion Christians on this planet. You cannot wish them away. But you can choose: friends or enemies. Why punish yourself like a Spartan when you can spoil yourself with friends?

I am involved in plans for a parley at year’s end, where difficult conversations about our nationhood will take place. If I live through the health challenges I am battling, I will be there. This gathering aims to enter a covenant of conscience—a first step toward healing the original sin of 1914, when Nigeria was amalgamated without our consent. I entertain no illusions that I, or my Muslim faith, has a monopoly on intellect or morality. That recognition is the foundation we must embrace. I am not the only one whose heart melts at kindness. I am not the only one whose culture celebrates ethical transcendence. Too many of us—Muslims and Christians alike—believe we alone possess truth and virtue.

More than a letter to my Christian brothers, this is a homily for my Muslim kinsmen. We have strayed from the straight path we pray for guidance upon seventeen times daily. The path of al-Fatihah is not one of hatred or suspicion.

I once read about a Japanese convert to Islam who travelled through the Muslim world, then toured Europe. He was nonplussed. He reportedly said he did not see Muslims in Europe but saw Islam there. He did not see it anywhere in the Muslim world. Somewhere in the Netherlands, an expensive bridge was built over a highway so animals could cross safely. In many Christian countries, you can be prosecuted for cruelty to an animal. Kindness is law. This is Islam! Not the nominal Islam we practice, but the real thing—the mercy the Prophet (SAW) was sent to embody. Allah describes Himself as “Rabb al-’Alamin,” Lord of all worlds. He describes His Prophet as “Rahmatan lil-’Alamin,” a mercy to all peoples. The Prophet said, “Allah will not be merciful to those who are not merciful to mankind.” Notice he said “mankind,” not “Muslims.”

My Muslim brothers, I entreat you, and myself, to the fear of Allah. You do not get a pass if you wrong a Christian because he is not Muslim. You will pay for it more dearly. The Prophet (SAW) said he would personally prosecute anyone who wrongs a member of the Ahl al-Kitab—the People of the Book. And if you are prosecuted by Muhammad SAW himself… your own don finish. The God I bow to is not only called Allah. His names include “al-Haq,” the Truth, and “al-Adl,” the Just.

I remember a childhood lore: never curse the devil, because he would go to al-Adl with a complaint. Al-Adl would say, “He has wronged you. I take responsibility. Curse me instead.” And that, for the devil, is worth more than the Iron Throne. Your chickens did not come home to roost; they went to your Master’s house. The name of your God has been defiled. By the devil himself. The moral is profound: everyone—including your bitterest enemy—has rights enforced by al-Adl. If your Master rules in favor of your enemy because you wronged him, He will always rule in favor of the truth, even if the complainant is Iblis.

My Muslim brothers, there is no time like today. We are, in many ways, the wretched of the earth. Fanon saw it and said it. It is because we have strayed. It is because we can be suspected of evil. This is the time to return to Allah’s path. On that path, there can be no hate. We have no reason to hate our brothers across the Niger. They did nothing wrong simply because they are not Muslims. Al-Haq knows why He made them Christians and us Muslims. He says: “O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another” (Qur’an 49:13). That is al-Haq telling us plainly to live as friends, not enemies. He further instructs: “Allah does not forbid you from those who do not fight you because of religion from being righteous toward them and acting justly. Indeed, Allah loves those who act justly” (Qur’an 60:8). This is divine command.

The Qur’an calls us to “cooperate in righteousness and piety, but not in sin and aggression” (Qur’an 5:2). Allah commands: “Remain steadfast for God’s sake, bearing witness impartially. Do not let hatred of others lead you away from justice. Be just—that is closer to awareness of God” (Qur’an 5:8).

My Christian brothers, your scripture speaks to this unity. In Ephesians, Christ “made both groups into one and broke down the barrier of the dividing wall, abolishing in His flesh the hostility… so that in Himself He might make the two into one new man, thus establishing peace” (Ephesians 2:14-15). If our faiths command peace and justice, what stops us?

My Muslim brothers, we have strayed. But it is Ramadan—the month of fasting, reflection, and mercy. Ramadan trains our souls to abstain from hatred, injustice, suspicion. It is the month the Qur’an was revealed—”a guidance for mankind” (Qur’an 2:185). Let’s leverage this Ramadan as a platform to return to the straight path. We must close ranks, fall into formation. We have a battle to win. But this battle is not against our Christian brothers. It is against ignorance, prejudice, the baggage that keeps us apart.

This is a call to my Muslim brothers: “Adaidaita Sahu”—fall in line, stand together in righteousness. Let us show Nigeria true Islam: the Islam of mercy, justice, kindness to all. Let us be so visibly good that no one can suspect us of evil, because that is clearly what we are suspected of. Let us be first to extend friendship, first to seek dialogue, first to forgive. And while on forgiveness, I must ask the people of Kano to forgive me. They know what I mean. Lol.

To my Christian brothers, I say again: I love you and wish you well forever. Let us walk this path together. You too can join us in this prayer, this battle. The alternative is too painful to contemplate.