For Nigerians in heaven

We are all going to die. Proof of this is the death, few weeks ago of Umaru Dikko, Shagari’s Transport minister. Yes, no matter how invincible Malam Umaru Dikko might have thought he were, when he said that Nigerians were not impoverished enough because they were not eating from the dustbins, he still succumbed, weeks […]

We are all going to die. Proof of this is the death, few weeks ago of Umaru Dikko, Shagari’s Transport minister. Yes, no matter how invincible Malam Umaru Dikko might have thought he were, when he said that Nigerians were not impoverished enough because they were not eating from the dustbins, he still succumbed, weeks back, to the unforgiving vagaries of death (Inna Lillahi wa Inna Illaihi Raji’un).
Is it ironical that Dikko died in the holy month of Ramadan? But this article is not about Umaru Dikko alone. It is about the Nigerians who will ultimately domicile in heaven, the list of which no one no matter how clairvoyant can determine. But we can, based on certain exclusive parameters, make a conjecture. When fasting began, everywhere you look, people seem to be subsumed in a religious frenzy. From the time the moon was sighted visible displays of piety become de rigueur, with the outward appearance of religious observance eclipsing actual acts of introspection or ethical self-re-evaluation.
Someone said Nigerians are religious but not Godly. Beneath all veneer of faith, Nigerians remain greedy, intolerant and narrow-minded. Religion brings the message of social equality and humility, but this is lost amidst vainglorious proclamations of individual piety, and the denunciation of all those who deviate from the religious script that has come to inform the public observance of this month. Is that what Ramadan prescribes?
The contradictions of Ramadan in Nigeria are perhaps best exemplified by our traders. And I am not exempting anyone. Before the moon had even been sighted, traders begin to identify with Islam and even Christian public office holders who hawk religion admonish Muslims to, in the spirit of Ramadan, exhibit good behaviour. But it is all lip service. Muslims mischievously send bulk text messages scaring people away from fruits, that they might have been poisoned to harm Muslim consumers, which is not only a lie but economic sabotage of the worst order. However, if what is being told is true does it mean that the decisive factor determining an individual’s salvation or damnation in Nigeria could be something as banal as their choice of juice?
My sermon is that the religious tropes among us must fear Allah. People lie, cheat, maim and kill even during Ramadan and the irony, of course, is that they care less about the spiritual nourishment of others. The only altar that they worship at is that of Mammon, and the only thoughts that trouble these titans of hatred are those related to profit. Towards that end, Islam and Ramadan offer themselves as convenient selling points, idioms that resonate with millions of potential consumers of fruits just waiting to be exploited.
Muslims should be compassionate, and not deceitful. Take banking as an example. An Islamic research institution, the Al Huda Centre of Islamic Banking and Economics claims that Islamic banking is essentially to serve the interests of a small but incredibly wealthy Muslims, and has done little to help the vast majority of Muslims worldwide who are poor. This should not come as a surprise to anyone; Al Huda insists that the entire raison d’être of Islamic banking is to provide the rich with ways to make more money. Platitudes about charity aside, religious individuals railing against the ‘moral’ decay of society say nothing when it comes to questions of inequality, poverty, and deprivation.
In a way, for the rich and poor alike, the fasting period is virtually not in any way different from any other month; the former use it to make more money while remaining immune from poverty, while the poor continue to starve, fasting all year through out of necessity rather than choice as they scrape pennies together for their next meal.
It should be self-evident that there is something wrong when excessive consumption and the accumulation of wealth by a small minority proceeds unchecked amidst widespread poverty and want. The contradiction should be even more apparent during fasting, a time when the experience of hardship is meant to inculcate a greater sense of empathy with the less fortunate in society. Instead, the opposite seems to be the case. Amidst all the fasting and praying, and all the television programs with hosts who suddenly seem to have found religion, little, if anything, is said about becoming a better, more ethical society by improving the lives of the most vulnerable and marginalized.
During fasting, an individual daring to consume food in public gets opprobrium, but no one is offended when people are begging for food on the streets. It is unacceptable for music to be played, but it is alright if Friday sermons are used to incite sectarian hatred. A woman dressed ‘inappropriately’ can become a source of tremendous consternation, but government officials stealing are fine.
More than anything else, we should save Ramadan in Nigeria from becoming an exercise in collective hypocrisy. I listened to tafsir at the Tipper Garage market in Gwarimpa and while the preacher seemed unknowledgeable about the rest of the world, his sermon was the most critical, few Nigerians will find their way to heaven if we continue the way we are. I got the message loud and clear and I hope you do too. Ramadan Kareem.