● ‘Religion is the opium of the people’ — and the business of hope in Nigeria
By Austin Chukwudi
At the early hours of a Wednesday, a religious worship centre was already filling up. Not for a service, but for a seminar. The banner read: “Financial Freedom Guaranteed.” Beside it, another banner from a church two streets away promised “A 100-Fold Return on Your Seed This Month.”
Between both banners, buses dropped off traders, civil servants, students and pensioners — all with the same expectation: hope in an envelope.
That is Nigeria in 2026. A country where faith, critics argue, is oxygen — and the same faith is also being bottled and sold.
Karl Marx called religion “the opium of the people” nearly 200 years ago. He did not mean that people are foolish. He meant that religion dulls pain. In a country where petrol is ₦1,300 per litre, where unemployment is the norm, where hunger reigns and insecurity is a daily reality, places of worship are often the first port of call.
A pastor in Warri put it plainly: “People are not coming here because they are rich. They are coming because they are tired of unfulfilled promises.”
But tired people are also vulnerable people. And across Nigeria, some religious leaders have built empires on that vulnerability.
The script is familiar, and it cuts across denominations.
First, identify the pain point: no job, no visa, no child, no promotion, “spiritual attack.”
Second, prescribe the solution: a seed, an offering, a night vigil, a special anointing oil, a deliverance fee.
Third, show proof: testimonies on stage, on television, on TikTok.
One believer said she had paid for “prophetic direction,” “marriage prayers” and “business breakthrough seeds” in the last 18 months. “Each time they say, ‘This is your last sacrifice.’ But there is always another one next month.”
Financial transparency is rare. Few churches publish audited accounts. Yet convoys of luxury SUVs, private jets and universities named after founders regularly make the headlines. When questioned, the usual defence is: “Touch not my anointed.”
In Nigeria, politics and the pulpit are cousins. During elections, pulpits become campaign grounds. Men and women of God endorse candidates. In return, some receive government appointments, land allocations, or security votes for their projects.
The result: religious leaders become stakeholders in the very system that is failing the people. And instead of holding power to account, some choose to manage the fallout with prayer points.
A sociologist noted: “When the state fails to provide jobs or healthcare, the pastor becomes HR and the doctor. That gives him enormous power. Power without accountability is where exploitation begins.”
To be clear: not all religious leaders are exploiting people.
For many Nigerians, faith is not opium. It is community. It is therapy. It is identity.
A market trader in a major city said: “The government did not pay my daughter’s WAEC fees. The church did. So who is my opium?”
What is changing in 2026 is the conversation. Social media has pulled back the curtain. Young Nigerians are asking questions out loud: Why is the offering compulsory? Why is the prophet wealthier than the congregation? Why are we praying for three hours for electricity instead of demanding it?
The critique is no longer coming only from atheists or Marxists. It is coming from inside the pews.
Is this faith or pharmakon? The Greek word pharmakon means both medicine and poison. That may be the best way to describe religion in Nigeria right now.
For millions, it is medicine. It heals, it holds, it gives meaning.
For others, it has become poison — a tool to extract money, loyalty and silence from people who have very little left to give.
The question Nigeria is wrestling with is not whether people should believe. It is: who gets to profit from that belief, and at what cost?
As one youth pastor said after service: “If we do not reform ourselves, the state will reform us. Or the people will simply walk away.”
Outside, the rain was starting. Ushers were passing the offering baskets again. And the service continued.
Is Karl Marx right that ‘religion is the opium of the people’?