WHEN THE PULPIT BECOMES A PRISON: A GRAVE MISSTEP BY NIGER STATE GOVERNMENT

Anthony EKPO BASSEY

The recent policy by the Niger State Government requiring religious clerics to submit their sermons for pre-approval before delivery is not only an affront to decency but a brazen violation of the Nigerian Constitution. It is the kind of policy that creeps in under the cloak of order and security, yet it stinks of gagging, surveillance, and state overreach. It is, to put it plainly, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

When the pulpit becomes a prison, then the voice of morality is chained. If those who speak for God must first speak to government, then we are no longer a democracy, we are dancing dangerously close to despotism.

Ultimately, the Nigerian Constitution, the supreme law of the land speaks without stammering on this matter. Section 39(1) of the 1999 Constitution (as amended) declares: “Every person shall be entitled to freedom of expression, including the freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart ideas and information without interference.”

There is no footnote, no asterisk, and no exception that allows the government to act as a filter for religious teaching or moral instruction. The moment we allow the government to vet sermons, we have surrendered the soul of the nation to censorship. Again, to silence the voice of the clergy is to silence the conscience of the people. As the Yoruba say, "Ẹnu là ń wò, kì í ṣe ojú.” We judge the truth from the mouth, not from the face. What, then, becomes of truth when the mouth is tied?

Religious leaders are not pawns on the chessboard of political comfort. They are shepherds, prophets, and moral sentinels who often serve as the final voice of justice in communities where courts fail and governments falter. To demand that sermons be submitted for approval is akin to asking the watchman to sleep before the thief arrives.

Even more disturbing is the precedent this policy threatens to set. Today it is sermons. Tomorrow, it will be lectures, editorials, social media posts, and private conversations. When you give a mouse a cookie, it will soon ask for a glass of milk. The path to dictatorship is paved with small compromises and subtle silencing.

It is said, “He who trims himself to suit everyone will soon whittle himself away.” The government may be seeking to prevent hate speech or extremism, but censorship is a dull blade for such a delicate task. We cannot burn the forest to catch a rat. There are existing laws to prosecute incitement or violence. Laws that do not require prior restraint or mass suspicion of every imam or pastor who climbs a pulpit.

The right to speak freely, particularly from a moral or spiritual perspective, is not a privilege granted by the state, it is a right endowed by our very humanity and protected by the Constitution. Even during the darkest days of Nigeria’s military regimes, sermons were rarely subject to such scrutiny. What excuse, then, does a civilian government have?

In trying to prevent chaos, this policy is inviting rebellion. In seeking to stop division, it is sowing seeds of distrust. You cannot use your left hand to point the way to the right. A government that wishes to earn the respect of its citizens must not treat their voices as threats and their faith as a liability.

History is replete with examples of societies that lost their way the moment they muzzled their moral leaders. From colonial governments that feared the church’s opposition to oppression, to dictatorships that arrested imams for preaching the truth, no regime that fought free speech ever walked away clean.

Given this background, Niger State must retrace its steps. This policy must be rescinded, rejected, and buried in the graveyard of bad ideas. It serves no constructive purpose, undermines the Constitution, and makes a mockery of democratic values.

As expected and as it should be, let the government focus on securing lives, creating jobs, and fixing schools. Let clerics speak from their hearts, not from a government script. For when the drumbeat of truth is silenced, even the dance of progress becomes impossible. The pulpit must remain a place of prophecy, not puppetry.

To Niger State Government, a final word of caution: He who tries to silence the wind will only exhaust himself, for the wind will still blow, the fire will still burn, and the truth will still find its voice.