Opinion: I Had A Dream: The Islamic Republic of Nigeria

With all protocols observed, Nigerian style, permit me to start this very serious discourse by playing a silly little religious game. Please shut your eyes and ty to imagine a nice Arabic name that would fit your most highly respected church leaders in Nigeria.

What would you say about Chris Abdulhamid Oyakhilome? Or Tony Mohammed Rapu? Bishop Mike Hasan Okwonkwo has a certain ring to it, and Apostle Ayo Hamza Oritsejafor sounds positively distinguished.

Stretch your imagination further and see Pastor Enoch Zaki Adeboye seated beside Bishop David Ibrahim Oyedepo, while Pastor Wale Othman Oke announces a call to order and Pastor Paul Umar Adefarasin delivers the opening address. More than a few Nigerian Christians would shout, God forbid! But before you condemn this thought projection, you must first confront history. The very cities where Paul planted the churches of Ephesians and Corinthians are today Islamic Turkish municipalities and Greek ruins. The Temple Mount where Jesus preached now cradles the Dome of the Rock and Al-Aqsa Mosque.

Beyond these, the ancient African centres of Christianity and North African schools of Christian theology that produced towering intellects like Origen and Tertullian are today Islamic strongholds where any public Christian preaching can attract a swift and violent reprisal.

This is not conspiracy theory but a documented reality: the systematic erosion of religious liberty, democratic governance, and the rights of women in nations that fail to read the signs of the times, is no longer news.

Nigeria was well on its way down that same road, until God, in His sovereign and unquestionable wisdom, raised Donald Trump. Two tweets and that is all it took to shatter the enchantment that had settled over our nation like a fog.

Two tweets that reverberated from Washington to Abuja and forced an international reckoning with the persecution of Nigerian Christians and an ongoing genocide. Wisdom should tell us that this window of divine intervention will not remain open indefinitely if we do not rise to the occasion.

And this brings me to a dream I had a few nights ago, I found myself seated at a large table in Washington, D.C., in the company of noble men who have spent decades holding the line for the Nigerian Church: Frank Wolf, Chris Smith, Steve Enada, Riley Moore, Tony Perkins, and others of similar conviction and courage were all seated.

Together, we were watching a football match, not American football, but a Premier League-style soccer derby with high stakes. The contest was strikingly peculiar. One side was not the most technically gifted, but they were superbly organised. Every player knew their role.

They moved as a single organism, disciplined, coordinated, laser-focused on one objective: scoring goals. The other side? Each man was a star. Brilliantly skilled and individually breathtaking.

But utterly useless as a team. Every player held the ball too long, auditioning for the crowd rather than advancing the cause. Even the goalkeeper abandoned his post to attempt a solo dribble toward glory.

The Christian All-Stars were performing while their opponents were winning and yet, to my bewilderment, the Americans at the table kept cheering for us until the end of the game. What troubled me most was that I recognised some of the All-Stars as good men who kept confessing that “God will still do what He wants to do!”

I woke from that dream unsettled, carrying a question I am almost ashamed to voice: Could an Islamic Republic of Nigeria be better governed than the corrupt and shambolic democratic enterprise we are presently enduring?

I do not ask this as an advocate because I cherish religious liberty with every fibre of my being. Yet, I look at Dubai and Abu Dhabi, as cities with zero tolerance for corruption that pursue excellence in comparison to our annual prophetic proclamations, and I can understand why the righteous God would permit some ancient Bible lands to go under the sword of Islam instead of enduring deviant religious displays of wayward generations.

I know the heavens will not fall should I have to effect a change of name; Danladi Peter Thompson does not sound so terrible. My only grief would be that my great-grandchildren may never possess the freedom of religious liberty that Ladi Peter Thompson had when he freely and joyfully chose to serve Christ as His Lord and Saviour.

The clock of destiny is ticking and a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Who will remind the Nigerian church that a special Independence Bible was launched on October 1, 1960 to serve as an Ebenezer, a reminder to the future that we paid a hefty price to beat the corruption of human slave trade and colonial bondage for Nigeria to become a reality.

Ladi Peter Thompson (Reverend), is of Macedonian Initiative USA