By Kolawole Ogunbiyi
In many societies around the world, particularly in Africa, religion is deeply woven into the social and cultural fabric. Mosques and churches are filled with devout worshippers, and public discourse is frequently infused with appeals to moral values derived from religious teachings. Yet, paradoxically, these same societies are often plagued by high levels of corruption. This contradiction between religiosity and corruption invites serious reflection and urgent action.
Nigeria is considered one of the most religious countries in the world to the extent that prayers are offered at the beginning and the close of almost every event organised by government institutions. A 2019 Pew Research study showed that over 95% of Nigerians consider religion very important to their lives. Yet, Nigeria continues to rank among the countries most affected by corruption, according to Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index.
The paradox is not confined to Nigeria alone; across many parts of the world, societies that are outwardly religious often suffer from institutional decay, looting of public funds, abuse of power, and erosion of public trust. This raises a disturbing question: How can deeply religious communities tolerate and even perpetuate such systemic wrongdoing?
Religious institutions are meant to serve as moral beacons—spaces where integrity, humility, and justice are upheld above wealth or power. Many people practice religion as a ritual or identity marker rather than as a moral compass. Public displays of faith—prayers, fasting, donations are sometimes treated as substitutes for ethical living. In such cases, religion becomes a performance, rather than a force for integrity and justice.
Some religious adherents separate private morality from public ethics. A person may be generous in his/her personal life but still engage in fraud at work, rationalising it as a necessary evil or blaming the system. This compartmentalisation dilutes the holistic message of most religions, which call for consistency between belief and conduct.
Some religious leaders, either out of fear or complicity, avoid speaking against corruption or even benefit from it through gifts, tithes, fat offerings, support, zadakat and patronage from corrupt individuals. When religious institutions fail to hold their followers accountable, they inadvertently legitimise unethical behaviour. One of the most damaging of these practices is the public honouring of corrupt politicians and wealthy individuals through reserved front-row seating, prestigious religious titles, and exaggerated recognition during worship services.
In many churches and mosques, front-row seats are informally reserved for politicians, wealthy donors, and influential individuals, regardless of the source of their wealth. These seats are not merely about visibility; they communicate moral endorsement. When a person widely associated with corruption is ushered into a place of honour during a sacred gathering, the message to the congregation is clear: wealth and influence matter more than integrity. Such practices blur the line between spiritual leadership and social patronage. They transform places of worship into arenas of status display, where honour is earned not through ethical conduct but through financial capacity and political connections.
Beyond seating arrangements, religious titles have become tools for reputation laundering. Titles such as “Church Patron,” “Grand Donor,” “Pillar of Faith,” or similar honorary designations are often bestowed on individuals whose public records raise serious ethical concerns. Once such titles are conferred, they are used to shield individuals from criticism and elevate them as moral exemplars, despite credible allegations or evidence of corruption.
For corrupt politicians and business figures, these honours provide social legitimacy. They signal acceptance, silence dissent, and discourage accountability. The religious institution, knowingly or unknowingly, becomes a platform for moral cleansing rather than moral correction. When religious leaders accept questionable donations without scrutiny, they compromise their moral authority. The institution shifts from being a conscience of society to an accessory to injustice. The consequences of these practices are profound. Young people, observing the celebration of corrupt individuals in sacred spaces, internalise a dangerous lesson: corruption pays, and religion can be used to sanitise wrongdoing. This erodes moral values, weakens social trust, and undermines efforts to build a culture of accountability.
Faith loses its transformative power when it rewards unethical behaviour. Instead of inspiring integrity, it reinforces cynicism and normalises corruption. In many contexts, religion coexists with strong traditional systems that emphasise loyalty to kin, tribe, or class over accountability. This communal structure can discourage whistleblowing and reinforce corrupt practices, especially when perpetrators are seen as benefactors to their communities.
For religion to play a constructive role in curbing corruption, the religious leaders and scholars must emphasise the ethical foundations of faith. Preaching should focus not just on personal piety but on public responsibility. The story of Prophet Muhammad’s honesty in trade, or Jesus overturning the tables of corrupt money-changers in the temple, are powerful examples of faith challenging injustice. Religious institutions should adopt internal transparency mechanisms and avoid complicity with corrupt political and business elites. Faith-based organisations can lead by example in promoting integrity. Congregations can become spaces for civic education, anti-corruption campaigns, and grassroots mobilisation. Sermons, study groups, and interfaith forums can integrate messages about civic duty, good governance, and ethical leadership. Faith communities should support individuals who speak out against corruption, offering them protection, encouragement, and a moral safety net.
It is time to reconcile religiosity with integrity. Religious devotion must not be measured only by external expressions of faith, but by internal conviction and ethical living. A society that kneels to pray but turns a blind eye to theft, nepotism, and injustice cannot claim to be truly godly. Corruption thrives in silence, but so does hope when ordinary people, guided by their conscience and faith, choose to act with courage and conviction.
When religious institutions trade moral authority for financial comfort or political favour, they do more than encourage corruption—they legitimise it. Ending corruption in society requires not only strong government institutions but also courageous religious leadership willing to uphold integrity over influence. Faith must once again become a force that confronts corruption, not a sanctuary that conceals it.
Kolawole Ogunbiyi, Esq., sent in this piece via ogunbiyikolawole@gmail.com
