The death of Mr. Wigwe has brought to the fore one important aspect of religious worship in Nigeria: transactionalism. As I wrote a few weeks ago, transactionalism is the act of performing a service as a prerequisite to obtaining a favor. This service could be giving alms, fulfilling a covenant, etc. It is a give-and-take system that devalues many aspects of what we know about God, for example, loving God, justice, piety, etc.

Mr. Wigwe was a banker, a successful one at that. He was a member of the Redeemed Christian Church of God and was said to have contributed monetarily to the church in Lekki, Lagos. Following his death in a helicopter crash in the United States of America, many have lauded him for his contributions to the church at Lekki, his founding of a university, and more recently, his help in the church getting multimillion-naira loans from his bank while farmers were denied such opportunities.

Among affluent Africans, the art and science of giving to religious causes is common, and, as studies have shown, this is a multifaceted phenomenon that intertwines religious conviction, social prestige, economic strategy, philanthropic desire, psychological fulfillment, and cultural traditions. This complex behavior, while not unique to the African continent, is particularly noteworthy due to the significant role of religion in the societal fabric and daily lives of many African communities.

At the heart of this phenomenon lies a religious imperative. Many religions prevalent in Africa, including Christianity and Islam, extol charity and almsgiving as fundamental practices of faith. Wealthy adherents may view their contributions to religious causes as fulfilling these spiritual duties, seeking in return spiritual rewards, divine favor, or protection from misfortune (Ter Haar, 2011). Such acts of giving are deeply rooted in the religious beliefs and practices that shape the lives of individuals and communities across the continent.

It is for this reason that many were crossed by the death of Mr. Wigwe, asking why a man who was so generous to his church could die in such a manner. This is symptomatic of Nigerians’ belief in transactionalism.

Beyond religious motivations, the social dimension of donating to religious causes cannot be underestimated. For the affluent, such contributions often serve as a means of enhancing social prestige and status within their communities. The act of giving, especially when done publicly and on a large scale, is seen as a demonstration of success and piety, potentially earning the donor increased respect, influence, and even leadership positions within both religious and social networks (Comaroff & Comaroff, 1999).

A few years ago, the duo of Erastus Akingbola and Cecilia Ibru were notorious for donating huge sums of money to religious causes. Unsubstantiated claims were to the effect that they bought private jets for two General Overseers of two mega-churches in Nigeria. We have since learned that what was thought to be their money was indeed depositors’ money, and the banks they were overseeing have since collapsed.

Economically and politically, donations to religious organizations by wealthy Africans can also be strategic, serving as investments in social capital that may yield tangible returns. This includes gaining access to lucrative networks, enhancing business reputations, or even laundering money. In some cases, these contributions are a way to gain favor with religious leaders who possess significant political clout, thus blurring the lines between spiritual generosity and worldly gains (Olivier de Sardan, 2005).

Mr. Wigwe, like Erastus and Cecilia, was not a fool. Nigeria’s mega-churches are fat bank accounts, and if kowtowing to the Adeboyes, Oyedepos, Kumuyis, Bakares, Okoties, etc., is all that it takes to corner these accounts, it is all in a day’s job to do just that. So, it is not surprising that bankers are ready to give loans, as Mr. Wigwe was said to have done, to the church rather than to poor farmers. The drawback, however, is that had Wigwe given the money to the farmers, food insecurity would have been a thing of the past, and the mega-churches would have made more money than they are currently making.

Philanthropy plays a crucial role in this dynamic, with some donors motivated by a genuine desire to contribute to the welfare and development of their communities. Religious institutions often provide essential services such as education, healthcare, and social support, especially in regions where government services may be lacking. Thus, donations to religious causes can be seen as an extension of philanthropic efforts aimed at improving societal welfare (Bompani & Frahm-Arp, 2010).

The above has historical roots, especially with the Anglicans, Catholics, Baptists, etc. The Pentecostals are not given to anything that’s not generating money, and while the likes of Mr. Wigwe might give to philanthropy, the likes of the RCCG, Covenant, Babcock, etc., are for-profit organizations that leverage religious sentiments to make humongous amounts of money for their owners.

The psychological and spiritual satisfaction derived from donating to religious causes also plays a significant role. Individuals may find fulfillment in contributing to a cause they believe in, reinforcing their faith and personal identity as benefactors. This sense of satisfaction underscores the deeply personal aspect of religious giving, where spiritual and emotional rewards complement the social and economic benefits (James, 2011).

Lastly, the cultural context in many African societies, which emphasizes reciprocity and the redistribution of wealth, shapes the practice of donating to religious causes. In these cultural traditions, wealth is not merely for personal accumulation but is seen as something to be shared or redistributed within the community. Donations to religious organizations are thus part of broader cultural practices that prioritize generosity and communal welfare (Peel, 2003).

In conclusion, the phenomenon of wealthy Africans donating to religious causes is a complex interplay of religious, social, economic, psychological, and cultural factors. Each donor’s motivations can vary widely, influenced by their personal beliefs, the societal context, and the broader economic and political landscape. Understanding this phenomenon requires a holistic approach that considers the myriad influences and outcomes associated with religious giving in Africa.

Mr. Wigwe, to my mind, might have been driven by any or all of the aforementioned factors. However, the fact remains that his refusal to provide farmers with loans showed poor thinking and a parochial mentality.

May his soul rest in peace.

References

Bompani, B., & Frahm-Arp, M. (Eds.). (2010). Development and Politics from Below: Exploring Religious Spaces in the African State. Palgrave Macmillan.

Comaroff, J., & Comaroff, J. L. (1999). Civil Society and the Political Imagination in Africa: Critical Perspectives. University of Chicago Press.

James, R. (2011). Handle with Care: Engaging with Faith-based Organizations in Development. Development in Practice, 21(1), 109-117.

Olivier de Sardan, J.-P. (2005). Anthropology and Development: Understanding Contemporary Social Change. Zed Books.

Peel, J. D. Y. (2003). Religious Encounter and the Making of the Yoruba. Indiana University Press.

Ter Haar, G. (2011). Religion and Development: Ways of Transforming the World. Columbia University Press.

© Bukola Adeyemi Oyeniyi

February 26, 2024