The Concourse
- By Soney Antai, serial awards-winning columnist
Yahaya Jingir, cohorts and the rest of us (2)
Before going into the core of what we promised to examine in this instalment, let us first summarise what Jingir said.
He called Christians “infidels”, insisted that the Tinubu/Shettima ticket was confirmation of the numerical dominance of Muslims over Christians, declared that Nigeria is an Islamic country, warned the “infidels” to know their limits, suggested that those uncomfortable with his rhetoric could leave Nigeria, and insisted that Muslims must be the only people to rule Nigeria.
Nothing warranted such an outburst. But we know that out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.
Expectedly, his remarks have dominated public discourse for days. While some — including Muslims — have denounced Jingir’s outburst as incendiary, divisive and disruptive, others, mostly those who share his ideological disposition, have backed his utterances. A “third force” has called for caution on the part of Jingir and his co-travellers, on the one hand, and Christians, on the other.
Then there is the fourth dimension: the deafening silence from Aso Rock, which some interpret as acquiescence in Jingir’s sabre-rattling.The man himself has doubled down, insisting that he stands by everything he said and that nobody can stop him from continuing to advocate his “Muslims-must-always-rule” position. He even claims that Muslims support his stance 100 per cent.
Howbeit, people like Jingir appear to believe that they are the dreadnoughts of Islam and therefore untouchable. They seem little concerned about whether their actions could inflame an already fragile country. His outburst should therefore be seen for what it is: incendiary religious-cum-political rhetoric rooted in a crude interpretation of Islamic domination, suppression and supremacism — an outlook whose intellectual provenance can be traced, in part, to certain historical interpretations of Islam dating back to the Arabian Peninsula of the seventh century.
Over time, however, some Muslim scholars have argued that some of the more violence-prone passages in the Quran and Hadith should be understood within their historical and cultural contexts rather than applied mechanically to modern society. Jingir appears to belong to the other school of thought, in which Islam is presented as the ideology to which humanity must ultimately submit. In Nigeria, versions of this ideology have found particularly strong expression in parts of the North. Its adherents draw inspiration from radical Islamist movements and interpretations of jihad that have, in some instances, justified violence against people who disagree with them — including Muslims who do not subscribe to the same interpretation of Islam.
This is why the thunderous silence from Aso Rock is troubling. It can have consequences far beyond Jingir himself.
Let us get one thing clear: Jingir has presented no credible evidence for his claim about the respective populations of Muslims and Christians in Nigeria. Neither can he credibly speak for all Muslims when he declares that they support his position 100 per cent. So, the old man, who at one point criticised Boko Haram, appears this time to have embarked on a factually deficient ego trip.
On the Muslim-Muslim ticket, he has every right to advocate its continuation. But those who disagree with him equally have the right to oppose it. That is the essence of democracy. On the performance scorecard, however, if what President Bola Tinubu and Vice President Kashim Shettima are delivering is the best specimen of what a same-faith government can offer, then Jingir and his cohorts should be asking themselves some difficult questions. And let me explain why. Nigeria’s current socioeconomic condition hardly provides a compelling case for the superiority of any religious configuration of government. Indeed, the country’s enormous economic difficulties, insecurity and widespread hardship have continued to weigh heavily on citizens. The situation is even more troubling in much of the North, where Jingir, who has been described by the group One Plateau One Voice as a settler in Jos, claims his roots.
According to the Global Data Lab’s Subnational Human Development Index (SHDI), the 12 northern states that operate Sharia-based criminal-law systems recorded relatively poor human-development outcomes in 2023 compared with many other Nigerian states. The index measures dimensions including education, standard of living and health. Their poor performance cannot, of course, be attributed simply to Sharia. That would be an unjustifiable leap from correlation to causation. But the figures point to an important lesson: religion, without creativity, competent governance, economic innovation and investment in human capital, cannot develop a people. Jingir cannot reasonably point to any concrete evidence that the Muslim-Muslim ticket has delivered the kind of transformation he appears to associate with religious homogeneity and suzerainty. Instead, Nigerians continue to contend with economic hardship and insecurity. And what is the point of having Muslims rule Nigeria repeatedly if the country continues to struggle with poverty, insecurity, unemployment and underdevelopment?
The issue here is that people like Jingir appear to be using religion to influence and control the minds of vulnerable and poorly educated populations in their region. Why does he not devote his energy to demanding an end to insecurity and mass poverty?
The most foreboding aspect of Jingir’s description of Christians as “infidels” is the philosophy underpinning such characterisation, particularly in view of the ideological position he has consistently articulated.
Calling fellow Nigerians “infidels” because of their faith is not a harmless theological exercise. In a society already burdened by religious violence, such language can reinforce the dangerous idea that Christians are lesser citizens or legitimate targets. That is why responsible leaders must take such rhetoric seriously.
Jingir’s anti-Christian posture appears to be as deep as his sense of entitlement is high. In February 2026, for example, he criticised the appointment of Professor Joash Ojo Amupitan as chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission, describing the appointment as a “risk of the highest order”. His objection was, among other things, that a Muslim should have been appointed.
In making that argument, he conveniently overlooked the fact that the two immediate predecessors in the office were Muslims — one of them appointed by a Christian president.
At a time when Nigeria is facing international scrutiny and accusations over the persecution and killing of Christians, it is curious that President Tinubu has not publicly called Jingir and others making such inflammatory statements to order. His media minders, who only days before Jingir’s outburst were attacking Catholic bishops for speaking out on matters concerning the welfare of Nigerians, have also maintained a thunderous silence.
That silence is not golden; it is troubling; it is politically shortsighted. And, in the circumstances, potentially dangerous. Bayo Onanuga, who repeatedly accused Peter Obi of introducing religious rhetoric into the 2023 general election campaign, has suddenly gone deaf and dumb. If such despicable and divisive rhetoric had come from a Christian cleric, would the government have maintained the same silence?
Or is it possible that Jingir’s intervention is serving, deliberately or otherwise, as a convenient distraction from the poor performance of the government?
Under this administration, a Muslim preacher reportedly called for the killing of the nation’s First Lady. He is still walking free. Under this administration, another Muslim preacher reportedly called for the beheading of a pastor and placed a ₦2 million bounty on his head. He too is reportedly walking free. Under this administration, Islamist militants have continued to demonstrate frightening audacity, attacking security personnel and, in some cases, killing senior military officers. Now Jingir is stoking religious tension, yet the government has not, at least publicly, demonstrated any urgency in confronting the rhetoric. What this risks doing is emboldening religious extremists while leaving other Nigerians vulnerable to intimidation, assault and violence simply because they do not subscribe to the same ideology. How long this will last is anyone’s guess.
One can only hope and pray that the increasingly inflammatory rhetoric coming from Nigeria’s religious podiums is not a prelude to something far worse — a descent into the kind of sectarian chaos that has devastated countries such as Somalia. Nigeria has travelled this road before. We know where incendiary words can lead when political leaders choose silence, religious leaders choose provocation and citizens choose to look the other way. That is why this is not merely about Yahaya Jingir. It is about the kind of country the rest of us want to live in. A stitch in time, it is said, saves nine.
(Concluded)