On a recent morning, I set out for my usual 45-minute walk within my estate. However, I felt compelled to extend the walk beyond the estate, covering a distance of about two to three kilometers. Barely 15 minutes to 6 a.m., I encountered a familiar and disturbing scene: a woman with a mobile loudspeaker preaching within the estate. Her amplified voice pierced the quiet morning, disregarding the peace and beliefs of others.
I approached her and requested that she stop, urging her to respect the right of residents to tranquility. To her credit, she obliged and left, though not without stern instructions from the estate’s security guards never to allow such intrusions again.
But what unfolded outside the estate was even more startling. Within just 500 meters on the main road, I encountered more than six freelance preachers, some standing at spots, others moving along the road, each proclaiming their messages loudly to almost empty spaces. Aside from a handful of passersby, many heading to work or exercising, these individuals seemed to be speaking more to themselves than to any audience.
At the main bus stop, the situation escalated: three preachers occupied different corners, each with large loudspeakers that competed not only with one another but also with the shouts of bus conductors calling passengers to destinations like Obalende and CMS. The cacophony was unbearable.
The irony is glaring. If the same passion, energy, and commitment invested in unregulated street preaching were channeled into business ventures, education, or community development, Nigeria would undoubtedly be better for it. Instead, this practice has become a source of harassment and noise pollution, infringing on the rights of others to peace, order, and sanity.
It raises troubling questions about the essence of faith in our society. Many of these so-called men and women of God seldom demonstrate genuine compassion, discipline, or integrity in their daily lives. Their conduct often falls short of the values they so fervently preach. This disconnect reflects a larger societal problem: despite our renowned religiosity, Nigeria continues to grapple with alarming levels of dishonesty, corruption, and crime.
If religion has not translated into social order, honesty, or accountability, then what purpose does it serve when practiced in such intrusive and lawless forms? Worse still, the lack of regulation allows individuals to take liberties in the name of faith, often trampling upon the rights of others.
It is time for decisive action. The government, through relevant agencies such as the National Orientation Agency, must institute clear policies to regulate religious activities in public spaces. Noise pollution, masquerading as religious expression, should not be allowed to disrupt communities and harass citizens. Laws must be enacted and enforced to protect the collective right to peace and quiet, while still upholding freedom of worship, privately and respectfully.
Faith, after all, is a deeply personal matter. It resides within us and does not require loudspeakers to prove its authenticity. True religion should be evident not in noise, but in compassion, integrity, and actions that uplift society. Until we confront this menace, Nigeria’s public spaces will remain hostage to unregulated fanaticism disguised as spirituality, with all the negative consequences for social order and national development.
By Bola Babarinde
