The Sacred Paradox
In the heart of Ugep, Cross River State, a rumbling discourse echoes from the hallowed chambers of tradition. A Christian pastor, ordained under the banner of the cross, ascends the ancient stool of Okpebiri, a sacred office of the Obol monarchy. Pastor Yibala of Lekpankon, Ijiman, now occupies this exalted position, yet the murmurings of discontent ripple through the air, questioning the audacity of such a union.
Has not the West, the very heartland of Christendom, demonstrated time and again that religious piety and traditional roles can coexist harmoniously? Must African tradition forever be considered a relic inferior to its imported counterparts? I say, nay!
To critique African traditional religion from the viewpoint of inferiority is to misunderstand the very essence of spirituality itself. Christianity and Islam, birthed from the deserts of the Near East, have no monopoly on divine communion. The Igbo, Yoruba, and Ugep peoples—yes, our ancestors—have communed with the divine long before Europe’s missionaries laid their claims upon African soil. This communion is no less significant, no less hallowed than that found in cathedrals or mosques. Who are we to deem one sacred ritual worthy and another mere superstition?
The West: Where Tradition and Clergy Coalesce:
In the vaunted West, that citadel of enlightenment and civilization, the clergy themselves have long held traditional offices. In Britain, the Archbishop of Canterbury, a towering figure in global Christendom, holds sway not only as a spiritual guide but also as a traditional statesman, advising monarchs and participating in national ceremonies that date back millennia. When Prince Charles was crowned King Charles III, bishops—ordained by the same Christian tenets—led the coronation, an unmistakable marriage of tradition and religion. And yet, is the Archbishop’s sacred duty to God any less potent because he wears both cassock and coronet?
Across Europe, clergy serve not only their congregations but their traditional monarchies with solemnity and pride. The duality of their roles is not seen as a conflict but as an honour, a reflection of the sacred duty they owe to their people. Why then, should Pastor Yibala be subjected to the poison of those who would decry his elevation to Okpebiri?
The office of Okpebiri is no less sanctified than a bishop’s mitre, for it carries with it the weight of ancestral wisdom, communal unity, and spiritual guardianship.
African Traditional Religion: No Lesser Faith
The idea that African traditional religion is inferior to Christianity is an absurdity, a product of colonial miseducation. African spirituality is rooted in a deeper understanding of nature, community, and the universe. Its deities, far from being mere idols, are manifestations of life’s forces: the earth, the sky, the river, the wind. Can anyone, in good conscience, claim that these forces are lesser than the singular God of monotheism, when they form the very fabric of life itself?
The misconception that African spirituality is primitive stems from a failure to recognize its profound theological complexity. Much like Christianity, African traditional religion has its own canon of laws, its moral framework, and its intricate understanding of the cosmos. The priest of a shrine serves as a mediator, not unlike the priest of a church. His role is not to oppose the God of Abraham but to protect the spiritual wellbeing of his people through ancestral wisdom and divine guidance.
Pastor Yibala: The Dual Mantle of Faith and Tradition:
Pastor Yibala, now installed as Okpebiri, stands as a paragon of this duality. His acceptance of the traditional stool is not a repudiation of his Christian faith but an affirmation of the interconnectedness of African spirituality and Christianity. Indeed, who better to occupy the role of Okpebiri than a man of God, trained in the disciplines of morality, justice, and spiritual leadership? The pastor’s role as Okpebiri can only elevate the stool, for his Christian convictions will bring a fresh lens to the time-honored traditions of his people.
Being a pastor imbues Pastor Yibala with an even greater ability to serve as Okpebiri. His spiritual grounding in the teachings of Christ will enhance his ability to mediate, lead, and unite. The teachings of Christ, after all, are rooted in love, justice, and service to humanity—principles that are no strangers to the traditional office he now occupies. His dual role allows him to bridge the perceived gap between African traditional religion and Christianity, showing that both paths can lead to the same truth: the wellbeing and prosperity of the people.
Those who cry foul at this union are but the echoes of a colonial past, still shackled to the notion that African spirituality is somehow beneath imported religions. They fail to see that Pastor Yibala’s ascension as Okpebiri is a powerful symbol of unity, not discord. It represents the seamless blending of two spiritual worlds for the good of the people.
In conclusion, Pastor Yibala’s installation as Okpebiri must not be seen as a desecration but as a consecration—a consecration of both Christian and traditional values into a singular purpose. He has not betrayed his flock nor the ancestors; he has honored them. Let the critics take heed: African traditional religion is no less divine, no less profound, than the religions that colonizers forced upon us. Let this sacred marriage of faith and tradition serve as a beacon for future generations. African spirituality will never bow to the shadow of inferiority again.
Sam Eno, PhD, wrote in from Abuja, Nigeria.
