Nigeria’s relationship with religion is complicated enough without introducing billions of naira in public money. Yet an examination of detailed projects in the 2023 and 2024 federal appropriation schedules raises precisely that question.
Our review identified approximately ₦54.10 billion in provisions connected directly or indirectly with religious institutions, religious education, pilgrimage and religion-linked infrastructure.
Approximately ₦34.93 billion was classified as Islam-related, while ₦12.76 billion was Christianity-related. About ₦915.7 million was interfaith and another ₦5.50 billion could not confidently be classified.
In percentage terms, approximately 64.6 per cent of the quantified total was Islam-related compared with 23.6 per cent Christianity-related.
These numbers will inevitably attract political interpretations. They must therefore be handled carefully.
They do not establish that ₦54.1 billion was actually spent. An appropriation authorises expenditure; it does not prove release, procurement, execution or completion.
Nor does the imbalance automatically prove that the Nigerian government deliberately favours Muslims.
It does, however, create a legitimate transparency problem.
The largest concentration of Islam-related provisions involves Islamic, Arabic and Qur’anic education. This distinction matters because not every religiously affiliated school exists solely to teach religion. Many provide conventional education alongside religious instruction. The same applies to numerous Christian mission schools.
Public financing of a classroom serving children from different backgrounds is therefore not necessarily equivalent to using public funds to construct a sanctuary or mosque.
Nigeria needs a policy capable of distinguishing the two.
A second issue concerns the National Assembly.
Many projects in the appropriation schedules bear the unmistakable characteristics of constituency intervention: senatorial districts, federal constituencies, particular communities and named institutions.
But the final appropriation document frequently does not identify the legislator responsible for proposing the project.
That is no longer good enough.
Every legislative insertion should carry the name of its sponsor, the beneficiary, location and justification. Religious projects should additionally be subjected to a public-purpose test.
Who owns the completed facility? Can citizens of different faiths use it? Is it essentially educational, medical or infrastructural, or is its principal purpose devotional?
A third problem is the implementing agency.
Our review found religion-connected projects assigned to agencies whose apparent statutory functions are far removed from the project. One Methodist school-related project, for example, appeared under the Industrial Arbitration Panel, while materials for a Christian school appeared under an institution principally associated with mining and geosciences.
There may be administrative explanations, but such mismatches demand scrutiny.
An agency should not become merely an accounting vehicle through which a constituency project enters the federal procurement system. It must have both the legal mandate and technical ability to deliver the project.
There is also the unavoidable question of opportunity cost.
Nigeria faces huge deficits in basic education, primary healthcare, water, security and infrastructure. Every billion naira has alternatives.
The argument is not that every religion-related allocation should automatically be redirected elsewhere. But taxpayers are entitled to know why a project serving a particular religious institution has taken precedence over competing public needs.
Nigeria’s Constitution provides an important starting point. Section 10 states that neither the Federal Government nor a state shall adopt any religion as a state religion.
That does not mean government can never interact with religious bodies. Religious organisations operate schools, hospitals and humanitarian services that can serve a broad public interest.
The real challenge is establishing the dividing line between supporting a public service delivered through a religious institution and using taxpayers’ money to subsidise religious practice itself.
Nigeria therefore needs a religion-neutral framework for federal appropriations.
Every insertion should disclose its sponsor. The beneficiary should be publicly identified. The implementing MDA should demonstrate jurisdiction and technical competence. Projects that primarily benefit religious organisations should satisfy a documented public-interest test. Releases and implementation should be published.
And where financing is explicitly devotional, government should have to explain why taxpayers rather than congregations are bearing the cost.
The ₦34.93 billion versus ₦12.76 billion disparity deserves examination. But the ultimate question should not be whether Christians can secure as many budget projects as Muslims.
That could simply turn public finance into a religious arms race.
The more important question is whether a constitutionally plural state should be financing explicitly religious activities at all — and, where public funding is legitimate, what transparent rules guarantee fairness, accountability and value for money.
When religion enters the budget without clear rules, the argument stops being merely about faith.
It becomes a question of power, public money and equal citizenship.
