Sarcastic Sunday: How Religion Must Matter — Except When It Should Not

15 February, 2026

Mohammed Bello Doka

Welcome to this week’s edition of Sarcastic Sunday, the only safe national space where we study Nigeria’s political gymnastics with the appropriate scientific tool: sarcasm. Because if we attempted to examine these contortions sincerely, the resulting cognitive dissonance would choke us to death before paragraph three.

So we choose laughter.

Not because it is funny.

But because oxygen is essential.

Today’s episode: How Religion Must Matter — Except When It Should Not.

Let us begin with a simple historical documentary, recently rediscovered in the archaeological ruins of 2003 Nigeria.

In that ancient civilization, elections were scheduled during Easter. Christians protested that Holy Week obligations could hinder participation. And then something extraordinary happened: the nation did not accuse them of exaggeration, hysteria, polarization, or theological overreach. No one shouted, “Religion should not matter!” No one wrote essays explaining that fasting or worship should be postponed for democracy. No one lectured bishops on civic duty.

Instead, the Independent National Electoral Commission consulted.

It listened.

It adjusted part of the timetable.

Because — and this is crucial — religion mattered.

Now fast-forward through two decades of democratic enlightenment to 2027, where the same republic has matured sufficiently to discover that religion does not matter at all.

Progress.

Elections fall inside Ramadan. Muslims note that fasting from dawn to sunset while queuing in heat may affect participation. And the national response arrives instantly, like a pre-programmed ringtone:

“You are exaggerating.”

“You are polarising religion.”

“Religion should not matter.”

“Stop sectarianising administration.”

Ah yes. The famous Nigerian principle of retroactive secularism: religion mattered deeply in 2003, but has since evolved into irrelevance by 2027 — coincidentally when the affected faith changed.

We must admire this theological innovation. Few nations can upgrade metaphysics so efficiently.

Now, a brief clarification for readers who believe religion should never influence public life: I am not addressing you. Please relax. Continue your admirable secular pilgrimage through WhatsApp debates. This column is directed at serious Muslims — the endangered species who still think fasting is not a recreational hobby and that Ramadan is not merely a decorative calendar event.

You, dear reader, are safe from this conversation. It is not about you. It is about those who still believe faith obligations occasionally intersect with physical reality.

Which brings us to today’s investigative segment: Cunkish Questions Nigeria Cannot Answer Without Sweating.

If religion should not matter in elections, why did it matter enough in 2003 to adjust them?

Was Easter in 2003 a constitutional emergency, but Ramadan in 2027 a minor scheduling inconvenience?

Did Nigerian voters in 2003 possess fragile devotional lungs requiring protection, while voters in 2027 have developed advanced respiratory systems capable of fasting in polling queues without hydration?

Is the Holy Week participation burden scientifically heavier than the Ramadan participation burden, or do we now weigh sacred time by denominational density?

When exactly did fasting become physically irrelevant to civic endurance? Was there a federal gazette? Did metabolism vote on it?

If accommodation in 2003 was sensitivity, why is identical reasoning in 2027 exaggeration? Did the dictionary resign?

Perhaps the answer lies in Nigeria’s newest doctrine: Selective Religious Gravity. Some sacred periods exert measurable democratic force; others float harmlessly above electoral logistics.

We must respect the science.

Consider the official argument now offered with impressive confidence: religion should not affect elections. A noble principle — tragically born in 2026 and therefore unavailable to Nigerians in 2003, who unfortunately lived before this enlightenment and had to endure accommodation instead.

History can be so embarrassing when it refuses to stay buried.

Let us examine neutrality, that beloved national word. In 2003, neutrality meant acknowledging that Holy Week might affect Christian participation. In 2027, neutrality means insisting Ramadan cannot affect Muslim participation. Observe the elegance: neutrality is identical to accommodation when applied to one faith, and identical to dismissal when applied to another. A symmetry so perfect it could only be designed.

And we are told the two situations are different. Of course they are. One involved Easter. The other involves Ramadan. Completely unrelated phenomena. Apples and oranges. Bread and water. Feast and fast. Accommodation and irrelevance.

To compare them would be — what is the phrase? — exaggeration.

We must also admire the sudden durability of the Muslim voter. In 2003, Nigerian democracy feared Christian devotion might reduce turnout. In 2027, democracy has discovered Muslim physiology is resistant to dehydration, heat, fatigue, and extended queuing while fasting. Science marches on.

But let us return to the accusation that began this circus: raising Ramadan scheduling concerns is polarising religion. Fascinating. In 2003, raising Easter concerns unified democracy. In 2027, raising Ramadan concerns fractures it. Apparently, the same argument changes moral polarity depending on who speaks it.

Physics again.

And so we arrive at the central Nigerian miracle: the identical principle can be sensitivity, neutrality, exaggeration, or bias — depending solely on the religious calendar involved. A moral prism of extraordinary flexibility. UNESCO should protect it.

Yet beneath the sarcasm lies a stubborn fact Nigeria cannot evaporate: the country has already accepted that major religious observance can justify electoral accommodation. That acceptance is documented not in opinion columns but in electoral history. The precedent exists. The principle exists. The only variable is application.

Which brings us, inevitably, to hypocrisy — that national resource more abundant than crude oil.

When Easter overlapped elections, accommodation was responsible governance.

When Ramadan overlaps elections, accommodation becomes sectarian demand.

Same logic. Same democracy. Different reaction.

One might almost suspect the principle never changed — only the patience for applying it equally.

So this column ends where Nigeria’s memory begins:

If religion should not matter in elections, why did it matter enough to adjust them in 2003?

If it mattered rightly in 2003, why does it suddenly not matter in 2027?

And if the answer is that circumstances differ, kindly specify the constitutional article where Easter is heavier than Ramadan.

Until then, Sarcastic Sunday will continue its weekly respiratory therapy, inhaling Nigeria’s contradictions and exhaling satire — because confronting political gymnastics without sarcasm remains medically unsafe.

Breathe carefully.

Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]