From Religious Rivalry to Saving Lives: Sheikh Taoheed Mustapha Calls for New Faith Competition in Africa
From Religious Rivalry to Saving Lives: Sheikh Taoheed Mustapha Calls for New Faith Competition in Africa
By Akin Alade
At a time when religious intolerance, extremism and sectarian violence continue to threaten peaceful coexistence in parts of Africa, Sheikh Taoheed Adeshina Mustapha has called for a radical change in the way religious institutions measure influence and success.
His proposition is simple but potentially transformative: instead of competing over membership, doctrines and supremacy, churches, mosques and other religious institutions should compete over how many lives they can save, how many people they can educate and how many communities they can lift out of poverty.
Mustapha, through his TAOSAF platform, argues that Africa has reached a point where religious institutions must increasingly demonstrate their relevance through measurable contributions to humanity.
Hospitals, medical technology, research centres, schools, scholarships, vocational training, employment creation and support for vulnerable people, he believes, should become major benchmarks for religious impact.
His intervention comes alongside an equally strong condemnation of religious extremism and threats allegedly directed at him and members of his family following his public comments on intolerance and killings carried out in the name of religion.
Mustapha said he had received threatening messages because of his outspoken position against religious extremism, intolerance and unnecessary killings.
Rather than retreat, however, he insisted that intimidation would not silence his advocacy.
According to him, disagreement is a legitimate part of public discourse, but threatening people’s lives or families because of differences in religious or social opinions crosses a dangerous line.
“You are free to disagree with me. You are free to unfollow me. You are free to block me,” he declared, maintaining that he would continue to choose humanity over hatred.
His argument touches one of the fundamental challenges facing multi-religious societies: how can people defend deeply held beliefs without denying others the freedom to hold different convictions?
For Mustapha, religious conviction should never become justification for violence.
He lamented the human consequences of extremism — mothers losing husbands, children becoming orphans and families being permanently devastated.
“Enough religious hatred. Enough innocent blood. Enough widows. Enough orphans. Enough families destroyed in the name of God,” he said.
The message goes beyond Islam or Christianity.
Mustapha’s advocacy challenges Muslims, Christians, traditional religious adherents and even those without religious beliefs to recognise a common humanity that exists beyond doctrinal differences.
Religion, in his view, should provide solutions to human suffering rather than deepen divisions.
Mustapha’s argument became particularly striking while commenting on reports concerning investment by a Christian institution in sophisticated medical technology, including surgical robots intended to improve healthcare and medical training.
Rather than viewing such development through the prism of religious competition, the Islamic cleric described investment in life-saving medical infrastructure as precisely the type of competition Africa needs among its religious institutions.
His response raises an important question.
What would happen if Nigeria’s biggest churches and Islamic organisations began competing aggressively over who could build the best hospitals, sponsor the largest number of indigent students, establish world-class research laboratories or create the most employment opportunities?
What if religious prestige became increasingly connected to measurable social impact?
That, Mustapha argues, could change the meaning of religious competition across Africa.
Mustapha also stressed that humanitarian projects established by religious organisations should, wherever possible, serve people beyond denominational boundaries.
His message was characteristically humorous but profound: a medical robot should not ask a sick patient whether he or she belongs to the religious organisation that purchased it.
Disease does not discriminate between Muslims and Christians.
Cancer does not request a baptismal certificate.
Kidney disease does not distinguish between Pentecostals, Catholics, Anglicans, Muslims, traditional worshippers and atheists.
When a person desperately needs surgery, blood, medication or emergency treatment, religious identity becomes secondary to the universal struggle to preserve human life.
That principle forms the foundation of Mustapha’s “Humanity First” campaign.
Importantly, Mustapha did not restrict his challenge to Christian institutions.
As a Muslim voice, he specifically called on wealthy Islamic organisations and individuals to examine what more they could contribute towards solving Africa’s problems.
If one church establishes a sophisticated hospital, another religious organisation could establish a research institute.
If a mosque sponsors hundreds of students, another faith organisation could build a vocational centre.
If one denomination invests in medical technology, another could finance technology hubs, agricultural projects or programmes capable of creating thousands of jobs.
The competition would therefore cease to be about which religion has the loudest microphone and become a race to determine who contributes most significantly to society.
Nigeria provides fertile ground for such a conversation.
Religion occupies an enormous place in the country’s social and cultural life. Every week, millions of Nigerians attend churches and mosques, while religious leaders command substantial audiences and their institutions possess organisational structures capable of mobilising people across communities.
Many Nigerian religious organisations already operate universities, schools, hospitals, charities, feeding programmes, scholarship schemes and humanitarian initiatives.
Mustapha’s proposition therefore does not necessarily require starting from zero.
Rather, it calls for a significant expansion of the developmental role religious organisations already play.
Imagine major faith institutions deliberately competing to reduce maternal mortality.
Imagine churches and mosques jointly financing cancer treatment for poor Nigerians.
Imagine Islamic and Christian organisations establishing laboratories where young African scientists could conduct internationally competitive research.
Imagine religious bodies sponsoring thousands of young Nigerians in artificial intelligence, engineering, medicine and other emerging fields.
Such initiatives could transform religious influence into an even more powerful instrument for development.
Africa’s challenges are enormous.
Millions of young people require jobs and marketable skills. Healthcare systems need additional investment. Researchers need funding. Children require access to quality education, while vulnerable families continue to struggle with poverty and hunger.
Mustapha therefore wants religious organisations to extend their competition into these areas.
“Build research centres. Fund hospitals. Sponsor technology. Train young people. Create jobs. Feed the hungry. Support education,” he said.
This approach does not demand the abandonment of evangelism, Islamic propagation or other legitimate religious activities.
Instead, it raises a fundamental question about balance: can spiritual development and human development advance together?
History suggests they can.
Across the world, religious organisations have played major roles in education, healthcare and humanitarian intervention. Nigeria itself has numerous schools, universities and medical institutions established by faith-based organisations.
The challenge now is how to deepen that tradition in response to 21st-century problems.
Mustapha’s campaign also presents a philosophical challenge to extremists.
If religion teaches compassion, mercy, charity and respect for human dignity, violence against innocent people contradicts those principles.
A society in which religious disagreement routinely produces threats, hatred or violence cannot easily achieve sustainable development.
Investors require stability. Children require safe schools. Farmers require access to their farms without fear. Doctors need secure hospitals. Families need communities where different religious identities can coexist peacefully.
Religious tolerance therefore goes beyond theology; it has social and economic consequences.
The alleged threats against Mustapha and his family also highlight another growing challenge created by social media.
Digital platforms have dramatically expanded public participation in religious and political conversations, but disagreement can sometimes descend into abuse and threats.
Mustapha maintains that anyone offended by his opinions has several peaceful options: disagree, unfollow or block him.
Threatening someone’s family, however, cannot substitute for intellectual disagreement.
A society committed to freedom of religion and expression must create room for vigorous debate without allowing disagreements to become intimidation or violence.
Perhaps the most significant element of Mustapha’s argument is his insistence that humanity provides common ground for people of different beliefs.
A hungry child requires food regardless of religion. A brilliant but poor student requires educational opportunity. A woman requiring emergency surgery needs medical attention. An unemployed graduate needs opportunity. A community without clean water needs infrastructure.
None of these problems asks whether the victim is Muslim or Christian before causing suffering.
Religious organisations therefore have an opportunity to demonstrate the practical meaning of compassion by responding to human needs without discrimination.
Imagine an Africa where headlines announce that two major religious organisations are competing over which one will build the continent’s largest cancer research centre.
Imagine Muslims and Christians racing to sponsor 100,000 disadvantaged children through university.
Imagine religious institutions competing to develop affordable housing.
Imagine churches and mosques funding technology companies created by young Africans.
Imagine a religious rivalry centred on which institution reduced poverty the most.
That would be a dramatically different kind of competition.
And perhaps that is precisely Mustapha’s point.
Africa does not necessarily need less religion. It needs religious influence increasingly channelled towards peace, knowledge, innovation and human development.
The continent has witnessed enough arguments about whose faith is superior. It has experienced enough intolerance. It has buried too many victims of violence.
The next chapter should be different.
As Mustapha puts it through his continuing campaign: “Africa, wake up. Humanity first. Think. Question. Unite.”
If religious institutions accept that challenge, Africa could witness one of its most consequential transformations — a movement from religious rivalry towards a competition to save lives, educate generations and build stronger societies.
