OPINION: The TB Joshua Saga

“Don’t speak ill of the dead!”

This has been a common refrain since the mindboggling BBC documentary about TB Joshua rented the airwaves. By this, it is to be assumed that we are not to speak ill of tyrants and murderers, the likes of Adolf Hitler, Sani Abacha, King Henry VIII, Mobutu Sese Seko, or Idi Amin, who keenly slaughtered his own countrymen and women in their hundreds of thousands, including a wife who bore some of his countless children.

As the saying goes, the evil that men do lives after them. So, a person who has devoted their life to wrecking lifelong misery in the lives of others is not offered immunity because they passed on. The person will be spoken of exactly as remembered, and the skies will not fall, as the fans and followers of TB Joshua might hope.

It is true that the dead cannot defend themselves. But in many instances, friends of the dead, their loved ones, associates, or their estate are well placed to offer a robust defence to counter what they perceive as slanderous lies. But in the case of TB, Joshua, his church, when contacted by the BBC for a response to their findings, reacted with disturbing detachment to allegations so putrid that it perforated the lining of one’s stomach.

As is to be expected, particularly in our part of the world, many have reacted with outrage to BBC’s expose. To some, it is an all-too-familiar scenario—a vile attempt by the evil white man to ruin the reputation and legacy of a man of God who devoted his life to preaching the gospel, healing the sick, and feeding the poor. It is a typical pushback from Christian circles whose default position in similar situations is to jump to the defence of the accused.

Nigerians saw this play out when a well-known Abuja-based preacher was accused of rape. And, of course, when videos of the privates of another well-known preacher circulated on various social media platforms, the reaction was the same—the devil attempting to destroy a man of God. Very few considered the fact that the devil did not pull down his trousers and encourage him to show off his genitals to his mistress.

While this piece does not claim with certainty that TB Joshua perpetrated those horrible crimes, keeping in view the danger of a single story, nonetheless, it is important to examine two burning questions. Do preachers do bad things? Is it possible for a man like TB Joshua, with his shimmering public persona, to be the monster portrayed in that documentary? These questions are vital since many Christians are contending that he is a pastor and, therefore, a being beyond reproach.

Incidentally, the centerpiece of this writer’s ongoing doctoral research studies (Ph.D.) is a critical examination of the increasingly indistinguishable dividing line between the church as a place of worship or, the church as a place to be worshipped. This is seen in the increasingly commonplace evolution of men of God to becoming gods of men—wielding total and sometimes ruthless dominance over their followers. It is not an uncommon phenomenon and one that this writer had once been a victim of.

It is hardly surprising that TB Joshua’s people do not appear to brim with indignation, threatening the mother of all lawsuits against the BBC for what they should ordinarily deem a horrendous slur on their leader’s character and the church by extension, more so, that his wife, who stands to lose the most by this gut-wrenching scandal, now heads it.

But a self-preserving tortoise knows to recoil under its shell to allow the winds of danger to blow past rather than stick out its head to confront it. It is anyone’s guess that the church has probably taken the position not to come out with guns blazing, preferring instead to allow the trending story to die a natural death within the shortest possible time.

Dr. Steven Hassan, a former cult member, is an author and mental health counselor whose main areas of expertise are cults and new religious movements. He expounded the BITE Model (an acronym for Behaviour, Information, Thoughts, and Emotions).

His theory is that if a leader successfully controls these four elements: how the follower is to behave, the type of information received, the followers’ thoughts, and is also able to manipulate the follower’s emotions, the leader becomes positioned to exercise disguised authoritarian control over the follower.

For example, in the widening Pentecostal/evangelical circles, the rising culture of calling pastors and their spouses, “daddy” “papa” “mummy” or “first lady,’ dropping to the knees in deference of the pastor or fawningly endorsing or enabling the pastor’s glaringly questionable deeds or character, all point to one thing: Mindlessness.

In other words, a mind that no longer belongs to the individual but is compliantly placed in the hands of the pastor. Eliminated is the obligation to reflect, the right to question, or the boldness to challenge. And the BBC’s revelations on TB Joshua have fortunately shone a torch on this poisonous culture.

The jaw-dropping revelations should both enrage and deeply embarrass the wider community of Christians, starting with members of the church. We should see or hear of the Christian Association of Nigeria, Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria, and their likes getting off their romps to take proactive steps in inviting some sanity. After all, the crimes attributed to TB Joshua are not unique to him. They are increasingly widespread.

It is a collective shame to the community of Christians that foreigners trooped to TB Joshua’s church in droves with expectations of positive, life-changing outcomes on returning to their countries, only to be sacrificed on the altar of the man’s greed and ambition.

The deaths that followed the collapse of the unlawful structure were an avoidable tragedy that only occurred because TB Joshua was rich and powerful, which in Nigeria means he is protected by the State and her various law enforcement agencies.

Nigerians saw this play out when the Lagos State Coroner ruled that TB Joshua and the church be held criminally responsible for those deaths, but nothing came of it. Ten years on, the victims’ relatives are left to whistle for their due compensation. How are we not outraged by this? How is the State?

How are we not stunned that TB Joshua’s own daughter tells a corroborated story of being beaten mercilessly at her father’s behest for daring to ask questions others were too afraid to ask, then imprisoned for months before being pushed out onto the streets into a life of destitution? Perhaps it’s not all as strange as it sounds.

When another well-known preacher physically assaulted a young woman in the full glare of the cameras, he was applauded by an impressed congregation. Not a pip was heard from law enforcement. And the lame-duck regulatory bodies, who must have known about the incident after it went viral on social media, did not raise an eyebrow. It was all business as usual.

TB Joshua, having been enabled over the years by the State, law enforcement, his flock, close family, and society at large, could very well have committed those crimes. I am inclined to believe he did. But if he didn’t, and he is exonerated, I am willing to fly to Lagos from the UK in my boxer shorts to show atonement for my hasty conclusion. Somehow I doubt that I will ever need to.

David Kunle Agunbiade, an author, creative writer, spoken word artist, and doctoral research student (Ph.D.) in Creative and Critical Writing, is also the founding CEO of FictionbyDavid Publishers.

Disclaimer: This article is entirely the opinion of the writer and does not represent the views of The Whistler.