In the face of Nigeria’s growing religious and ethnic tensions, Rev. Fr. Lawrence Chukwunweike Emehel has emerged as a key advocate for dialogue, reconciliation, and peacebuilding. A priest of the Catholic Diocese of Sokoto and now Director of the Department of Mission and Dialogue at the Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria, Fr. Emehel brings years of pastoral experience and academic training in Arabic and Islamic Studies to his national leadership role. In this conversation with Voice Afrique, he reflects on the Church’s response to the crisis, the challenge of interreligious dialogue, and what it will take to build a peaceful future.
Voice Afrique:
Reflecting on almost a year in office, what have been your department’s main priorities or initiatives given Nigeria’s worsening religious and ethnic conflicts?
Fr. Emehel:
Thank you very much, Father, for the opportunity to speak with you today. I want to share my thoughts, and as you’ve asked, I will introduce myself. My name is Rev. Fr. Lawrence Chukwunweike Emehel. I am a priest of the Catholic Diocese of Sokoto, in northwest Nigeria, often called the seat of the Caliphate, where the Sultan of Sokoto resides. I was ordained for the diocese and have served in various roles. A significant chapter in my life was my transfer in 2010 to a village called Layin-Minista in Katsina State, a rural Hausa community. Many wondered how I would survive there, considering the Masses were conducted in Hausa. However, having been born in Sokoto, educated in Zaria, and immersed in the region, I was able to integrate well and speak the language. This experience helped me to witness firsthand the coexistence of Christians and Muslims of shared ethnic backgrounds.
During that period—the time of the Arab Spring—I followed the news via Al Jazeera in English and occasionally watched in Arabic (though I didn’t understand). I observed a reporting gap between the two versions as complaints came on media spaces by those who understood both languages, which sparked my interest in Arabic. My curiosity about Islam started earlier when Rev. Fr. Prof. Joseph Kenny, O.P., introduced us to Islamic studies during seminary formation. This led me to Cairo, Egypt, where I studied Arabic and Islamic Studies at Dar Comboni Institute, Zamalek. I later completed my education at the Pontifical Institute for Arabic and Islamic Studies (PISAI) in Rome.
After returning to Nigeria, I worked in University Chaplaincy at Federal University, Dutsin-Ma and parish ministry at St. Mary’s Church, Dutsin-Ma, Katsina State before serving six years as Diocesan Director at the Justice Development and Peace Caritas (JDPC) office, Diocese of Sokoto. Subsequently, and with the permission of Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah,Bishop of Sokoto, I applied for and was accepted as the Secretary for Interreligious Dialogue at the Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria for the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of Nigeria. When the previous Director of the Department of Mission and Dialogue finished his term last year, I applied and was appointed to serve as Director of Mission and Dialogue for Catholic Secretariat of Nigeria, Abuja.
My vision upon taking office was shaped by Nigeria’s fractured social fabric, often divided along religious, political, and ethnic lines. However, religion remains a common thread. I have focused on building bridges between Christians and Muslims, especially from the Catholic perspective. Importantly, I have also emphasised the need to include followers of African Traditional Religion (ATR), who are often ignored or excluded in interreligious dialogue. Many of them live among us, within families, yet are seen as outsiders. In regions like the Southeast, shrines are sometimes destroyed in crusades—a form of religiously motivated violence—a clear contradiction of gospel values. We are called not to conquer, but to present Christ through peace, dialogue, and witness.
Dialogue, from the Catholic standpoint, must include everyone—Muslims, ATR followers, Jews, Hindus—any person of goodwill. We seek common ground rooted in the dignity of every human person.
Voice Afrique:
How do you balance the Catholic mission of evangelization with the demands of interfaith dialogue, especially in volatile contexts like northern Nigeria, where Christians feel under attack?
Fr. Emehel:
This is a very important question. Evangelization and dialogue are not mutually exclusive. The Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue has given us two critical documents — Dialogue and Mission and Dialogue and Proclamation. These guide our approach.
Dialogue is not proselytism. It’s not about “winning” people. It’s about listening and being listened to. When we dialogue, we create space for mutual understanding while remaining rooted in our own faith identity.
As a Catholic, I present Christ not through force but through presence and witness. When people notice the good that I do and ask what motivates me, I tell them it is the Gospel. That’s evangelization by witness.
In places where open preaching is not permitted — such as parts of North Africa — Christians still bear witness to Christ through their daily lives. This is what I call “presence as witness.” Our mission continues in this manner — by being present, engaging in dialogue, and inviting hearts without using force.
Voice Afrique:
Some advocacy groups and legal experts now describe the violence against Christians in Nigeria as genocide. Others warn that this framing oversimplifies the conflict and overlooks Muslim victims. How does the Catholic Secretariat position itself in these debates, and how does your office engage with them?
Fr. Emehel:
These are deeply troubling times for us in Nigeria. The situation is difficult—not just for Christians, but also for Muslims engaged in peacebuilding and dialogue. Both communities are under immense pressure, and it’s becoming increasingly complex to convince our people that dialogue still holds value. But we must keep trying. We must continue calling everyone to a renewed sense of responsibility.
Christians have suffered terribly. From the Boko Haram insurgency in the Northeast—Gombe, Yobe, Adamawa—to more recent attacks in the Middle Belt, particularly in Benue and Plateau, the loss has been immense. Churches have been burned, villages decimated, and innocent lives taken. Entire communities have been displaced. These are undeniable facts.
Yet, it’s also important to acknowledge that Muslims, too, have suffered—not as a result of Christian retaliation, but at the hands of the same criminal elements who continue to wreak havoc indiscriminately. These are people who have taken up arms not only against individuals but against the Nigerian state itself.
In the face of all this, our primary responsibility must be to name criminality for what it is—without ambiguity—and to hold the government and security agencies accountable. There are widespread concerns—some speak of incompetence, others of negligence or even collusion. The truth likely lies somewhere in between. Security forces have made some efforts, but in many areas, they are still falling short. And regardless of where the blame lies, Nigerians are dying. That should be our greatest concern.
Regarding the question of genocide: Yes, some have made the case that the situation constitutes genocide. Others, however, urge restraint and caution. We must be careful with language. Genocide is a heavy term—legally and morally—and applying it without rigorous substantiation can inflame tensions and potentially play into the hands of fifth columnists—those who seek to push Nigeria into a full-blown religious crisis. A crisis of that nature would be catastrophic and likely irreparable.
We are standing at a fragile intersection. That’s why the Catholic Bishops’ Conference has consistently emphasized the common good. We must resist the urge to oversimplify complex realities or to exploit pain for political gain. Our responsibility is to seek justice without vengeance, and to pursue peace without denial.
Sometimes, when we see the grief—videos of funerals, the cries of religious leaders—we are moved to deep introspection. It forces us to ask difficult questions: What is really happening? Where are we heading? These are not rhetorical questions—they are existential.
So, our position remains clear: we grieve the Christian lives lost, we acknowledge the Muslim lives lost, and we call on security agencies to act decisively and professionally. We must prevent this country from slipping into religious war. Nigeria is fragile enough as it is.
At the end of the day, even after all the destruction and killing, people still return to the table. Dialogue continues—often in hushed, broken voices—but it continues. And that’s the path we must continue to walk. Because in dialogue, there is still hope.
Voice Afrique:
What tangible steps — either within your department or in partnership with Muslim leaders — are being taken to foster reconciliation, protect vulnerable communities, and go beyond symbolic dialogue?
Fr. Emehel:
First and foremost, our approach to dialogue is deeply rooted in the respect for the dignity of every human person. We aim to discover shared values—peace, justice, and the sanctity of life—that transcend religious divides and unite us as children of God. This principle guides both our vision and our approach.
Dialogue, especially in today’s Nigeria, is not optional—it is vital. Even after violence and destruction, communities come back to the table. It is through honest conversation that we start to see healing, reconciliation, and ceasefires emerge. We often say: dialogue is the path that endures when all others fail.
Unfortunately, many still regard dialogue as merely symbolic—something performed by high-profile leaders over polite tea. But genuine dialogue goes far deeper. In the Department for Mission and Dialogue, we operate on four interconnected levels: dialogue of life, dialogue of theological exchange, dialogue of experience, and dialogue of action. These aren’t academic categories—they form the pillars of our work.
In practice, we maintain at least 59 dialogue desks across Nigeria’s 36 states and the FCT. Each desk is led by a trained director—many of whom are not specialists in Islam or Arabic, like myself, but are dedicated, passionate, and rooted in their local communities. We have trained them not just in theory but in grassroots engagement, equipping them to serve as foot soldiers for peace.
These directors frequently engage with Muslim leaders, traditional rulers, Christian pastors, and civil society actors. They encourage difficult conversations at the community level—where it truly matters. Dialogue at this level focuses on building trust, listening, and being present.
One of our most impactful initiatives is the International Day of Human Fraternity, inspired by the historic document co-signed by Pope Francis and Sheikh Ahmad al-Tayyib. We organised a major national celebration in Abuja, but we have since decentralised it—empowering dioceses to observe the day through interfaith conversations and joint actions. It helps us practice the dialogue of life and theological exchange, using shared values to uphold human dignity.
We also create annual programs focused on peacebuilding—especially in fragile communities and areas of displacement. We don’t just respond to crises; we work to prevent future conflicts by maintaining peaceful coexistence where it already exists. We aim to incorporate interreligious dialogue into daily community life. We want people to see Christians and Muslims working side by side, not just worshipping separately. When communities build together, they become more resilient against division.
At the core of all this is witness. Evangelization is most powerful not through words but through actions. When people see what we do, they ask: “What inspires you?” And that becomes our invitation to share the Gospel. It’s never about coercion. Even in places where speaking about Christ is forbidden—like parts of North Africa—our mere presence is a witness. Presence is a mission.
Of course, we also need to ask difficult questions: Who left the door open? As we say in our local parlance, it is the rat in the house that warns the one in the bush that there is fish inside. Selfish interests—frequently masked in religious rhetoric—exploit our divisions. Too much of our national dialogue reduces to a contest of numbers: Who suffers more? Who controls more? But beneath all these, there is a political and ethnic struggle masked in religious terms.
Still, I tell everyone involved in interfaith and ecumenical dialogue: do not lose hope. Dialogue is slow. It can seem invisible, but it is effective. It is growing. It is saving lives. I applaud all our champions—Cardinal Onaiyekan, Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah, Bishop Stephen Mamza, and Sheikh Nuruddeen Lemu—men who have stayed faithful in the trenches. May they keep going. May we all endure.
Our mission is to build, not destroy.
Voice Afrique:
With your experience in Sokoto and your national leadership role, what is your message to Nigeria — and to the world — about what must happen now to heal the religious wounds and prevent further descent into sectarian crisis?
Fr. Emehel:
First, I want to acknowledge the tireless efforts of individuals like Dr. Nurudeen Lemu, OON, the Executive Director of the Da’wah Institute in Minna. I pray the Lord continues to bless him. Many others are working in this field who haven’t given up—and I pray they don’t.
To Nigerians, I say: do not lose hope. As Christians, we are pilgrims of hope. This year was declared the Jubilee Year of Hope, and hope is something we must never give up on. We must continue striving for unity and mutual understanding. Unity doesn’t mean erasing our differences; it means respecting each other’s rights to live, to exist, and to express ourselves with dignity as citizens.
Yes, Nigerians have suffered greatly. Still, I urge everyone to remain resolute. When I say “keep fighting,” I do not mean violence—I mean pressing forward with confidence, courage, and resilience.
To the Nigerian state, I ask: where did we drop the ball? Who left the door open? I salute our armed forces, both men and women, across the country. Their loyalty must always be to the Federal Republic of Nigeria and the Constitution. The nation is bigger than any individual. Anyone—regardless of position—who gives instructions that go against our constitutional values becomes, in essence, an enemy of the state.
To our security forces: keep fighting, but not in aggression. Fight to defend Nigeria’s territorial integrity and protect our people. Uphold law and order without becoming agents of violence.
And to the international community: Nigeria is at a crossroads. We face serious challenges. But we have many friends, and we seek mutually beneficial relationships. The disintegration of Nigeria—with over 200 million citizens—would be catastrophic, not just for West Africa or the continent, but for the world. It’s in everyone’s interest that we stay united.
Let us collaborate both globally and locally to build—not destroy. We all share this responsibility to uphold.
Ultimately, we are all accountable to God, who gave us life and called us to live in harmony. As Christians, our mission is not to destroy but to promote peace and human dignity. We are called to enhance life, not diminish it. Thank you.