Give Us This Day Our Daily Yam: Nigeria’s Hunger, Heaven’s Silence, And The Gospel of Justice

 

 

By Emmanuel Mihiingo Kaija

 

I. Introduction: The Famine in the Midst of Abundance

 

Nigeria, often celebrated as the “Giant of Africa,” rests on a land brimming with fertile soils, abundant rainfall, and an agrarian heritage stretching back centuries. Yet this blessing has become a bitter paradox. In 2025, nearly 31 million Nigerians—more than one in eight people—face acute hunger, marking a staggering 33% increase from 2024 (WFP 2025). The northeastern states of Borno, Yobe, and Adamawa bear the brunt of this crisis, with over 5 million residents battling food insecurity daily and almost two million children on the brink of severe acute malnutrition. This stark reality is not merely a failure of nature but a symptom of broken systems, fractured leadership, and neglected stewardship. The prophet Isaiah’s question pierces through the crisis, “Why do you spend money for what is not bread, and your wages for what never satisfies?” (Isaiah 55:2). This rhetorical challenge indicts a society that invests wealth in imports and unstable markets, while allowing millions to starve. It summons Nigerian hearts and hands to a sober reckoning—a call to renew covenantal care for the land and each other, blending spiritual fervor with pragmatic action.

 

II. Economic Breakdown and the Weight of Food Dependency

 

At the heart of Nigeria’s food crisis lies an economic system teetering on the brink, entangled in a web of fiscal mismanagement and global dependency. The inflation rate for food prices surged to a crushing 41% in mid-2025, dwarfing the overall inflation of 34%, driven by a precipitous decline of the naira, removal of subsidies, and erratic government policies that suffocate local agricultural productivity (WFP 2025). Nigeria’s annual expenditure on imported staples like rice, wheat, and maize runs into billions of dollars, even as homegrown farms fall into disuse under the weight of insecurity and poor infrastructure. The Senate’s recent proposal criminalizing exports of unprocessed corn above one ton reflects an urgent attempt to guard scarce resources, but simultaneously exposes a nation caught in paradox—exporting food amid domestic hunger. A Hausa proverb resonates deeply here: “He who sells the last grain invites the stranger to feast,” a caution against sacrificing communal survival for short-term gain. Nigeria’s plight echoes the ancient wisdom of Joseph in Egypt, who preserved grain in barns ahead of famine (Genesis 41:47–49), illustrating the necessity of strategic reserves and self-reliant production rather than surrendering sustenance to the volatile global market’s caprices. The biblical warning against serving Mammon (Matthew 6:24) reminds policymakers and citizens alike that economic salvation cannot come at the expense of the hungry neighbor’s bread.

 

III. Climate Calamities and Conflict: A Dual Blow to Agriculture

 

The Nigerian food crisis is a brutal collision of nature’s fury and human conflict, each amplifying the other’s devastation. In May 2025, torrential flash floods swept through Mokwa, Niger State, claiming over 500 lives, uprooting thousands, and obliterating more than 10,000 hectares of vital farmland, thereby erasing a significant portion of regional food supply (Niger State Emergency Report 2025). In the northeast, the catastrophic collapse of the Alau Dam in late 2024 displaced nearly half a million people and destroyed 70% of Maiduguri’s arable land, turning once-productive fields into wastelands (Borno State Report 2024). Meanwhile, desertification creeps steadily southward, rivers shrink or disappear, and droughts parch soils as witnessed by Sokoto farmer Umaru Muazu, whose irrigation wells have run dry and whose fields no longer bear crops. This ecological pain evokes Paul’s lament in Romans 8:22, “the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth,” and Hosea’s prophetic indictment of faithlessness causing ecological decay (Hosea 4:1–3). The intertwining of climate-induced disaster and violent conflicts—especially between herders and farmers in the Middle Belt—renders agricultural recovery not just a technical challenge but a spiritual and social imperative. This dire situation demands a holistic response, where the Church, government, and communities unite to restore justice, peace, and sustainable stewardship of creation.

 

IV. The Human Cost: Children Starving and Futures Imperiled

 

Beyond statistics and policies, the food crisis manifests as the tragic deprivation of millions of Nigerian children and pregnant women, whose lives hang precariously in the balance. UNICEF reports that 5.4 million children and nearly 800,000 pregnant women are at risk of acute malnutrition, with a dire projection of 1.8 million children facing severe acute malnutrition (SAM) in 2025 (UNICEF 2025). The threat is exacerbated by humanitarian aid cuts that risk shuttering 150 nutrition clinics, leaving tens of thousands untreated and vulnerable. Save the Children warns of an 80% surge in SAM cases compared to the previous year, a grim marker of a deepening crisis that saps the nation’s future. The African proverb, “He who blesses the poor lends to the Lord” (Proverbs 22:9), profoundly reminds us that caring for the vulnerable is a sacred duty and divine investment, not mere charity. Nigeria’s failure to protect its children from hunger not only violates moral and spiritual laws but mortgages its future generations to poverty, ill-health, and lost potential.

 

V. Insecurity and the Disruption of Agricultural Livelihoods

 

The violence roiling Nigeria’s Middle Belt violently disrupts farming livelihoods that have sustained communities for centuries. Empirical research from Benue State quantifies this impact starkly: even a 1% increase in insecurity corresponds to a 0.21% drop in crop yields and a 0.31% decline in livestock productivity (Benue Agricultural Security Report 2024). Herder-farmer clashes have uprooted families, razed fields, and fractured the trust needed for communal resilience and economic stability. This turmoil undermines not just food production but the very social fabric that binds Nigeria’s diverse peoples. Scripture’s call in Isaiah 1:17 to “seek justice, correct oppression, bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause” offers a prophetic blueprint for peacebuilding rooted in restoring dignity, securing land rights, and establishing reconciliation mechanisms. Only through faith-informed conflict resolution and inclusive governance can the food crisis begin to be addressed beyond the surface of mere hunger statistics.

 

VI. Voices from the Fields: The Human Face of Famine

 

Numbers and reports find their most poignant expression in the testimonies of those living the crisis daily. Halima Musa, a widow from Maiduguri, embodies resilience amid despair, walking ten kilometers weekly to collect a bag of donated rice from a dwindling aid center. Her once-fertile farm lies fallow, overtaken by conflict, with her children’s futures precariously balanced on the fragile thread of charity. Similarly, Umaru Muazu of Sokoto mourns the death of his land’s productivity: “I once fed others from my land; now I beg for a grain cup’s worth.” These voices are the living echoes of Hosea’s vision of a wounded land ravaged by unfaithfulness—where famine is not only physical starvation but a cultural and spiritual bleeding. These stories demand from the Church and society not passive sympathy but active, compassionate engagement that seeks to restore dignity through structural transformation.

 

VII. Toward a Biblical Framework for Food Justice

 

Nigeria’s pathway out of crisis must be rooted in a holistic biblical vision that couples faith with action—a gospel of food justice that transcends handouts to embrace systemic change. The early Christian community, as recorded in Acts 6, responded to food inequities through communal sharing and organized care, modeling an ethic of mutual responsibility and inclusion. Nigeria is called to emulate this by investing in community granaries, empowering smallholder cooperatives, and embedding agrarian theology into both preaching and public policy. A Yoruba proverb teaches, “If you close your ear to the cry of the poor, your own cry will not be heard,” reminding us that neglect carries communal consequences. This spiritual awakening must be matched by concrete policy reforms: scaling irrigation infrastructure, promoting mechanization (currently only 0.027 horsepower per hectare against the FAO’s recommendation of 1.5 hp), and dismantling bureaucratic obstacles to seed distribution. The Church’s prophetic role involves advocacy, stewardship, and inspiring hope rooted in God’s abundant creation.

 

VIII. Conclusion: Sowing Mercy for a Harvest of Shalom

 

Nigeria’s food crisis is a profound call to repentance and renewal—a lament from the soil and a summons to action. Scripture assures us that God “satisfies the thirsty and fills the hungry with good things” (Psalm 107:9), offering hope that restoration is possible. But this hope demands the unity of prayer and policy, worship and work, scripture and seed. The Church must lead not only in pulpit proclamation but in planting; government leaders must legislate not just budgets but breadlines; communities must cultivate both fields and futures. The harvest of shalom—the peace, justice, and wholeness that God intends—awaits Nigeria’s faithful sowing. The urgent question remains: will Nigeria rise to sow mercy, or be left to reap shame?

 

Emkaijawrites@gmail.com