Why Jesus Apologetics

In recent years, there has been a growing interest among some Igbo people in southeastern Nigeria in reviving Odinani (also called Odinala or Ọdịnanị), the traditional Igbo spiritual and cultural system. This revival often involves a conscious rejection of Christianity, which has dominated Igbo religious life for over a century. While reclaiming cultural heritage is understandable—especially after colonial-era demonization of indigenous practices—a particular argument circulating in some circles strikes at the heart of logic, theology, and ethics.

The slogan goes something like this: “Leave Satan, make Satan leave you. If you accept Jesus, you must accept Satan.” The claim is that by abandoning Jesus (and Christianity), one also abandons the concept of Satan, freeing oneself from the burden of a cosmic evil force. Since traditional Igbo cosmology supposedly has no equivalent to the Christian devil, dropping Jesus means Satan “leaves you” entirely. Some even assert that this rejection brings peace, as evil influences vanish without the “dualistic” framework introduced by Christianity.

This sounds liberating on the surface—a way to escape fear of hell, demonic oppression, or moral judgment. But upon closer examination, it is profoundly illogical and reveals a deeper motive: an attempt to evade objective moral responsibility by embracing subjectivity.

Concepts Don’t Vanish by Rejection

First, let’s address the theological and philosophical flaw head-on. The argument assumes that Satan (or the devil) is an invention tied exclusively to accepting Jesus. Reject Jesus, and poof—Satan disappears.

This is false on multiple levels:

1. Satan as a Concept Predates and Exists Beyond Christianity
While Christianity popularized the figure of Satan as the adversary, the idea of a personal evil force isn’t unique to it. More importantly, rejecting a belief system doesn’t erase the reality (if it exists) or the consequences of evil actions. If Satan were real, abandoning Christianity wouldn’t make him “leave you”—it would leave you defenseless against him. The Bible itself warns of this: spiritual forces don’t cease to exist because you ignore them (Ephesians 6:12).
But even if we set aside supernatural reality, the slogan treats “Satan” as a mere cultural import from Christianity. In reality, traditional Igbo thought does acknowledge disruptive, chaotic, or malevolent spiritual forces.

Ekwensu, often mistranslated by early missionaries as “Satan,” was originally a spirit associated with trickery, warfare, and agitation—not an ultimate evil like the Christian devil, but certainly not benign. Igbo cosmology recognizes nso ala (abominations against the earth goddess) and harmful spirits that can cause misfortune if taboos are broken. Evil isn’t absent; it’s explained differently—through imbalance, offended ancestors, or malevolent intentions.
Claiming “no Satan” in Odinani isn’t the same as claiming “no evil.” Rejecting the Christian label doesn’t eliminate wrongdoing or its effects.

2. The Package Deal Fallacy
The slogan insists: “Accept Jesus, accept Satan.” This implies Christianity forces a dualistic worldview where good and evil are locked in eternal battle, and you can’t have one without the other.
But Christianity isn’t metaphysically dualistic in the way Zoroastrianism or Manicheanism is (where good and evil gods are co-eternal equals). Biblical teaching is clear: God is the sole Creator, sovereign, and ultimate good (Isaiah 45:7; James 1:17). Satan is a created being—a fallen angel—who rebelled but remains subordinate to God’s authority (Job 1:12; Luke 10:18). Evil exists as a temporary perversion of good, not an independent eternal force.
You can reject Christianity without “importing” Satan, but you can’t pretend evil originates from the belief system you’re rejecting. Evil predates Christianity in human experience—and in Igbo history.

The Deeper Issue: Escaping Moral Accountability

The real danger of this movement isn’t cultural revival—it’s the subtle slide into moral subjectivity and irresponsibility.

By blaming Christianity for introducing “Satan” (and thus fear of evil), proponents imply that without this foreign dualism, morality becomes flexible. In traditional Odinani, ethics are rooted in community harmony, respect for ancestors (ndị ichie), natural balance, and taboos (nso ala). Wrong actions bring consequences—illness, misfortune, or communal ostracism—not because of a “devil,” but because they disrupt the cosmic order.

Yet some modern revivalists twist this into: “Since there’s no Satan tempting us, evil actions aren’t inherently ‘demonic’ or absolutely wrong—they’re just imbalances we can negotiate.” This opens the door to relativism: If evil isn’t objective (embodied in a personal adversary), then wrongdoing can be excused as cultural, situational, or even empowering.

History shows where this leads. When people reject objective moral standards (whether from Christianity or natural law), they often justify harm. In Igbo context, we’ve seen misuse of traditional practices for “money rituals” or fraud, wrongly attributed to Odinani but actually perversions of it. Claiming “Satan left us” risks removing any transcendent check on behavior, making morality subjective: “What’s wrong for you might be right for me, as long as ancestors or spirits aren’t offended in my interpretation.”

Christianity, for all its historical flaws in imposition, introduced (or reinforced) an objective moral framework: love God and neighbor, forgive enemies, care for the vulnerable—standards not dependent on cultural approval. Rejecting it to “escape Satan” often masks a desire to escape judgment altogether.

Psychological and Social Underpinnings: Why This Appeal Now?

This trend isn’t just theological—it’s reactive:

i. Legitimate anger at colonial suppression of Igbo culture.

ii. Disillusionment with prosperous but corrupt “Christian” leaders.

iii. Identity search amid globalization and marginalization.

Youth-driven neo-traditionalism uses social media to amplify pride in masquerades, language, and rituals. But extremes risk throwing out ethical babies with the colonial bathwater.

A Balanced Path Forward

Cultural pride is valuable. Many Igbo Christians already syncretize positively—honoring ancestors while following Christ, rejecting colonial demonization of Odinani. Full revival of pre-colonial practices can enrich identity without abandoning moral objectivity.

But let’s be honest: Evil doesn’t “leave you” because you change religions or slogans. Human hearts produce greed, violence, and injustice regardless of labels. Whether called Satan, Ekwensu, imbalance, or personal choice—wrong remains wrong.

True freedom isn’t rejecting accountability; it’s embracing it under a higher authority, whether Chineke (the Supreme God in Odinani) or the God revealed in Jesus. The slogan promises liberation but delivers illusion. In the end, leaving Jesus doesn’t make Satan leave you—it might just leave you alone with your conscience, unguided.

What do you think? Is cultural revival worth the risk of moral drift? Share your thoughts below.

I gbaa ọsọ ndụ. (May we run the race of life well.)