“A Very Dirty Christmas”: Beyond the Movie, a Portrait of Nigeria’s Christmas Reality

I have been a follower of Christ since February 16, 1997, and I have not looked back. My shortcomings are always before me, yet His strength is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Over the years, however, I have learned to distinguish between defending the Christian faith and defending its shadows. That distinction matters.

Since the release of A Very Dirty Christmas, there has been intense public uproar, including calls for the movie to be banned on the grounds that it offends the Christian faith and the spirit of Christmas. Yet no one has been able to explain to me how a movie, or its title obstructs the celebration of Christmas, damages the integrity of the faith, or draws people away from God.

So I ask plainly: if the movie were banned today, how exactly would that advance the Christian faith? How would it proclaim Christ, restore dignity, or bring hope to a hurting people, this season or beyond?

Some argue that the filmmakers should have been more sensitive. That may open an ethical conversation. But sensitivity is not the same as blasphemy. Scripture shows that the Christian faith has survived, and often thrived through cultural hostility and far harsher provocations than any film.

I also refuse to measure my Christian response by how another faith might respond The protocols and tenets of our faith are different. Christ did not instruct us to defend belief through censorship, outrage, or bans, but through light, truth, love, and witness (Matthew 5:14–16).

Indeed, I even have a choice whether to celebrate Christmas at all. The Bible does not command it. The celebration of Christmas is not a doctrinal requirement for salvation (Romans 14:5–6). My belief in the virgin birth, the Sonship of Christ, and His Lordship over my life does not rest on a date, a festival, or the commercial and cultural excesses built around it. The same applies to the ritual noise that often accompanies the transition into a new year.

So again, I ask: how does calling for the ban of a movie protect the faith?

I have not seen the movie, and I am not particularly concerned about its content. What concerns me deeply is religion without God.

Because while the nation debates symbolism and offence, millions of Nigerians are already living a very dirty and very dry Christmas. This is not metaphorical.

Barely days to Christmas, at least five young men were killed during an armed attack on the Ortese community in Guma Local Government Area of Benue State. On Christmas Eve itself, at least five people were confirmed dead and dozens injured following a suicide bombing at the Gamboru Jumu’at Mosque in Maiduguri, Borno State.

According to Nigeria’s National Bureau of Statistics, over 133 million Nigerians are living in multidimensional poverty, lacking adequate access to food, healthcare, shelter, education, and basic human dignity. Humanitarian agencies consistently report that tens of millions face acute food insecurity, meaning many families will go to bed hungry this Christmas not by choice, but by circumstance.

The security dimension compounds this hardship. Data cited by Amnesty International and other global monitors show that thousands of civilians have been killed in recent years due to terrorism, banditry, and communal violence. More than two million Nigerians remain internally displaced, many of them women and children, living in camps or unstable arrangements with little certainty about tomorrow.

Widows and widowers are navigating life without their spouses. Parents have buried their children. Many children have been orphaned by violence that pays no regard to seasons, holidays, or sacred calendars.

And as the year closes, Nigerians are being told to brace for another round of tax measures in the new year, amid widespread economic strain and unresolved questions about fairness, restraint, and shared sacrifice.

This may not be the theme of any movie, but it is the lived reality of many Nigerians.

So perhaps the deeper question this season is not whether a screen offends us, but whether our silence about suffering does.

If Christmas means anything at all, it must mean good news to the poor, healing for the broken, and light in dark places (Luke 4:18-19). Anything less risks becoming noise, religious, loud, and disconnected from God.

For many Nigerians, this is not just a dirty Christmas.

It is a captive one.

Do have an INSPIRED Christmas with the families.

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