
Holding on to faith in the UK is both a comfort and a compass. It reminds Nigerians of where they come from, anchors them through challenges, and keeps them connected to community. In many ways, the church is the heartbeat of the diaspora.
By Mary Opii
For many Nigerians, faith is not just a belief system; it is a lifestyle woven into daily life. Moving to the UK does not dim this fire, but it does reshape how spirituality is practiced in the diaspora.
One of the first things many Nigerians do upon arrival in the UK is look for a church. Pentecostal, Anglican, Catholic, and other denominations have thriving communities here. Some services are so full of Nigerians that stepping inside feels like a piece of home transplanted across continents.
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When I first attended a Nigerian church in the UK, I was struck by how familiar everything felt, the music, the prayers, even the announcements. It was as if I had been transported back to Lagos on a Sunday morning, yet outside the window stood the cold grey skies of Britain. That mix of familiarity and foreignness is what keeps many of us grounded.
There is a noticeable difference between predominantly white British churches and African/Nigerian churches. In many white churches, the services are quiet, structured, and often last just about an hour. The worship is reflective, hymns are sung with solemnity, and the atmosphere leans towards reverence in silence. Some white churches don’t even take offerings or tithes during service. Instead, at the end, members gather for fellowship over tea, coffee, and light snacks, something quite unusual for Nigerians who are used to offering baskets and building fund announcements.
I still remember my first time in a white church where, instead of the usual call for offerings, everyone was gently ushered to a small hall for tea and biscuits. I couldn’t help but smile, it felt strange but refreshing, and I thought to myself, “So this is their own kind of fellowship?” It was a reminder that while styles may differ, the essence of community remains the same.
In contrast, African churches burst with energy, praise and worship can feel like a concert, filled with dancing, drumming, clapping, and vibrant expressions of joy. Services often last longer, and the community spirit continues after the benediction, with people catching up, eating together, and sharing life beyond the pulpit.
For Nigerians, attending a white church can feel culturally enriching but emotionally distant, while an African church feels like an extension of home, where faith is expressed not just in words, but in rhythm, warmth. Life in the UK can be isolating. Work schedules, studies, and the pressure of survival sometimes make it difficult to stay consistent in faith. Some Nigerians confess that without the close-knit community of home, it is easy to drift spiritually. Others find new depth in personal devotion, learning to lean on God in solitude.
Churches in the diaspora go beyond worship. They provide a network for jobs, accommodation, emotional support, and even financial help in emergencies. For many Nigerians, faith abroad is not just about Sunday services, it is about having a family in a land that might otherwise feel lonely.
Holding on to faith in the UK is both a comfort and a compass. It reminds Nigerians of where they come from, anchors them through challenges, and keeps them connected to community. In many ways, the church is the heartbeat of the diaspora.