The following are the views expressed by Olufemi Oguntokun in the June 2, 2026, episode of the On the Lord’s Side Podcast — Christian perspectives on news and current events.
ON CNN’S 46TH ANNIVERSARY AND THE WISDOM OF NUMBERING OUR DAYS
I am sure you know the brand CNN — the Cable News Network — perhaps the most globally ubiquitous news media brand in the world. Yesterday, on the 1st of June, many people, especially those affiliated with CNN, celebrated the 46th anniversary of its very first news broadcast. For many of us, we look at CNN and simply assume it has always been there. But it was on June 1, 1980 that the first ever news bulletin aired.
This came to my attention because I came across a clip of that first broadcast on social media, and I want to look more closely at the news items it covered. The lead story was President Jimmy Carter arriving in Fort Wayne, Indiana, to visit civil rights leader Vernon Jordan, who had been shot just days earlier and was recovering in hospital. There was an interview with President Carter by the legendary journalist Daniel Schorr, live responses from independent presidential candidate John B. Anderson, and taped material from both the Carter and Reagan campaigns. There was also a report on the controversy over Israeli settlements in the West Bank, and even a story about Yankees slugger Reggie Jackson having a close call with a gunman.
There is something always fascinating about looking back at past broadcasts and imagining what must have been going on in the minds of those people. So let us pause and examine the relevance of those stories — and, more pointedly, what has become of the key figures who made headlines that day 46 years ago. Vernon Jordan, the prominent civil rights leader who had been shot, passed away on March 1, 2021. Daniel Schorr, that legendary journalist who interviewed President Carter, died on July 23, 2010. The independent candidate, John B. Anderson, passed away in 2017. President Jimmy Carter himself died on December 29, 2024. And the founder of CNN, Ted Turner, has also passed away recently.
Think about it: the dominant talk in that 1980 broadcast was the presidential election. How many elections has America held since then? Eleven more — 1984, 1988, 1992, 1996, 2000, 2004, 2008, 2012, 2016, 2020, and 2024. Each one engaged hearts and minds. Each one stirred passions. Each one felt urgent at the time. And that is precisely my point: just as the news of June 1, 1980 sounded urgent, important, and engaging, so do the news items of today come to us as urgent, important, and engaging.
From a Christian perspective, it is good to count the years and to celebrate anniversaries like this one. Milestones remind us of progress and change. But the word of God calls us to something deeper. Psalm 90:12 says, “So teach us to number our days.” It is a good thing to number our days. For everyone who posted those clips from the first CNN broadcast, that is a good thing. But not for the sake of nostalgia alone — not just to marvel at the hairstyle of the man who presented the news, or the gadgets in the studio, or the streets of America 46 years ago. We are not numbering our days merely to reflect that days are passing and things are changing. The full verse says, “Teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
So what wisdom can we apply here? The news of 1980, dramatic as it was, stands as a powerful reminder that all things pass away. Leaders rise and fall. Jimmy Carter was president then, preparing for re-election. Ronald Reagan was preparing to challenge him, and he did — successfully — and became president. Ronald Reagan himself is now gone, having served two terms. Headlines fade. Even mighty institutions and movements eventually change.
Isaiah 40 reminds us that all flesh is grass, and all its glory is as the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of God shall stand forever. And 1 John 2:17 tells us the world passes away, and the lust thereof, but he that does the will of God abides forever.
So if you come across any celebration of CNN’s first broadcast, let it not be just about counting years and celebrating media history. Let it turn your heart to wisdom. And if you find people discussing it, find a way to lead the conversation back to the gospel of Christ. Ask the question: those people featured in the news that day — where are they now? In a world of constant breaking news, we must anchor ourselves in the eternal world that never passes away. Celebrating milestones is edifying — but only to the extent that it teaches us to apply our hearts unto wisdom. I pray that none of us will walk as fools in this world, but that we will walk circumspectly indeed, in Jesus’ name. Amen.
ON KEJI GIWA, “WE MUST LIVE,” AND BANKING ON NIGERIA NOT GETTING BETTER
The next story concerns a man who is neither a politician nor what you would call a leading media personality — but in today’s social media culture, amassing a substantial following is enough to make you a celebrity of sorts. His name is Keji Giwa. Many Nigerian bloggers prefix his name with the title “billionaire,” and he does not deny it; you only have to look at the construction and infrastructure projects he celebrates online. (As an aside — I guessed his age at between 38 and 48, and it turns out he is 48. So at least I got that right.)
We are discussing him today because, in a recent broadcast, he said something that got many people understandably angry and got many others thinking about the fundamental problems of Nigeria. He said, plainly, “I’m banking on Nigeria not getting better.”
The fuller context: Giwa was defending his support for President Bola Tinubu, and he argued that any businessman who ignores politics in Nigeria is setting himself up for failure. In his words, anybody doing business in Nigeria who doesn’t think politics is part and parcel of their success has no business doing business in Nigeria. To his critics who call him a traitor for supporting Tinubu, he asked: what do you want me to do — point the finger at the very person who can snap a finger and take away everything I have worked for? Would my critics feed me afterward? Would they take care of my children? And then the line that shocked many: whether Nigeria gets better or not, he is perfectly okay — in fact, he is banking on it not getting better.
People were offended, particularly by that last part. One commenter said his head was “like avocado pear.” Another wrote that there is wisdom in silence. Another insisted, “Nigeria will be better — it’s the only country we have, and we must believe in it no matter what.”
I want to make three points about this.
First, it is a reminder that we live in a society where things are inverted — turned upside down — and that many people are profiting from that inversion and would therefore prefer for it to continue. Giwa’s first claim is that, in Nigeria, if you have an expansive commercial or financial empire, you are largely dependent on the government. Now, it ought not to be so. Ordinarily, we would want an economy that is not structured that way. But this appears to be the reality, and it has been so for a long time — not only for large business empires, but for extraordinary success in many endeavors.
I recall, when my friends and I had just left law school and were deciding on our career paths, a conversation with the mother of a friend of mine — a friend who comes from a well-known political family in Lagos. We had no interest in politics or the civil service, and she said to us, “What is wrong with you boys? Don’t you know that in this country, if you want to be fantastically rich, you cannot but have some association with government or with politics?” That has become received wisdom in Nigeria. But let us be clear about what that wisdom actually means. It is just a euphemism. When people tell you that to be fantastically rich you must be affiliated with politics or government, what they are really saying is: you have to be part of the corruption. The scales are skewed in such a way that to get along, you must be part of it. This has always been so. And it remains so — which is exactly what should continue to worry those of us who want to keep ourselves undefiled in this fallen world.
Second, there is the deeper spiritual question buried in Giwa’s defense. He essentially asked, “Why would anybody expect me to go against the grain? If I criticized the government and got punished for it, would you then feed my family?” Now, I am not saying everybody must be a politician or an activist. Not everybody is called to that. You can be a Christian in business, doing well in your little corner, content with what you have, living to witness to the glory of God. You need not be a politician. But the idea that “I will never go against the grain because who will feed me if I suffer for telling the truth?” — that is a posture every Christian must examine.
This connects to an expression I have heard often: “We must live.” If you search it, you will find it functions almost as a philosophical byword — we have to do whatever it takes to survive. When people discuss the incongruities, the imperfections, even the outright corruption in the system, they often shrug and say, “Look, we must live.” Giwa’s version is, “My children, my business, my future, my empire.” It is the same sentiment.
I was listening to a sermon recently in which the preacher recounted a man who justified compromise by saying, “We must live.” And the preacher responded with two simple words: “Must we?” When I heard that, I said to myself — Femi, are you saying we should be ready to walk away rather than be part of the rot? Not “live” in the sense of life and death, of course, but in the sense that the things which flow to us from corrupt activities must be received — must they? Can we not sacrifice them?
This reminds me of a senior advocate of Nigeria I worked with early in my career — a man I deeply respect. He is a Muslim, but he is reputed throughout the profession as a man of sterling character and integrity. In those days there were rumors that some in-house legal departments would only give briefs to lawyers who agreed to certain relationships or under-the-table arrangements. And this senior advocate would tell us plainly: if it ever becomes impossible to run this firm without doing those unethical things, then we will close down the firm. Many of us thought to ourselves, “It’s easy for you to say — you come from a fantastically rich Lagos family; you could simply relocate to the UK or the US.” But reflecting on it now, I see that it spoke to the man’s sterling character. He is one of those people I always pray for — that one day he will come to see the glorious light of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
So the point is this: it is not for a Christian to say, “These things are bad, but we must live.” The question the Christian must confront is, “Must we?” Because we must not — especially when it concerns our souls, our allegiance to God, our allegiance to Christ. Jesus himself asked, “What will a man give in exchange for his soul?” I do not want anybody on the Lord’s side ever to say, “I had to sell my conscience, my soul, my Christian principle, because we must live.” Must we? These are not easy decisions. When economic pain and financial consequences are involved, they become genuinely difficult. But the Holy Spirit will ask us, “Must we?” And I pray God gives us grace not to be numbered among those who profit from a broken system.
Third — and this is the most chilling part — Giwa says he is banking on Nigeria not getting better. The truth is, many people are. There are people, and businesses deliberately structured, to profit from the endemic corruption and the imperfections in our system; the longer the rot endures, the wealthier they become. Some businesses become more profitable precisely so long as Nigeria does not get electricity right, so long as the contracting system stays broken, so long as the shenanigans continue. Keji Giwa has merely said the quiet part out loud — the thing that is usually thought but not verbalized.
This is where we must remind ourselves: we must never be in a situation where we are beneficiaries of an ungodly system, reveling in it and celebrating it. It simply cannot be. The Bible tells us that whatever things are noble, whatever things are of good report, those are the things we strive for — meaning the things that are not noble, not of good report, not praiseworthy, we do not seek after. And there is a real danger here: if you put yourself in the position of profiting from a decadent system that godly people are praying to see changed, then when God brings about that change, you risk being swept away by it. You do not want to be on the side that millions of innocent, godly people are praying against.
So, Mr. Keji Giwa — we have no animosity toward you. But it is our duty to tell you plainly: that is not where God’s people stand. We are not in the camp of those who say, “I’m banking on Nigeria not getting better.” We are trusting God to make Nigeria better. We are all in this world, all in Vanity Fair, and yes, in a sense we must live — we have to eat and drink. But in living, we must not kill our souls. He who would keep his life in this world will lose it. What will a man give in exchange for his soul? That is a question that should haunt every one of us as we make our decisions, one way or the other.
ON THE CLAIM THAT THE OYO KIDNAPPING WAS “ORCHESTRATED”
Another story has me worried. There is a statement now credited to a former governor of Ekiti State — and remember, Ekiti, like Oyo where the Ogumoshaw kidnapping occurred, is in the southwest. We have said over and over on this program that what makes that attack so deeply disturbing is that it proves the insecurity, banditry, kidnapping, and terrorism long associated with northern Nigeria has now firmly arrived in the south, exactly as many people had warned.
Now this former governor, Mr. Ayo Fayose — who happens to be an ally of President Bola Tinubu — is quoted as saying he “can believe” that the Oyo State government orchestrated the school children’s abduction in order to blackmail T