Pastor Abel Damina, founder of Power City International, has challenged the widely held belief in many Nigerian churches that tithing leads to financial prosperity. In a video circulated on X by user #ChuksEricE on Monday, Damina argued there is no biblical basis for the claim that giving to God guarantees wealth. He dismissed the idea as unscriptural and misleading, saying it manipulates worshippers into equating financial success with monetary contributions to religious leaders and institutions. "There's no scripture in the Bible that says when you give to God, you'll be a rich person. Nobody prospers by giving. When you give, you lack," he stated.
Damina illustrated his point with an account of a man who donated all three of his cars to his church expecting a financial breakthrough but ended up walking everywhere. The man later admitted he was considering reclaiming one of the vehicles. The pastor stressed that wealth comes from education, work, and business, not religious giving. He said he has never seen anyone become a billionaire simply by tithing, attributing such success to jobs and enterprise. Damina emphasized that God's blessings are not transactional but embedded in natural resources like oil, gold, and diamonds found in Nigeria. He urged people to pursue knowledge and effort to unlock these resources commercially.
Abel Damina's rejection of tithing as a wealth strategy cuts through a lucrative performance that passes for theology in many Nigerian megachurches. By naming the false cause-and-effect between giving and prosperity, he undermines the financial engine of pastors who position themselves as divine conduits to wealth. The story of the man who gave away all three cars and was left trekking lays bare the human cost of sermons built on economic fantasy rather than scriptural truth.
This moment is significant because it exposes the collision between faith and financial desperation in Nigeria's socio-economic reality. With unemployment high and social services failing, many turn to churches promising miracles through money. Damina's critique hits hard because it comes from within the pulpit, not outside it. His insistence that oil, gold, and diamonds exist not as rewards for giving but as resources to be unlocked through education shifts the narrative from passive waiting to active investment in knowledge and skill.
For ordinary Nigerians, especially low-income worshippers pressured to give beyond their means, Damina's words could mean a recalibration of priorities. Those who have mortgaged their survival on the promise of supernatural returns may begin to see education and work as more reliable paths to security.
This is not an isolated theological debate. It reflects a growing unease with the commercialisation of Nigerian Christianity, where pastors live in luxury while followers sacrifice basic needs. A pattern has emerged: prosperity gospel thrives not because it works, but because it sells hope in times of collapse.
