–– Lennox Kalifungwa
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What would you do if embracing Christianity demanded the death of a cherished cultural tradition? Though posed as hypothetical, this is a pressing question that every Christian, sooner or later, must confront.
In the wake of British and European colonial withdrawal, many African nations turned enthusiastically to postcolonialism—a postmodern creed animated less by a hunger for self-determination than by a visceral loathing of Western thought and custom. What followed was an era obsessed with the preservation of all things deemed authentically African. In the fevered rush to cast off colonial vestiges, Africans began re-engineering every corner of their cultural landscape—from attire and rituals to language, politics, and ceremonial pomp.
Consider the national flags fluttering across Africa. A shared palette—reds, greens, blacks, and yellows—reveals not merely a common colonial past but a common philosophical inheritance, one steeped in secular humanism, Marxism, Communism and Socialism. These ideologies, often wrapped in the romantic language of pan-Africanism, have been zealously adopted under the banner of liberation. Every flag has a meaning, and many would do well to investigate what those colours truly signal. The rhetoric surrounding them may sound noble—freedom, unity, self-determination—but such language masks deeper ideological loyalties.
What unites these ideologies is a visceral hostility to Christianity. For any of them to thrive, they must first discard the notion of a transcendent God who exists, has revealed Himself, and has spoken. The claim that “Christianity is a white man’s religion” serves as a rhetorical bludgeon: it vilifies ‘whiteness’, undermines Western intellectual influence, and provides a convenient excuse to reject any moral authority that might disrupt man’s preferred delusions.
In addition to the embrace of Marxist-flavoured political ideologies, there was a renewed zeal for animism—seen as a purer, untainted alternative to Western-influenced religion. African Traditional Religion, rooted in witchcraft and ancestral veneration, was no longer something to be practised in private with a hint of embarrassment; it was thrust into the open, championed as a badge of cultural authenticity. Yet one uncomfortable truth remains: every culture, whether it admits it or not, is built upon worship—of someone or something.
This presents a dilemma for many professing African Christians who, while rejecting the overt liturgy of paganism, still cling to cultural practices born of false religions. The list is long and revealing: bridal price rituals laced with superstition, distorted teachings on premarital sex, matriarchal social structures, sycophantic appeasement of elders, and fear-driven interpretations of misfortune. These are not mere customs—they are theological declarations. Yet those who dare challenge them are swiftly dismissed as “colonised minds”, accused of imposing Western tastes on African soil. To this, every enemy of Christ and ally of postmodernism offers a hearty amen.
It is perhaps understandable that pastors and foreign missionaries often tread lightly, wary of being seen as cultural imperialists. Yet in proclaiming and applying the Word of God with fidelity, they inevitably do the very thing they fear: they reshape culture—and rightly so. Those who recognise this should not shrink from application.
When confronting a culture steeped in idolatry, diplomatic overtures and genteel appeasement merely pave the way for syncretism—and with it, deeper bondage. In such a context, righteous disruption is not optional; it is essential. Reform demands the courage to shatter the polite fictions of a godless society.
This is, at heart, a crisis of identity. Too many see themselves first as members of an ethnic tribe rather than as citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven, called to serve as ambassadors in the nations where God has providentially placed them. The Christian’s first and highest allegiance is to God, not to ancestry, tribe, or tradition. The fear of dishonouring Him should far outweigh any anxiety over the loss of so-called African culture.
Christians must trust that full submission to Christ is not only faithful, but also best for Africa. The mandate is clear: to exalt His holy name and extend His Kingdom. When the choice is between preserving cultural heritage or obeying Christ, the latter alone leads to true human flourishing; the former, inevitably, to ruin.
The uncomfortable truth is that some cultures do, in fact, need to die. No culture is neutral; it either honours God or defies Him. Christians are not called to be curators of compromised traditions but architects of cultures that glorify God. This does not entail the erasure of distinction—Africa will not become Asia, nor Europe Africa—but it does mean there will be profound overlap.
Those who worship the living God in spirit and in truth will inevitably cultivate a culture that is distinct from those who do not. Indeed, believers across nations will share more in common with one another than with their unconverted kin. The Christian’s petition is not for cultural preservation but for God’s Kingdom to come and His will to be done, on earth as it is in heaven.