By Badagry Today ( Inspired by a Facebook post by Okulaja Olawale Kehinde ) Once upon a time in Badagry, the rhythmic hum of machines fille...
Once upon a time in Badagry, the rhythmic hum of machines filled the air at the Femstar Nigeria Bottling Company, producers of Limca, Goldspot, and Parle Soda. It was more than a factory, it was a heartbeat. It powered families, built dreams, and gave thousands of young people a reason to stay hopeful. Today, that same site, which once symbolized productivity, now echoes with hymns and hallelujahs. The building that once bottled refreshment for Nigeria now bottles faith.
In a thought-provoking Facebook essay titled “From Factory to Church: The Economic Tragedy of Industrial Conversion in Africa,” writer and social critic Okulaja Olawale Kehinde paints a painful picture of what he calls one of Africa’s most overlooked tragedies, the steady transformation of once-bustling factories into churches and event centers. And the case of the defunct Limca bottling plant in Ibereko, Badagry, stands as one of the most striking examples.
For decades, the Limca factory was a lifeline for Badagry’s working class. It employed hundreds directly, supported suppliers, transporters, and local traders indirectly, and gave the town a sense of industrial pride. When the company folded, it wasn’t just a building that shut down, an entire economic ecosystem collapsed.
Kehinde’s argument is brutally honest: “When a factory dies and becomes a church, the community moves from production to dependence.” Factories generate value, they turn raw materials into finished goods, create jobs, and fuel innovation. Churches, on the other hand, as Kehinde carefully notes, while offering vital spiritual support, do not replace the economic productivity that industries sustain.
Across Africa, this disturbing trend repeats itself. Industrial estates turn into worship centers. Warehouses become crusade halls. Office complexes are repurposed for prayer meetings. While religion continues to grow, productivity steadily shrinks.
The irony isn’t lost on Kehinde. “Worship without work,” he writes, “is a dangerous path to national poverty.” And indeed, the message strikes at the core of Africa’s struggle, the imbalance between spirituality and economic sense.
In the developed world, when industries falter, governments intervene with bailout funds, retraining programs, or incentives for investors to revive production. But in much of Africa, factories are simply allowed to rot, or worse, auctioned off to religious organizations.
Kehinde’s essay doesn’t just lament; it offers a roadmap. He calls for industrial protection laws, public-private partnerships, and national recovery funds to revive struggling factories. More importantly, he challenges African governments to regulate the conversion of industrial lands into non-productive uses.
It’s a tough truth many policymakers avoid: spirituality cannot replace structural economics. A praying nation still needs a working class. A worshipful society still needs industries that manufacture, export, and employ.
For the people of Badagry, the transformation of the Limca plant is more than just a local loss, it’s a symbol of what happens when nations neglect production. What once sustained families now sustains faith; what once produced goods now produces sermons.
Kehinde’s essay, though deeply reflective, carries a challenge that resonates beyond Badagry: Africa must choose between the comfort of devotion and the discipline of development.
If nothing changes, future generations may grow up knowing more about church crusades than assembly lines, and more about offerings than operations.
No one is suggesting that faith is the problem. Religion uplifts the soul and unites communities. But when industries collapse while churches multiply, it’s a symptom of imbalance. As Kehinde rightly argues, “A nation that prays without producing will forever depend on imports, aid, and foreign goodwill.”
The story of the Limca factory is not just about one town or one company, it’s a mirror reflecting Africa’s misplaced economic priorities.
Factories represent hope, innovation, and self-reliance. Churches represent faith and community. The two can coexist, but when one replaces the other, the continent loses its balance.
Africa’s future cannot be built on prayer alone. It must rest on productivity, creativity, and industrial rebirth. Every abandoned factory turned into a church should remind us not of divine progress, but of economic failure.
As Okulaja Olawale Kehinde so poignantly warns, “A nation that keeps converting its factories into churches is not building heaven, it is burying its future.”
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