The people with iron skin: protective charms, traditional religion, and vigilante authority in Lagos, Nigeria

ABSTRACT

This article explores the use of protective charms among the Vigilante Group of Nigeria (VGN) in the megacity of Lagos. The use of charms, which vigilantes refer to as African traditional security methods, involves the deployment of amulets to protect the human body from bullets (Ayeta) and sharp forces (Okigbe) as well as for use in territorial fortification, crime investigations, interrogation, and punishment. Informed by the new materialist notion of actor-network theory, I analyse how in the setting of the VGN’s oath-taking ritual performances, vigilante subjects, priests, charmed objects, and traditional deities have formed a dynamic relational network. I argue that the configurations of this relational network have redefined vigilantes’ security practices and generated new social relations with their communities, which reinforce and consolidate their authority. This article also examines how some VGN leaders articulate the discourses of Africanisation and heritagization to explicate their adoption of charm practices. I suggest that the aforementioned discourses are conscious strategies employed to ease the tension that arises from the mixture of security practices with elements of traditional religion by VGN members, most of whom are adherents of institutionalised Islam and Christianity.

Introduction

One Sunday evening, I was sitting on a bench outside the office of the Vigilante Group of Nigeria (VGN) in the suburb (Agege) of Lagos, engaging in casual conversation with the area commander.¹ The conversation shifted to the supernatural powers that vigilantes deploy in their security activities. The commander told me a story about how some armed robbers had attacked him while he was on a night patrol. He stated the following:

They shot me, but the bullet failed to penetrate my body; then, they stroked me with a sharp dagger, but still, my body remained impervious to it. The robbers became scared and ran away. I acquired this power of body protection and fighting crimes through what we call the African traditional security method, which is our heritage that we sourced from the religion of our forefathers.

Two women, chatting close by with their children playing around them, chipped in by remarking that what the commander was telling me was true. One of the women stated the following:

These vigilantes are special people; we respect and trust them. They are courageous in protecting us from bad guys because they are protected with special powers. Before the arrival of vigilantes, we were in constant fear of crime and criminals, but now we are much safer.

During my regular visits to the Agege VGN office, as part of my participant observation, the commander introduced me to various people, including traditional leaders (kabesi), who are patrons of the VGN. Most of these people reiterated that vigilantes are unique because they possess supernatural powers to fight crime, powers which they source from the Yoruba traditional religion. The Yoruba are one of the three largest ethnic groups in Nigeria and are concentrated in the southwestern part of the country.

A couple of important themes can be discerned from this vignette. First, the remarks of the area commander indicate the centrality of charms in the vigilantes’ security operations. Second, the charms are sourced from the Yoruba traditional religion. Third, although the charms originate from Yoruba traditions, they are associated with the labels of Africanisation and heritagization. Finally, charms have become part of the vigilantes’ identity, leading to them being perceived as unique people with iron skin – a perception that enhances people’s trust in them as courageous protectors of their communities. These factors combined to lend authority to the VGN.

This article aims to explore how the Yoruba traditional religion, through the use of protective charms, plays a crucial role in reaffirming and consolidating vigilantes’ legitimacy and authority.

Over the past two decades, extensive research has been conducted on various aspects of vigilante groups in all regions of Nigeria (Akinyele 2001; Harnischfeger 2003; Higazi 2008; McCall 2004; Meagher 2007; Nolte 2007; D. J. Smith 2004). However, inadequate attention has been paid to the role of traditional religious elements, such as charms, amulets, and oath-taking rituals, in constructing vigilantes’ legitimacy and authority. In this article, I analyse the use of protective charms and oath-taking within the framework of actor-network theory (ANT). Informed by this approach, I highlight how vigilante subjects, charm objects, priests, and the presence of traditional deities, during the oath-taking ritual performances have formed a dynamic relational network. The configurations of this relational network have redefined vigilantes’ security practices and generated new social relations with their communities, thereby reaffirming their authority. It is essential to note that tension inevitably arises in the use of protective charms, which are rooted in the traditional religion since the vast majority of the vigilantes are ether Muslim or Christian, it is essential to note that tension inevitably arises over the use of protectives charms because they are rooted in traditional religion. Therefore, I pay attention to how some VGN leaders frame their use of charms, amulets, and related practices to ameliorate said tension (Thouki 2022).

In the first section, I briefly discuss the concepts of authority and the notion of the material turn in the study of religion. Within this framework I adopted the approach of new materialism to analyse vigilantes’ engagement with charms and religious objects. The second section introduces the VGN and the organisation’s activities in Lagos. The third section examines how protective charms intersect with the traditional Yoruba religion, mainly through the oath-taking ritual. The section also describes how elements of traditional religion are recast in the discourses of Africanisation, and heritagization. The fourth section discusses factors such as magic and semiotics of guns and anti-gun charms, as well as the issues of the ecological purity of the sources of charms and the performance of secrecy. These factors added mystery and enchantment to charms that further reinvigorate vigilantes’ authority. In conclusion, I highlight how these factors combined to enhance and consolidate authority of the VGN.

Authority of the VGN, material religion, and new materialism

Authority is the cornerstone of the vigilantes’ operations and security governance. Their authority empowers them to arrest and punish offenders and adjudicate civil cases in their communities. The notion of authority is a longstanding subject of interest to scholars. According to Weber (2014), authority is a form of power that is partly predicated on voluntary submission, underlined by genuine acceptance or ulterior motives. In Weber’s view, to be sustained and validated over time, authority requires sources of legitimacy. According to Bernstein (2011), Arendt focused on the differences between authority, power, and violence. While Weber granted some level of power in authority, Arendt reiterated that authority dissolves when applying external coercive power. To Arendt, authority legitimises the political power that arises from the belief in a source that transcends the political sphere. The law of nature or the commands of God are often appealed to, and reified as sources of legitimacy. In this paper, I focus on the embodied form of authority that diverges from a belief in transcendence, instead stemming from a network of relationships that involve configurations of a material and immaterial assemblage (Jauregui 2019).

Over the last three decades, academic interest in African vigilantism has significantly increased, and scholars have identified various sources of vigilante authority. A growing body of literature locates vigilante authority within various forms of contradictions regarding what constitutes the moral order, crime, and punishment in interactions between a modern state and local communities. According to this view, vigilantes acquire authority as they offer an alternative moral order that results in the formation of new moral communities (Buur and Jensen 2004; R. N. Smith 2015). In this vein, the logic of the modern state frequently conflicts with the underlying moral grounds that inform communities’ understanding of crime, security, and punishment. Therefore, vigilantes have acquired legitimacy and authority because their practices are anchored in the moral underpinnings of local communities. Despite the relevance of this framework, it fails to account for the role of religion and religious objects in producing and consolidating vigilantes’ authority.

Other studies have considered vigilantes’ authority to stem from an attempt to fill a vacuum of leadership and security left by a weak and receding state at the local level. This vacuum has often led to the emergence of plural policing practices, which have institutionalised and legitimised various vigilante groups (Bagayoko, Hutchful, and Luckham 2016; Baker 2002; Lar 2018). In this context, vigilantes’ power and authority hinge on their capacity to fill the power vacuum left by the state in local communities. This framework is connected with the neighbouring concepts of hybridity (Albrecht 2012; Bagayoko, Hutchful, and Luckham 2016), state failure (Candy 2012; Harnischfeger 2003; Sen 2012), and sovereignty (Kirsch and Grätz 2010; Kivland 2012). When combined, these views illuminate how the state’s failure to effectively ‘monopolize the means of legitimate violence’ (Weber 2015) necessitates the sharing of security governance with local nonstate security actors. These authors show that this notion of ‘sharing’ is rather complex and often entails a simultaneous combination of competition and collaboration.

In various parts of Africa, vigilante groups and the use of charms or traditional medicine often intersect, reflecting a complex blend of cultural, social, and historical factors. Several scholars indicate that members of vigilante groups deploy charms or amulets for protection from harm or to enhance their perceived abilities. Many scholars highlight that the use of charms can also have psychological effects, instilling confidence or a sense of invincibility among members. The use of charms which often conflate traditional religion bears relation to vigilante legitimacy (Allen 2015; Hagberg 2019; Pratten 2008).

There are spectrums of vigilante groups in Nigeria that are shaped by a variety of ecological landscapes and historical contexts. Scholars have already delineated how the everyday policing of vigilante groups intersects with the deployment of religion and practices of charms and the occult. This is notable among groups such as Bakassi Boys (Baker 2002; Pratten 2008; D. J. Smith 2004), and Oodua Peoples’ Congress (OPC) (Nolte 2007; 2008). Other scholars have discussed the intermingling of Islam and vigilante activities of the Hisba Shariah police in northern Nigeria (Adamu 2008; Last 2008). Many studies analyse how the advent of Boko Haram led to the formation of various vigilante groups that deployed the use of charms in their struggle against the insurgents (Agbiboa 2021; Al Chukwuma 2017; Monday and Okpanachi 2019). This article will contribute to this conversation by providing a fresh perspective of the Vigilante Group of Nigeria (VGN) in Lagos given the importance of this group in the Nigerian vigilante landscape. The article aims to contribute to this conversation by highlighting the role of traditional religious elements in local security practices that have led to the reinforcement and consolidation of vigilantes’ authority in Lagos.

The advent of the material turn in academic inquiry was a paradigm shift that radically transformed how scholars perceive the roles of things and objects in human society. The material turn, one of the most critical turns of the nineties, refers to a theoretical stream that focuses on objects, spaces, artefacts, technologies, instruments, and bodies and their relationships with practices (Carlile et al. 2013). The material turn is overwhelmingly typified by postdiscursive stances and the entanglement of material and social elements in practices (Orlikowski 2007). Various humanities and social science disciplines have adopted the paradigm of the material turn in its varied manifestations.

Moreover, scholars of religion (Keane 2008; Meyer 2011; Morgan 2010; Vasquez 2011), exasperated with the overwhelming focus on belief, creeds, and dogmas in their field, have adopted this approach and ushered in the discipline of material religion. A focus on material religion aims to correct the longstanding bias against materiality in the field and restore attention to the vital roles of objects, spaces, and embodied practices in the practice of religion. Jones (2016) opined that material religion, for the most part, essentially encompasses a rejection of the interiority, ideality, and stress on transcendence in favour of exteriority, materiality, and immanence in the study of religion. It is essential to note that scholars of religion have approached material religion from different perspectives and using various methodologies. Hazard (2013) classified these perspectives and methodologies as semiotic (religious objects as signs that require interpretation), material discipline (object and practices as applicators of power that shape subjectivities), and phenomenology (the examination of objects through the lens of embodied experience). However, Hazard (2013) critiqued these approaches as excessively anthropocentric as they privilege human subjects over religious objects. She called for scholars of religion to pay attention to new materialism, which restores agency and dynamism to matter. Similarly, other scholars have lamented the dearth of studies on the new materialist analyses of religion and called for the rejection of anthropocentric bias in the study of religion (Bräunlein 2016; Ioannides 2013; Jones 2016).

This paper contributes to the field of material religion by analysing some elements of religion within the purview of actor-network-theory (ANT). ANT posits that everything in the social and natural world exists as a series of continuously changing and shifting networks of relationships. Objects, ideas, and processes are regarded as equally crucial as humans in forming social situations. The actor-network theory avoids oversimplified assumptions about the function of objects in producing social realities. Instead of seeing them as passive containers of information, objects are regarded as active agents whose roles are dictated by their position in the ever-shifting network of relationships (Law and Hassard 1999). An actor (actant) refers to anything that acts in a given system or to which activity is granted by others and formed to create clusters of both material and semiotic meanings (Latour 2005). Despite its popularity as a tool for analysis, ANT has been criticised for ascribing agency and intentionality to things and objects as well as for regarding humans as quasi-subjects and nonhumans as quasi-objects (Jackson 2015). However, advocates of ANT argue that agency is found in the heterogeneous associations of humans and nonhumans rather than in the human subjects or nonhuman objects (Muniesa 2015).

Drawing from ANT, I analyse how the configurations of humans and nonhuman objects in the setting of the VGN’s oath-taking rituals constitute actants that engage in a network of relationships that activate and power vigilantes’ charms. The actants in this network are the priests who preside over the rituals; the vigilante subjects who take the oath; the deities who sanction the oath; and the charm objects that are consecrated and activated through the rituals. In this regard the network of the aforementioned four actants generates a new social relationship between vigilantes and their communities, thereby reaffirming and consolidating their authority. I suggest that the configurations of these actants in a network activate their agency and make them dynamic agents with a range of personal and social effects.

In this vein, I suggest understanding this quadrilateral network within the framework of Latourian relationality. Latour (2005) suggested that objects and humans are placed in a network without the normative divide of nature and culture, thus removing the nature-culture divide.

The consolidation of authority is reinforced by the enchanting power of charms, which further enchant vigilantes’ bodies by making them impregnable to arms. I also highlight how vigilante subjectivities are shaped and transformed through physical and cognitive relationships between them and charm objects, deities, and priests. Therefore, I argue that the Yoruba traditional religion, through protective charms and oath-taking rituals, plays a crucial role in consolidating the authority of vigilantes. This analysis contributes to a deeper understanding of the role of religion in the production of vigilante authority.

The vigilante group of Nigeria

The VGN is a well-organised, non-profit security organisation with a sophisticated bureaucratic administration. It is run and led mostly by retired civil servants and paramilitary officers. The VGN was officially registered in February 1999 with the Nigerian Corporate Affairs Commission (Lar 2018). Before 2000, the VGN’s organisational structure was decentralised and state branches independently ran their affairs. When the VGN was registered with the government, a central unit was created to coordinate the affairs of the organisation at the national level. The VGN’s national headquarters were relocated from Kaduna to Abuja in 2011. This move brought the VGN closer to the seats of power, making it easier to lobby and advocate for their interests. However, funding for the group continues to be sourced from the local level. The VGN’s administrative organisation is divided into four levels, namely national, regional, state, and local government. Furthermore, the VGN has several departments, which include community policing, finance, administration, training, logistics, intelligence, anti-human trafficking, and government relations. These administrative divisions vary slightly across the different states of the federation.

As a grassroots security organisation, the VGN is recognised by the state and is authorised to work in tandem with the police. However, the VGN is not allowed to prosecute or punish offenders but rather to intervene, stop offences, and take offenders to the police. Moreover, VGN members participate in police patrols and special operations, such as anti-robbery and anti-kidnapping operations. Many vigilantes told me that during operations they are usually at the forefront due to their self-confidence and courage. Because of this collaboration with the police, vigilantes are involved in a variety of activities, particularly intelligence gathering, traffic control, and access control through the manning of checkpoints.

The Lagos State chapter is one of the largest state branches of the VGN in the country (See Figure 1, senior staff meeting at the Lagos headquarters in Ijeja Local Government). This is because Lagos is the largest city in Nigeria and the second-most populous city in Africa. The megalopolis has a population of approximately 15.3 million within the city proper and approximately 23.5 million in the metropolitan area (Nations Online Project 2021). The inequality along with extreme poverty, sprawling informal settlements, and weak investment in internal security by the government has created a fertile breeding ground for crime and criminal gangs. The social ecology of crime expands at the most desperate urban margins, leading to drug abuse, petty theft, extortion, and serious crimes, such as armed robbery and kidnapping. In this environment, the work of vigilantes goes beyond security provision to an array of services for local communities. Vigilantes settle disputes between neighbours; resolve issues related to domestic violence, public sanitation, public road repair, and drainage; and discipline delinquent children. Vigilantes also tackle witchcraft and the occult, which they claim police have no expertise in handling.²

Figure 1.

The VGN headquarter at Ikeja LGC, Lagos. Source: Ibrahim Murtala.

The VGN’s formal authority is embodied and symbolised in numerous material paraphernalia, such as uniforms, logos, handcuffs, communication devices, light arms, shock guns, and CS spray (teargas in a canister). The official uniform of the VGN is made from brown khaki fabric, which members wear during office hours and on ceremonial occasions with black ankle boots and a cap. The VGN uniform is recognised by communities as a symbol of security agents who are more trustworthy than the state police, who wear black uniforms. The uniform is a visual expression of the VGN’s identity and ‘the principal symbolic marker of stateness, the instinctive symbol of officiousness and a signifier or insignia of authority’ (Lar 2018, 14). Vigilantes in uniform have the power and authority to intervene and settle disputes in the public space or to regulate traffic to disentangle and unblock gridlocked traffic. Fokwang (2015) opined that those uniforms draw attention to a visual and material practice that has the potential to regulate or disrupt civil society. Because of military and police coercion in the public space, Nigerians tend to treat men in uniform with caution and fear, and uniforms are highly regarded as emblems of power and masculinity. The VGN uniform and the structure of hierarchical symbols that it contains are indicative of the profound influence of the army and the police on the organisation (Lar 2018).

Other security tools of the police that vigilantes are allowed to use are handcuffs, tasers, and CS spray. Handcuffs are restraints used to hold a person’s wrists close to each other. Once locked, they cannot be removed without expert knowledge, and the wrists of the restrained person cannot be moved more than a few inches or centimetres apart. Tasers are electroshock weapons used to briefly incapacitate and debilitate targets so that they can be approached and handled without resistance. CS spray is teargas in a small canister that vigilantes use against defiant suspects. When a target is exposed to the spray, he or she will feel a burning sensation and tear up uncontrollably. The spray causes pain in the mucous membranes of the nose, mouth, and throat, resulting in excessive coughing, disorientation, and difficulty breathing, thereby rendering the subject partially incapacitated. Vigilantes deploy these devices to subdue defiant criminals and suspects. These devices have a serious impact on different parts of the body, either by denying the hands the ability to move effectively, temporarily impairing one’s vision, or paralysing the body. These gadgets enhance the coercive power of vigilantes and reinforce their authority in the public domain.

While vigilantes always carry these modern technological devices (i.e. handcuffs, taser stun gun, and CS spray, see Figure 2), they simultaneously claim to possess charms, namely objects that perform remarkably similar functions for incapacitating and neutralising threats from defiant suspects. While the gadgets appear visibly on the uniforms of vigilantes, the charms and amulets are concealed beneath their clothes.

Figure 2.

VGN security gadgets at the Oshodi LGC office. Source: Ibrahim Murtala.

Traditional religion, charms, and vigilantes’ security practice

During my fieldwork among the VGN members of Lagos, it became apparent that most of them use charms and amulets. The most important charms can be categorised into three uses. The first concerns personal protection, which includes anti-gun and anti-sharp weapons charms. The second involves securing territory. The third are charms that serve as instruments of crime investigation, and punishment. Since security provision in Lagos involves the risk of reprisal attacks by criminal gangs, vigilantes overwhelmingly resort to charms for personal protection. These charms come in different shapes and forms and are used and administered in a variety of ways. In some instances, a potion of herbs and animal parts is sewn into elongated leather straps and concealed in a trouser waistband or belt, which is usually covered by loose clothes (See Figure 3). Other charms are concoctions of plants and roots that are ritually brewed in water and drunk. Some other preparations are inserted into the body through an incision. VGN members believe that most protective amulets, charms, and mascots must be hidden and worn against the body to have any effect.

Figure 3.

Anti-guns and anti-blade charms. Source: Ibrahim Murtala.

A thin line exists between traditional religion, magic, and herbal medicine among the Yoruba people. For this reason, the division of labour between priests, medicine men, native doctors, diviners, and magicians is not clear-cut, particularly in contemporary times. Many Yoruba people believe in mysterious powers and forces that underpin magic, medicine, and the entire natural world. Magic for the purpose of self-protection cause can be considered part of religion, and priests can perform such magic.³ However, a sorcerer is believed to use mysterious powers (called oogun ika or oogun ibi) to manipulate nature to cause afflictions and problems, such as sickness, untimely death, crop failures, and bad omens. Medicine (Oogun) can be related to religion as well as good magic and is based on knowledge of the healing properties of various plants and other natural objects. These healing properties are predicated on supernatural forces called oogun, egbogi, or isegun. Traditional healers, herbalists, or onisegu diagnose and prescribe medicine for all kinds of diseases and afflictions with either natural or spiritual origins (Dopamu 1993). Priests known as aworo or iworo are devotees of divinities (orisa) who lead and administer rituals. The Babalawo is a diviner who became the father of secrets due to his potent sensitivity and deep expertise in spiritual powers. Followers believe that he can see into the past, present, and future to unravel complicated problems and provide solutions (Imasogie 1986).

The VGN in Lagos has a special unit called the ‘Department for Traditional Religion’, which deals with the handling and distribution of charms and oath-taking rituals. There are also departments for Islam and Christianity, but their activities involve only security provision during important religious gatherings and festivals, such as Friday prayers, Sunday worship, Eid, Maulud, Christmas, and Easter. In this sense, traditional religion plays a more prominent role in terms of its presence in the core security activities of the VGN. Some area commandants of the VGN in Lagos are practitioners, priests, or stewards of Yoruba traditional religion. One of these commandants, Alabi, is currently the high priest of his local government area. He told me that he is originally from Ijebu land in Ogun State.⁴ His grandfather was a traditional religious priest in their village, but his father converted to Islam. Alabi stated that even though he was born in a Muslim home, he decided to revert to traditional religion. When I asked him whether his present position as an overall priest of an entire local government was due to his familial lineage, he responded negatively. Alabi stated that he had earned his position through hard work, dedication, and integrity, rising gradually through the hierarchy of the shrine to the level of high priest. Apart from being a priest, Alabi is also an herbalist with extensive knowledge of herbs and charms. Such priests usually head the section of traditional religion and preside over the swearing of oaths and charm distribution.

Among the vigilantes, charms are sourced from the traditional religion, and most Muslims and Christians find a means of rationalising their involvement in the practice. Alabi stated that whenever he ventures into the forest to gather plants and roots for the preparation of charms, he begins with a prayer. Once charms are prepared in the right way and become charged, they can be used for good or bad. Although the power of charms comes from God, humans have freedom to choose how to use them. If one deploys a charm for good, as in the case of security provision, one will reap great rewards from God. On the other hand, if one applies charms for evil, it is believed that there will be swift and immediate judgement.

Personal protection charms are believed to make the body impenetrable to bullets or sharp weapons made from metal, such as daggers, machetes, cutlasses, or axes. Other protective charms are believed to shield vigilantes from any form of danger in their vicinity. Most vigilante operational commanders narrated stories of how their charms had saved them from deadly gunshots or serious injuries from sharp metal weapons. One operational commander stated that during the End SARS riots of 2020, criminal elements who harboured grudges against the VGN took advantage of the anarchic situation to settle old scores.⁵ The deputy area commander of Agege Local Government Area (LGC) told me how he was attacked by a mob during the riots. He said that several people attacked him with knives, cutlasses, and daggers, but that his body remained impenetrable to sharp forces. When his attackers realised that he could not be injured by sharp metal weapons, they changed their strategy and used sharp glass to cut his head and neck. He said that his injuries were so serious that he spent several months in hospital. He lamented that the mobs succeeded against him because his charms only protected against bullets and metal, not against the glass.

Vigilantes deploy charms as a security apparatus in crime detection, interrogation, and punishment. These kinds of charms are believed to empower vigilantes to control a criminal by merely using speech. Criminals are believed to be rendered powerless and obey every command uttered by vigilantes. If they carry weapons, they will hand them over to the vigilantes without resistance. With these types of charms, vigilantes believe they can arrest criminals by commanding them to submit. Some charms are also believed to serve as lie detectors, enabling vigilantes to instantly know whether a suspect is telling the truth during interrogation. Other charms employ the power of touch to disarm criminals and make them obey commands without resistance. A VGN operation officer once narrated a story about some criminals who were hiding in the ceiling of a house they had attempted to rob. Police made multiple efforts to arrest them but without success. As a result, the officer was called in to arrest them. When he arrived at the scene, he used the power of his charms to command the criminals to come down and surrender. They instantly obeyed him and came down.

Vigilantes secure their communities not only through patrols but also through the power of charms. One vigilante commander told me that in the early days of the VGN in Lagos, around 1998, the area in which he lived was constantly threatened by thieves, armed robbers, and hoodlums. To secure his community, he travelled to his village and collected a powerful charm from his grandfather for territorial fortification. He said that the charm was a combination of certain plants and roots that he put in small bottles, burying them at different angles along the borders of his area. Any person who crossed that border intending to steal or commit a crime would instantly be ensnared by the spell of the charm and become hypnotised. He would be trapped within the confines of the border and start sweeping the street until morning when he would be identified and arrested by vigilantes.

The network of priest, rituals, charms, and deities

One of the most critical factors that established vigilantism in the domain of traditional religion is the practice of vigilantes swearing an oath before receiving protective charms. For an oath to be fully accomplished, it must incorporate specific ritual acts and ceremonial formulas that add to the weight of the oath declaration. According to Alabi, the oath is conducted in a ritual manner and setting, which involves the addresser or the oath-taker, the addressee or the priest, other participants, and the deities, who are the third party in control of the undertaking. The purpose of taking the oath is to ensure that vigilantes use the charms for good, not for evil or selfish practices. The oath is crafted in the manner of traditional religion. The oath-taker is asked to invoke the wrath of the gods upon them if they misuse the power of the charms given to them.

According to Alabi, vigilantes must take an oath in the presence of four deities—Sango, Sopona, Edan, and Ayelala—before they receive protective medicines. Sango is the god of thunder and lightning and is connected with justice and wrath upon wrongdoers. Sopona is the divinity in charge of smallpox disease, punishing offenders with smallpox. Edan is the divinity associated with longevity, health, victory, and prosperity. Ayelala is a water goddess who punishes various social vices, crimes, and witchcraft. She attacks her victims by inflicting bodily swelling on them. Noteworthily, these three deities have similar characteristics in terms of enacting severe corporal punishments. These embodied punishments come in the form of dreaded diseases that leave a mark on a body (e.g. smallpox and bodily swelling leave visible marks even after healing). While Edan gives good things such as a long life if he is pleased, he can deny such things to offenders.

During my stay in Lagos, I frequently visited the VGN office to observe their activities and interactions with the local community. The commander who I called Fatai narrated to me that he was a successful businessman in the northern city of Maiduguri city buying agricultural produce such as beans and transporting it to the south. He said the advent of Boko Haram and the terror they unleashed in the region, destroyed his business. While in Maiduguri he witnessed the heroic actions of vigilantes called the civilians task force (locally called Kato da Gora) against Boko Haram. What fascinated Fatai most about the vigilantes was the supernatural powers they seemed to wield in their encounters with the Boko Haram terrorists. When Fatai returned to Lagos due to his bankruptcy he decided to join the VGN group, which engaged in fighting endemic crime in the city. With financial assistance from relatives, he was able to raise money to buy a motorcycle and start a bike taxi or okada in local parlance. A bike taxi provides him with a means of livelihood while pursuing volunteer vigilante work.

Fatai invited me to witness a renewal ceremony of their bodily protective charms and the mandatory oath-taking ritual in the shrine. I was allowed to watch the ceremony from far behind. The ceremony was taking place at the office of Mr Alabi, the head of the VGN department for traditional religion. When I arrived at the office everything was set. About twenty vigilante members sat in a circle in the room. At the centre of the room, there were some statues of the deities of the Yoruba traditional religion as well as other religious objects. Before the oath-taking ritual began, the priest distributed new protective charms in the form of iron rings to all the vigilantes and asked them to wear them on their middle fingers. Charms that contain a variety of concoctions stitched in elongated animal skin were distributed to them to wear on their arms and loins. They were also given a brew of herbs in a gourd and each participant drank one after another. Then the priest assured them that as long as these charms were attached to their bodies, their skins would become as hardened as iron that will never be penetrated by any form of sharp metal.

The second session was the oath-taking rituals. The priest prayed over the deities for about 10 minutes and poured the libation of alcoholic spirit (Schnapps) on the deities. He asked each vigilante to declare their oath. One by one vigilantes uttered that they promised to use their acquired power only for self-defence, not for selfish reasons. They each call upon the wrath of the god iron, the god of thunder, and the god of smallpox to visit them with serious repercussions if they break their oaths. After the oath, the priest distributed the remaining Schnapps for each participant to drink. Afterwards, he stated:

The ritual process that you undergo connects your body with the power of the charms. It also connects you with the deities who are watching over you around the clock. I will also keep a constant watch on your behavior to see how you handle you’re your power. You are now bind yourself to the deities by sharing the alcoholic drink with them. Your medicine for sharp weapons and bullets has been renewed. Every violation will attract harsh and terrible consequences from the deities. You all know that the justice of the gods is swift and immediate.

When I asked the priest about the ingredients he used in the preparation of the charms, he replied that it was a secret that he was not ready to reveal to me. His response reminded me of the issue of ‘trade secrets’ in the business world. As business organisations protect their trade secret to make more profit, the priest also protects their knowledge of charms to preserve their privileges, respect, and power in the vigilante circles.

After the ritual was concluded, I asked one of the participants about his experiences. He responded as follows:

As the Abure (priest) stated, I feel connected with these charms and to the gods and the priest himself. I am now more self-confident and courageous enough to face the danger of violent criminals without fear. I feel strongly empowered, but at the same time, the ritual made me feel a great sense of responsibility with my renewed power. Criminals are afraid of us because they know we have powerful charms. One of the reasons people in our community respect and trust us is because of the charms we use to protect them.

As the above remarks indicated, the oath-taking ritual generates multiple forms of connections and relationships that can be placed and interpreted within the framework of the concept of ANT. Both Fatai and Alabi as well as many other vigilantes that I interviewed indicated the centrality of the connection and relationship they experienced with the charms and the deities in their everyday activities. The performance of the oath-swearing rituals orchestrates an initiation into the binding network of relationships between the subject (oath-taker), the priest, charm objects, and deities. In the same way that nature and culture are entangled ontologically, the distributed relationality within the network is indistinguishable. As one of the quadrilateral nodal points in the network, charms – once prepared, activated, and strapped on the waist or arm – automatically reconfigure the human body by enabling it to violate common intuitive ontological expectations. Charm objects are believed to achieve efficacy by exerting a force on the body that can affect its biochemical functions. One of my interlocutors, Ishola Jamiu, asserted the following: ’[W]hen my body becomes saturated with this brew of plants and roots, I feel the difference in my body. My perspiration becomes more acidic and causes my clothes to wear out easily’. Charms must be handled with the utmost care and caution to maintain their functionality and efficacy. The demand for constant vigilance creates an intense cognitive and practical relationship in the realm of vigilantes’ subjectivity.

The deities are important actants who are physically (through their statues) and ontologically present in the setting of ritual oath-taking. Through the power of the oath, the deities are bound both to the charms and the subjects. In this vein, the oath-taking by vigilantes is a kind of contract with a sacred or supernatural domain, which is beyond the temporal legal sphere and extends beyond the realm of ordinary justice (Ficquet 2020). As long as the charms are functioning, the deities watch over the behaviour of the subjects. Simultaneously, the subjects are conscious of the presence and scrutinising gaze of the gods.

For charms to continually function effectively on the bodies of vigilantes, they must be continuously taken care of due to their unstable nature. This is because all charms come with a stringent set of rules, and any infringement can impact their efficacy. Most charms are neutralised by eating boiled eggs or touching human corpses. When I asked my interlocutor the idea behind the rules, he responded that there are no particular rationales behind them or why particular substances are specified. He said the charms are handed to them from ancestors with rules but without an explanation of why the rules exist. Since there is an absence of empirical or extra-empirical reasons behind the existence of rules, I think it will be more fruitful to consider the functions of rules within the network.

First, rules provide an explanatory mechanism and rationale in case of the failure of charms to protect the body from harm. In this instance, unconscious violation of rules could be invoked to explain the failure so that the integrity and efficacy of charms can be maintained. According to my interlocutors, the susceptibility and durability of charms to being neutralised by various factors, including eating, drinking, or touching, is the reason why on some occasions vigilantes become victims of gunshots or sharp force injuries. Second, rules provide an opportunity for renewal and revitalisation of the relational network that empowers the charms. When a rule is violated, the network is broken, and the charms become ineffective, hence the need for renewal. As Law (Law 1992) suggests, the configurations of a network become apparent when the system is broken; however, it remains unnoticed when it is running smoothly. In this sense, rules and possible violations reinvigorate and ensure the durability of the network within which the charms exist. In this vein, Latour (2005) contends that networks are potentially transient, existing in a continuous making and re-making process.

Rules also point to the critical roles of priests who serve as intermediaries that order and reconfigure the relationality of the network if it is broken. Alabi asserted that he renewed the charms of his subordinates every four months. Furthermore, he gives them different charms with different rules as a backup in case one is broken due to unknown infringements; thus, the other charms would continue to operate. This inextricable relationship between the vigilantes’ practices of charms and Yoruba traditional religion is underscored by the fact that the preparation and distribution of the charms are mostly led by priests according to the principles of the traditional religion. The flat ontological relationality between the vigilante subjects, the priest, the charms, and the divinities is indicative of further conflation between vigilantism and traditional religion. Furthermore, the belief that charms are animated by traditional deities is also evidence of this connection.

These connections and networks with the supernatural enchant the VGN’s security provision in various local communities. Several people that I interacted with suggested to me that they trusted the vigilante’s security service because they possessed supernatural powers. Other interlocutors reported to me that they had accepted the vigilantes’ authority because vigilantes performed oath-taking rituals in the presence of traditional deities to work for the good of the community.

In this section, ANT conceptualises networks as dynamic assemblages that are constantly being assembled, disassembled, and mobilised in response to changing circumstances and contingencies. The VGN authority is not solely determined by formal structures or hierarchies but emerges from the ongoing interactions and mobilisations of actors within the network. This perspective allows for a more nuanced understanding of how vigilante authority is exercised and resisted in different contexts.

Vigilantes’ authority, charms and Africanization

One of my interlocutors has confirmed to me that charms play a vital role in helping vigilantes to earn the trust of community members. One morning in November 2022, I visited the VGN office in the Agege area with the local command. I met the commander settling a dispute over debt between two men. After the meeting, I asked one of the men why he accepted and submitted himself to the authority of vigilante. The man replied that he trusted vigilantes because they used their extraordinary power to protect them from criminals and other bad elements in the community. These people also took an oath with the traditional gods to protect us and secure our community. This remark indicates that the authority of vigilantes is interlinked with the hidden power of charms.

The power and efficacy of charms often come to life through stories circulated in local communities. The key actors in these narratives are vigilantes and criminal gangs and the target audience is community members. Arguably, the embodied materialities of charms, amulets, and apotropaic objects have transformed vigilantes into people with iron skin and deeply shaped social relations between vigilantes and their communities. Through the circulation of stories concerning the extraordinary feats of vigilantes, charms privately concealed on the body become a public phenomenon. Therefore, this iron-skin of vigilantes becomes visible and achieves publicity through narratives that go viral among communities. Although vigilantes sometimes emphasise the secrecy of their engagement with charms, narratives of their efficacy reveal their existence. Bodies that have defied death and become impervious to sharp force and bullets become extraordinary and different from others. Charms have changed the image of vigilantes from one of ordinary people, into people with iron skin who command extraordinary powers. Similar to the uniform, handcuffs, tasers, and CS spray, charms – although concealed on the body – generate a sense of coercive power that enhances vigilantes’ authority. Many people fear vigilantes because of their charms. The power of their magical iron skin distinguishes and marks vigilantes’ alterity from that of other state security agents.

It is important to note that the Nigerian public sphere is dominated by Pentecostals and Islamic reformists who constantly demonise the traditional religion and the use of charms. This situation creates tension among some Muslim and Christian vigilantes who create discourses of Africanisation and heritagization to legitimate and rationalise their engagements with the practices of charms. The notion of heritagization originates from a political discourse that attempts to reframe aspects of traditional religion, especially festivals, and arts, as a cultural heritage that can be commodified and branded as tourist attractions. Some VGN members adopted this notion and refashioned the use of protective charms as African heritage. Crucially, this heritagization of charms could be viewed as a tactic for reducing the tension and psychological dissonance among some vigilantes who follow institutionalised religions. These tactics legitimise the use of charms and added mystery to their charms which further enchant vigilantes’ bodies and enhance their authority.

Concluding remarks

As the VGN has continued to expand at the frontiers of the urban megalopolis of Lagos, the Yoruba traditional religion has become a reservoir from which protective medicines have been outsourced. Over the last two decades, the role of vigilantes at these urban frontiers has extended beyond night patrols into informal security governing institutions that permeate various aspects of local communities. This has transformed vigilantism into an institution of social control. In this paper, I show that the use of charms is inextricably interlinked with the traditional religion through a relational network established through the ritual of oath-taking. This network consists of four main actants: the vigilante subjects, the priest, the deities, and the charm objects. These four actants become active agents in the dynamic network, which produces a social reality that reaffirms and consolidates vigilante authority and legitimacy. Through this network, deities of traditional religion become active participants in the local security governance of the vigilantes. The deities have become the ultimate guardians of justice by participating in the network and constantly surveilling and sanctioning vigilantes’ conduct.

The actor-network theory offers a valuable framework for studying vigilante authority by highlighting the complex interactions and relationships between human and non-human actors within networks, the processes through which authority is constructed and contested, and the dynamics of power and agency that shape the VGN policing practices and outcomes.

However, since the use of charms is heavily demonised in the public realm, vigilantes invoke the notion of Africanisation and heritagization to legitimate their engagement in the practice. The notion of heritage has a persuasive thrust, appealing to sections of the public who do not share a favourable view of traditional religion. Moreover, the presence of the traditional religion in the vigilantes’ security governance redefined their identity and differentiated them from the seemingly secular state police. The discourse of African or forefather security methods is centred on drawing from the repository of ‘historical and spiritual legitimacy of young powerful men, defending the community under the local religious injunction and protection’ (Pratten 2008, 65). The deployment of charms in security services is a mechanism for tapping into the precolonial system of justice, which is intermeshed with the repertoires of spiritual elements, such as oracles and diviners (Harnischfeger 2003). Therefore, vigilantes’ source of authority is anchored in connections with traditional practices, including elements of traditional religion.

Funding Statement

The research for this this article was funded by the European Union (ERC, SACRASEC, 818707). Views and opinions expressed are however those of the author(s) only and do not necessarily reflect those of the European Union or the European Research Council Executive Agency. Neither the European Union nor the granting authority can be held responsible for them.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.