A heated debate has erupted online following a YouTube video by Nigerian travel content creator Steven Ndukwu, after his visit to the Republic of Benin where he filmed and commented extensively on Vodun/Vothun (commonly referred to as Voodoo), a traditional religion officially recognised by the Beninese state.

In the widely circulated video, Steven documented rituals, festivals, markets, and performances associated with Vodun in Ouidah and surrounding communities. While the footage attracted global attention, his commentary — which described Vodun as “fake,” “tricks,” and comparable to stage magic — has drawn strong backlash from cultural advocates, scholars, and members of the Beninese community.

Vodun is not only a spiritual system but a cornerstone of Benin’s national identity, history, and tourism economy. It predates colonialism by centuries and is deeply woven into community life, governance, festivals, and ancestral remembrance.

For many in Benin, the portrayal of Vodun as “dark,” “evil,” or deceptive echoes long-standing colonial narratives that sought to delegitimise African belief systems.

Critics argue that Steven’s content crossed from travel documentation into ridicule. Although he stated that the video was for “entertainment” and denied any intent to insult Benin or harm its tourism industry, opponents say intent does not erase impact — especially when sacred practices are filmed, sensationalised, and publicly dismissed for online engagement.

The controversy escalated after cultural advocate Iyo Obietonbora announced that he had submitted a formal petition at the Embassy of the Republic of Benin, calling for Steven Ndukwu to be banned from re-entering the country. In his statement, Obietonbora described the video as cultural vandalism, arguing that mocking Vodun amounts to psychological harm to believers and contributes to the erosion of indigenous African heritage.

He further warned that allowing such content creators unrestricted access to sacred spaces encourages exploitation, commodification, and disrespect — particularly when African spiritual systems are treated differently from globally protected religious sites.

According to him, no one would attempt a similar “exposé” of the Vatican or the Kaaba without consequences, and African traditions deserve equal respect.

Steven, on his part, maintains that his investigation was meant to “expose the truth” and encourage Africans to reject fear-based belief systems. He insists that if spiritual practices were truly powerful, they would be used to advance African societies technologically and economically rather than to instil fear. This framing, however, has further inflamed critics who argue that spirituality, culture, and development are not mutually exclusive.

For many observers, the issue goes beyond one YouTuber. It touches on broader questions of cultural respect, ethical tourism, content monetisation, and how Africans engage with their own heritage — especially when crossing borders within the continent.

As a border community with deep historical ties to Benin, Badagry residents are particularly sensitive to narratives around slavery routes, ancestral religions, and cross-border cultural identity.

The debate continues online, with opinions divided between freedom of expression and the responsibility of visitors to respect host cultures. What remains clear is that the incident has reopened important conversations about who tells African stories, how they are told, and at what cost.