On October 27th, it was a quiet Monday evening in the WhatsApp group of Gihon Hebrew Synagogue. A post notification popped up, with the new week’s parashah appearing on the top of the screen: Parashah Lech Lecha (Genesis 12:1-17:27). Haftara (Isaiah 40:27-41:16)
Beneath it, a list of aliyot unfolds—rishon, sheni, shilishi, revi’i, chamishi: some of the lines bearing a phone number, a name, a contributed amount, and a small green checkmark, showing payment received. Within minutes, the chat lights up as the synagogue members, in response to the call to indicate interest for any of the aliyot, begin to bid and claim their Torah honors for the coming Shabbat. Already, one Yosef had chosen petach, while the Hagbaáh spot was claimed by Tehilah bat Yoshyah. Another woman bids for Gelilat, indicating a male who had volunteered to stand in for her.
From my base in faraway East Africa, I bid interest for the 4th aliya (rivi’í) and confirmed it by sending a screenshot of payment successfully made. By Friday morning, every slot has been taken and recorded. What once required in-person coordination at the synagogue now happens seamlessly through mobile messages. A sacred practice of selecting who will ascend to the Torah has now been upgraded into the language of modern connectivity in this digital age, allowing members to participate in the Torah service irrespective of their present location.
From its earliest days, Gihon has called itself a synagogue of the people. Founded in the 1990s, it is one of the oldest mainstream Jewish congregations in the country. In contrast to numerous Nigerian synagogues that are established and headed by an individual or groups, Gihon has flourished thanks to the consistent generosity of those who pray within its walls.
Basically, the offerings realized by being called to the Torah—and the tzadaka, as well as other charity contributions—have long sustained the community. These contributions power the synagogue’s daily life: keeping the lights on, maintaining the sanctuary, and supporting Shabbat and festival observances such as meals, challah, religious materials, and symbolic food. Members are aware that each contribution, however small, helps sustain the house of prayer they call home.
For several years, Gihon’s stability and reputation have drawn wider recognition. And due to its long-standing presence in Nigeria’s capital, it has not only been visited by many foreigners but also attracted support from Jewish and Israeli organizations in the country. Through this network of goodwill, the synagogue has been able to undertake major community projects—including its kiddush hall, guest room, and kitchen space. Its perimeter fencing and water borehole were also built through donations from a well-wisher through the Chabad centre in Abuja and community support.
diligence have earned them recognition as one of the leading women’s congregations in the country.
Furthermore, it’s notable that inclusivity has always defined the community. Women, too, have long participated in the aliyah allotment. Under Orthodox custom, a male congregant ascends the bimah on their behalf, yet the woman’s Hebrew name is pronounced during the blessing, ensuring her spiritual presence is honored. Hence, clearly, the WhatsApp Aliyah system that Gihon now employs simply continues this tradition of openness and shared responsibility—preserving the synagogue’s communal spirit while it gracefully transitioned into the digital age.
Prior to leveraging the WhatsApp mobile application to transform the ritual, aliyot bidding at Gihon was scheduled for moments before the Torah service. As the scroll rested on the bimah, congregants would raise pledges aloud in a lively, if sometimes hurried, exchange. Others, knowing they might be absent, reach out to the gabbai a day or two earlier to reserve a slot.
It was an authentic, spirited procedure, but also a bit messy, especially when some members were absent or showed up late to the synagogue. The system favored those physically present, left little room for certainty in filling up the list of aliyot on time, and created occasional overlap in pledges. The record keeping was manual, sometimes plagued by unforeseeable delays in fulfilling payment, and for members abroad, impossible.
However, the limitations of an on-site system became clear as Gihon’s network of friends and families expanded across the country and as the recent astronomical rise in inflation due to the removal of subsidies in petroleum caused transportation expenses to the shul to soar beyond the reach of a few. The desire to preserve transparency, ensure order and flexibility, enable instant payment to secure aliyot slots, and promote inclusion gave rise to an idea that would transform not just logistics but the very meaning of connection.
The WhatsApp Model, a repetitive weekly protocol, usually resets after each Shabbat. Once the candles have been extinguished and the community rested, the gabbai, beginning on Tuesday morning, posts a message announcing the week’s parashah. The message lists the Torah portion, the haftarah, and all aliyah categories, including other synagogue honors such as petach, hagba’ah, gelilat, and tzdaka.
Members reply directly in the group chat or message the coordinator privately to claim their aliyah. Payments are made through bank transfer to the synagogue bank account indicated, and receipts are shared as screenshots. The post is then updated with verification marks indicating confirmed pledges. A simple reminder reads: It’s important to note that aliyot isn’t given on pledge but payment; payment confers the allotment.
Without doubt, the process is fully transparent: everyone can see which aliya has been taken, by whom, and at what bidding entry level. Now, just imagine how a few minutes of online interaction replace the once-hectic and mostly uncertain allotment moments that occurred before Torah reading. More importantly, the new system opens the doors of the bimah to members far beyond Abuja.
“Even though I have recently relocated to Port Harcourt (Southern Nigeria, about 690 km from Abuja), I am still a member of Gihon in my innermost heart, as always. I will continue to support the running of the synagogue, which has been important to me. It has helped shape my spiritual life, serving as both a place of worship and a centre for learning. I understand that this is one of the ways I can contribute to getting things up and running; I will continue to participate in bidding for aliyot from a distance and sending in my payment and donations.”
Just like ima Keleyah in Port Harcourt, I too, for the first time, participated from a distance outside Nigeria. I was in Uganda. That week, I saw the message for Parashat Lech Lecha, sent in the Gihon WhatsApp group. Without hesitation, I placed my bid for an aliyah, made the payment through mobile transfer, and sent my receipt. When Shabbat arrived, a brother in the congregation ascended the bimah in my stead. The reader called my Hebrew name in the blessing, and the congregation responded, “Amen.”
Though I was thousands of miles away, I felt the warmth of belonging. The words of Torah read in Abuja reached me across borders; my small contribution kept the synagogue alive while keeping my spirit anchored.
Since then, I have also joined from Kenya, getting the Aliya Rishon spot for the week of Parashat Vayeitzei. Each time, the experience reaffirms that distance cannot diminish devotion. This digital bridge allows me to stay connected to the vibrant Gihon community as a friend and well-wisher, actively participating in its ongoing activities back home.
In the WhatsApp bidding system, everyone has a share. Both men and women participate, families make joint pledges, and younger members, accustomed to digital interaction, have taken on a new level of engagement. Every contribution made, however small, supports the synagogue’s daily needs, which comprise fuel for the generator, electricity bills, support for festival meals, as well as bread and wine for kiddush. That shared understanding keeps the flame of collective responsibility burning. The digital chat has effectively become a new courtyard for the synagogue, serving as a typical virtual space where generosity and faith meet, with certainty also guaranteed.
“In the old method, people bid for aliya and are allowed to ascend the bimah without prepayment, in the hope that these pledges would be redeemed later, maybe within the new week. However, there was no mandatory deadline for making these payments. Therefore, the system was flawed to an extent, especially when some unfortunately failed to meet with their payment on time.” This was according to Shlomo Yaakov, a senior chazan, making comparisons between then and now.
From a broader perspective, this is a way of opening the door to a global opportunity. Through this digital system, anyone in the world can now willingly contribute to sustaining the spiritual growth of Gihon Hebrew Synagogue in the capital of Africa’s most populous nation. Whether one lives in South Africa, New York, or Tel Aviv, it takes only a few taps to bid for an aliyah, send the offering, and have one’s name blessed from Gihon’s bimah.
The spiritual connection is real: the Torah blessing spoken in Abuja mentions the name, and the congregation answers “Amen,” linking the giver’s intent with the community’s response. In many large synagogues abroad, obtaining an aliyah can be difficult because of the sheer number of congregants competing for limited honors. At Gihon, the model of this digital procedure guarantees access and an level playing ground, ensuring room for participation to share in the blessing.
For those seeking both a spiritual merit and a tangible way to strengthen African Judaism, this initiative offers a unique path. It doesn’t just democratize a sacred ritual but also decentralizes it and turns it into a channel of global participation.
The transition from ‘brick and mortar’ to an online platform has demonstrated the effectiveness of the WhatsApp model in addressing some of the issues presented by the previous approach. Management can draw inspiration from this, then iterate and expand beyond WhatsApp, perhaps utilizing their synagogue website or a dedicated app that would automate parts of the process. A secured payment gateway with multiple options is paramount, as well as real-time updates or even an AI assistant that can send simple, heartfelt thank-you notes automatically.
Beyond aliyah allotment, the Gihon WhatsApp community has become a digital hub for African Torah life, connecting different WhatsApp groups and creating a network of shared learning and support. The same system that now manages aliyot can also integrate the Gihon Eden Academy (a mini-Hebrew class) and even drive cross-community communication, allowing Jews nationwide and beyond to be part of the system.
Standing now for over 30 years, Gihon has continued to hold the status of being a community-owned house of prayer. Its openness and freedom of expression among members have helped it grow into one of the largest congregations in town. Its devotion is fervent, and even without a physical rabbi in their midst, the love and practice of Judaism are things many have admired and can attest to.
The community is guided by a group of elders and its founding fathers, who recognize the innovative mindset that their youthful generation brings to the table, striving to identify better ways to grow together in strength and purpose. Gihon’s experiment is part of a larger wave reshaping Jewish life on the continent as we see communities turning to digital tools for education, communication, and worship.
Technology, once viewed by some as a threat to tradition, has become its ally. How fascinating to see Gihon stand at the forefront of this digital revolution. Its aliyah system proves that innovation need not dilute faith; it can deepen it, preserving the Jewish heritage while mastering modernity.