By Sir Divramredje Lawrence Efeturi
I write as a fully invested member of the ancient and noble Order of the Knights of St. John International, sworn to the service of the Roman Catholic Church and devoted to the sacred dignity of her priesthood
This is not a personal protest but a solemn lament; a cry from the soul, watching the desecration of what should remain consecrated.
Benue State weeps, not only from the terror of herdsmen and the silence of government, but from a deeper wound: the betrayal of her people by one who once bore the cassock of spiritual healing.
Fr. Hyacinth Alia, now Governor of Benue State, once stood at the altar to proclaim the Gospel, to consecrate the Host, to lead souls to salvation. But today, he wears not the stole of a shepherd but the sash of a politician. He no longer lifts the chalice in communion; he signs documents in government houses. And in that choice, something sacred was traded away. Something eternal was exchanged for something passing.
The Code of Canon Law speaks with divine precision. Canon 285 §3 forbids clerics from assuming public offices that involve the exercise of civil power. Canon 287 §2 advises priests to refrain from active participation in political parties unless a grave necessity demands it, and only with the judgment of ecclesiastical authority. Canon 289 cautions clerics against roles foreign to their state of life.
These canons are not archaic formalities. They are walls of protection, fences to keep the sacred from becoming profane
The priest is not of this world. He is not elected by men but chosen by God. His authority does not come from political popularity, but from divine ordination. And when such a man walks willingly into the noisy realm of partisanship, without the discernment, the permission, or the prophetic courage demanded by his calling, he drags the Church with him into dangerous territory.
Some argue in defense of Fr. Alia, claiming that he is merely subject to the “powers that be,” that he cannot speak or act beyond what his political circumstances allow. But this is precisely why the Church forbids priests from entering politics in the first place: because a priest cannot serve two masters.
The priest must be free to speak the truth without fear, to stand as a prophetic voice even when it is unpopular, to defend the flock even if it angers Caesar. When he becomes beholden to the political machinery, he can no longer be a prophet. He becomes a puppet. And in such silence, evil thrives.
The silence of Fr. Alia amid the brutal killings in Benue is not neutrality; it is betrayal. Whole villages have been razed. Children have been butchered. Mothers and fathers buried in shallow graves. Where is the voice of the shepherd? Where is the cry from the man of God who once lifted up the Body of Christ? Why is his mouth shut while his people are slaughtered?
If Fr. Alia received a canonical dispensation from the Holy See before contesting, let him show it. Let the faithful see on what basis the Church deemed it acceptable for a priest, bound by vow and mission, to take up civil office. And if such a dispensation exists, what has he done to justify it? What prophetic witness has he given? What justice has he delivered? What consolation has he offered the grieving? The answer is written in blood and silence.
A priest cannot pick and choose his duties. The chalice and the ballot box are not compatible. The confessional and the campaign rally speak different languages. Christ did not say, “When I was hungry, you issued a statement.” He said, “You gave me food.” He did not say, “When I was displaced, you held a press conference.” He said, “You took me in.” These words are not poetry. They are judgment.
This is not a condemnation born of bitterness. It is a cry for clarity; a call for fidelity. Fr. Alia must choose. He cannot stand at the altar of Christ and the altar of politics at the same time. He cannot bear the title of “Father” and remain mute in the face of moral chaos. If he truly desires to serve as a civil leader, let him renounce the priesthood. He must not drag it through the mud of partisan silence. And if he still considers himself a priest, let him rise as a prophet again. Let him speak for the oppressed, act for the vulnerable, and lead not with the cunning of politics, but with the fire of Christ.
The martyrs of the Church did not die for Senate seats. They died for truth. St. Ambrose rebuked an emperor. St. Thomas More gave his life for conscience. St. Oscar Romero was gunned down for defending the poor. None of these wore the garment of political compromise. They wore the crown of prophetic courage.
Heaven is watching. The Church is watching. The land of Benue groans in anguish.
I speak not in hatred but in love for the truth and in defense of the sacred. Let the altar be restored. Let the shepherd speak again. Let the priesthood be freed from the weight of silence and the shadow of compromise.
Sir Divramredj Lawrence Efeturi, KSJI, Voice for the Wounded. Soldier of Truth