The brutal assassination of two Catholic priests within a span of five days, as reported marks a chilling escalation in Kenya’s descent into tyranny. This state-orchestrated carnage, designed to instill fear and anxiety among the clergy and their flock, strikes at the heart of the Catholic Church – a body that has historically played a pivotal role in Kenya’s liberation struggles but has lately wavered in its resolve.
Police spokesperson Muchiri Nyaga claims six suspects are in custody and insists the murders are unrelated to cattle rustling or banditry, but these assertions reek of a sinister cover-up meant to obfuscate the regime’s culpability. The targeting of priests, symbols of moral and spiritual authority, is a calculated move by William Ruto’s rogue administration to silence dissent and cow the church into submission. If the church, a once-formidable institution, can be so viciously attacked, what hope remains for the ordinary Kenyan?
The Catholic Church’s current predicament is a bitter fruit of its own reticence. For too long, it has lingered on the sidelines of Kenya’s governance crisis, issuing only sporadic, tepid statements on the nation’s decay. During the first two years of Ruto’s presidency, marked by abductions, enforced disappearances, and extrajudicial killings, the church adopted a wait-and-see attitude, opting for silence in the face of egregious human rights violations. It was only weeks after the worst of these atrocities that the church mustered a tempered response, a feeble whisper where a lion’s roar was needed.
This dalliance with a regime steeped in malevolence has emboldened the state to strike directly at the clergy, perceiving the church’s silence as acquiescence. Now, the blood of these priests stains the hands of a government that thrives on terror – and the church must face its reckoning for failing to stand firm sooner.
Yet, this is not the legacy of the Kenyan church. History bears witness to its fearless role as a beacon of justice during the darkest chapters of the nation’s past. In the 1980s and 1990s, under the oppressive regime of Daniel arap Moi, the church was at the forefront of Kenya’s liberation struggle. Archbishop David Gitari of the Anglican Church fearlessly denounced Moi’s authoritarianism, using his pulpit to rally Kenyans against one-party rule. Gitari’s sermons, often laced with biblical indictments of tyranny, galvanized the push for multiparty democracy, even as he faced threats to his life.
Similarly, Catholic Archbishop Ndingi Mwana Nzeki stood as a colossus of moral courage, championing the rights of the poor and displaced during the 1990s land clashes orchestrated by Moi’s regime to suppress dissent. Ndingi’s unrelenting advocacy for justice – whether through condemning electoral fraud or sheltering victims of state violence – made him a thorn in the government’s side, yet an unyielding voice for the voiceless. These clerics, alongside others like Rev. Timothy Njoya and Bishop Alexander Muge, transformed the church into a sanctuary of resistance, proving that spiritual leadership demands active engagement in the fight for righteousness.
The church’s current fence-sitting is a betrayal of this storied legacy and a dereliction of its moral and spiritual responsibility. The Bible is unequivocal about the church’s duty to champion justice and stand with the oppressed. Micah 6:8 declares, “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Justice is not a suggestion – it is a divine imperative. The church cannot claim to walk humbly with God while turning a blind eye to the suffering of Kenyans under a regime that abducts, kills, and plunders with impunity. Likewise, Isaiah 1:17 commands, “Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.”
The church is called to be a bulwark for the marginalized, a clarion voice against oppression, and a defender of the downtrodden. To remain silent in the face of the priests’ murders – and the broader campaign of terror under Ruto – is to forsake this sacred mandate.
The church’s moral and spiritual obligation is clear: it must not be a bystander while Kenya burns. The murders of these priests are not isolated incidents but part of a systematic assault on dissent, designed to paralyze institutions that could challenge the regime’s stranglehold. The Catholic Church’s earlier silence on Ruto’s atrocities – abductions, disappearances, and extrajudicial killings – sent a message of complicity, emboldening the state to escalate its terror.
Now, the church faces a choice: cower in fear or reclaim its prophetic role as a defender of justice. Silence is consent, and consent in the face of such heinous acts is tantamount to betrayal. The church must heed the lessons of Gitari and Ndingi, who understood that spiritual leadership is inseparable from the fight for good governance and human dignity.
All churches, Catholic and otherwise, must rise with unyielding resolve and condemn these barbaric killings with the fiercest denunciation. The blood of these priests cries out for justice, and the church cannot afford to remain a passive spectator. It must prepare its membership for the June protests, mobilizing the faithful to stand against this oppressive regime with the same fervor that toppled Moi’s dictatorship. The church must reject the fear the state seeks to instill, for fear is the weapon of tyrants, not the inheritance of God’s people. It must organize prayer vigils, lead marches, and use its moral authority to rally Kenyans in a unified cry for justice, echoing the #RutoMustGo movement that reverberates across the nation.
The time for equivocation is over. The church must reclaim its historic mantle as Kenya’s moral vanguard, standing with the people as it did in the days of Gitari and Ndingi. It must not be a fence-sitter while the nation bleeds, for its silence has already cost lives – let it not cost Kenya’s future. Rise, proclaim the truth, and fight, for the Lord demands nothing less.
The clamor for a just government is not just a political battle; it is a spiritual crusade for the soul of a nation. The church must lead the charge, or history will judge it as an accomplice to tyranny.
