When Fr. Hyacinth Alia—a Catholic priest known for his healing ministry and charismatic preaching—declared his ambition to contest the governorship of Benue State, many believed it was a divine intervention. A priest in politics? Surely this was God’s answer to the cries of a people broken by corruption, bad governance, and the blood-soaked cruelty of Fulani herdsmen. His candidacy was wrapped in the aura of a messianic mission. Supporters waved his posters like sacred icons, heralding a new dawn.
But this hope has curdled into disillusionment.
Benue has suffered. From Gabriel Suswam’s era of brazen looting to Samuel Ortom’s hypocrisy—hiding behind his defiance of the Buhari administration while emptying state coffers—residents have known political betrayal. Alia, who rose on a wave of spiritual populism, has proven no different. If anything, his silence and inaction in the face of continued bloodshed have become a source of national shame.
Benue today bleeds with fresh wounds. Entire villages like Yelwata are turned into cemeteries overnight. Women are raped, children slaughtered, homes torched—and the state government under Fr. Alia has neither spoken with clarity nor acted with urgency. Not a press release. Not a state visit. Not even a condolence tweet. Even when the Holy Father, Pope Leo, prayed for Benue victims during his Angelus address, Alia’s lips remained sealed. A priest who once claimed to be a messenger of divine justice now stands as a symbol of cowardice and complicity.
The tragedy of Fr. Alia is not just his failure—it is what his rise represents. It reflects a troubling mindset among Nigerians that divine calling is a substitute for political competence. That a priest, by virtue of ordination, possesses magical solutions to the real, material crises of governance. But pastoral charisma does not translate to policy wisdom. Holy water cannot quench the fire of terrorism. The cassock is not bulletproof against the corruption embedded in Nigeria’s political terrain.
Even Alia’s early political test—the local government elections—betrayed his ethical emptiness. The elections were marred by blatant rigging, with all results swinging conveniently in favor of his APC party. So much for justice. So much for a priest’s moral compass.
In a moment of bitter irony, it is not Fr. Alia who has spoken up for Benue’s murdered and displaced. It is Bishop Wilfred Anagbe—the same cleric Alia’s supporters once mocked for disciplining him under Canon Law for venturing into partisan politics. Bishop Anagbe stood before the U.S. Congress, denouncing the Nigerian government’s protection of Fulani terrorists and calling for international sanctions. Where is Governor Alia? Nowhere. Mute. Immobilized. Terrified to offend the party that nursed him into power.
Fr. Alia has found himself locked in a tragic dance with the devil. And in politics, when you dine with the devil, you must use a long spoon—or risk being devoured. But Alia came to the APC table with bare hands and pious illusions. He is now trapped—between the bloodstained ambitions of his party and the burning cries of his dying people.
And so, as Fulani militants continue their genocidal rampage, Alia wavers, waits, and whispers not a word. His hesitation has become betrayal. His silence is complicity. And his governance, a moral and strategic failure.
Let this be a final warning: the pulpit and the palace do not mix. Priests are shepherds, not politicians. The Church, in her centuries of wisdom, forbids clergy from contesting for public office—not as punishment, but as protection. For the soul of the priest and for the soul of the people.
Fr. Alia is no longer a priest at the altar, nor a leader in the field. He is a man undone—caught between sacred vows and profane power, between God and the APC, between the people’s pain and his own political paralysis.
He has failed Benue.
He has failed his calling.
And if he still has a shred of integrity left, Fr. Alia should resign.
*Fr Augustine Ikenna Anwuchie*
