Rev. Fr. Emmanuel Obimma, fondly called Ebube Muonso, seems to have wandered off the sacred path into the treacherous swamp of politicking, trading his priestly cassock for a cloak of incendiary rhetoric. His recent outburst against Governor Chukwuma Soludo’s administration reeks of half-baked political machinations and an alarming departure from the wisdom and dignity expected of one entrusted with the care of souls. It is akin to a shepherd who, rather than leading his flock to green pastures, deliberately steers them toward perilous cliffs. His attempt to juxtapose Governor Soludo’s administration with the Obiano era on the matter of insecurity is akin to comparing a lighthouse to a flickering candle. During the twilight of Obiano’s administration, Anambra descended into chaos. Towns such as Ezinifite, Utuh, Ebenator, Osumenyi, Amichi, Unubi, Ekwulumili, Azigbo, Akpujiogu (Akpu), Umuomaku, and many more were overrun by criminal elements, leaving communities in Ihiala, Ogbaru, and Ekwusigo paralyzed by fear. Burials, Easter celebrations, and Christmas festivities became distant dreams. Entire towns were emptied as people fled for their lives, their ancestral lands reduced to ghost towns. It was a reign of terror that left the state’s moral and social fabric in tatters.
Under Governor Soludo’s administration, however, the tide has turned. Through strategic governance and robust security measures, over 3,000 criminals have been apprehended, and 65 criminal camps dismantled. The operation to reclaim these communities was not without sacrifice, but it was rooted in the firm resolve to restore Anambra’s dignity. Today, these same towns, once gripped by despair, are reclaiming their vibrancy, hosting celebrations, and welcoming back their exiled sons and daughters. To trivialize these efforts is to insult the memory of those who suffered and the valor of those who fought to restore peace.
History offers cautionary tales of priests who traded their sacred calling for political adventures, only to lose both moral dignity and societal relevance. Consider Rev. Fr. Jean-Bertrand Aristide of Haiti, who transitioned from the pulpit to politics, but his leadership was marred by accusations of corruption and violence, leaving his legacy in tatters. Even celebrated clergy like Rev. Fr. Charles Coughlin in the United States, who wielded immense influence through his radio sermons, fell into disrepute for using his platform to espouse divisive and controversial political views. Fr. Obimma risks treading this same path, his words becoming the very stones with which his reputation may be shattered.
In contrast, figures like Archbishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa stand as beacons of justice. Tutu never offered divisive political views but used his position to confront apartheid, champion human rights, and foster reconciliation. He proved that a priest’s power lies not in partisan alignments but in moral clarity, truth-telling, and a commitment to uplifting humanity.
Security, as any seasoned strategist knows, is not a fleeting endeavor but an unending commitment. Governor Soludo’s Operation Udogachi underscores this principle, with over 163 security vehicles set to roll out this January alone. Yet, Fr. Obimma’s diatribe conveniently ignores this reality, choosing instead to play to the gallery. One cannot help but wonder whether his motives stem from genuine concern for the state or a misguided attempt at political posturing. The role of a priest is that of a lighthouse, guiding souls safely to harbor, not a provocateur stirring tempests in already troubled waters.
Insecurity is a hydra-headed beast, not peculiar to Anambra but emblematic of a larger national malaise. It demands a concerted effort, a symphony of government action, community vigilance, and divine intercession. Fr. Obimma’s platform should be a pulpit of peace, his voice a balm for the wounded, not a battle cry sowing discord. He should be a bridge-builder, fostering trust between the government and the governed, not a demolition expert tearing down hard-won progress.
Governor Soludo’s administration, while not claiming perfection, has proven that a blend of vision, strategy, and action can yield tangible results. The people of Anambra deserve leaders, spiritual and political alike, who champion unity, celebrate progress, and inspire hope. Fr. Obimma, for all his charisma, must decide whether he wishes to be remembered as a priest who healed or one who divided, a shepherd of peace or a harbinger of strife. The pulpit, after all, is no place for the theatrics of partisan politics—it is a sacred stage for truth, compassion, and unyielding hope.