A Cry for Reform: The Plight of the Nigerian Clergy Across Denominations

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By Ven. David C. Nwanekpe

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After reading a deeply moving reflection shared by a young Catholic priest, Fr. Prince, currently serving in South Korea, my spirit was stirred. His words were not just a lamentation of the realities faced by Catholic clergy, but a mirror reflecting a broader crisis in the Nigerian Church—Anglican, Catholic, and Pentecostal alike.

As I read through his post (which I will share below), I could not help but see the alignment between his testimony and the lived experiences of countless clergymen I know in Nigeria. What he wrote is not an isolated cry; it is the silent, buried groaning of many who wear the collar with dignity, yet live in quiet suffering.

1. The Quiet Pain of Serving Clergy

Let us be honest: the Nigerian Church—regardless of denomination—has subjected its ministers to inhumane conditions under the guise of “serving God.” The system, as it stands today, is not only unsustainable; it is unjust.

Our clergy work under excruciating circumstances. Many go for months without salaries, without health insurance, without accommodation, and without any social security. Yet, these same men and women mount the pulpit every Sunday to preach faith, hope, and perseverance.

How do we expect a priest whose children are out of school because of unpaid fees to preach peace with a calm heart?
How does a clergy family that sleeps hungry raise joyful, godly children?
How can a clergy wife smile while her husband is emotionally and financially battered by the very church he serves?

2. The Tragedy of Clergy Families

These questions are not rhetorical. They are painfully real.

Many clergy children are abandoning the Church—not because they hate God, but because they watched the Church mistreat their parents.
Daughters of priests are enticed into ungodly lifestyles, not out of immorality, but because they grew up with trauma, lack, and shame.
Sons of clergy vow never to follow in their father’s footsteps, having seen a man of God honored in public but humiliated in private.

In many dioceses, clergy wives are merely surviving. They cry silently and pray without ceasing. But for how long can this continue?

3. The Few and the Forgotten

Let’s be fair: there are a few dioceses in Nigeria where clergy welfare is taken seriously—places like Lagos, Niger, and perhaps a handful more. But what about the vast majority?

What about rural priests?
What about evangelists laboring in the hinterlands?
What about pioneering missionaries with no backing?

Many clergymen remain silent—not because they are strong, but because they are afraid. Afraid of victimization. Afraid of being labeled rebellious. Afraid of losing what little they have left.

4. Beyond Denominations—A Systemic Crisis

After reading Fr. Prince’s heartfelt lament, I am more convinced than ever: the problem is not denominational—it is systemic.

The Catholic priest suffers.
The Anglican priest suffers.
The Pentecostal pastor suffers.

In some Pentecostal systems, it is even more appalling. The “big man of God” enjoys luxury, rides in convoys, and receives all the tithes, while junior pastors—who sweep his office and run his errands—can barely feed their families.

Where is the justice in all of this?

5. This is a Plea—Not a Protest

Let me be clear: this is not a call to rebellion. It is a call for reform.
It is a plea for compassion. A cry for justice. A call for the Church—our beloved Church—to ask:

“Is this the way Christ intended it to be?”

For every clergyman who continues to serve faithfully under these painful conditions, I salute you.
You are heroes of faith. Your perseverance, loyalty, and courage will be rewarded by heaven.

But we must ask ourselves honestly:
Must it continue this way?