There is something deeply revealing—and deeply troubling—about the ferocious reaction that followed the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of Nigeria’s meeting with President Bola Tinubu on 28 July 2026.
The bishops, in the long tradition of the Church speaking truth to power, presented a sober assessment of a nation in distress: a bleeding economy that fails the poor, persistent insecurity, and anxieties about democratic health and credible elections.
Cardinal John Onaiyekan later recounted the exchange with characteristic candour. The Presidency’s response, channelled through aides such as Temitope Ajayi and Daniel Bwala, was not engagement with the substance but personal attack: “abuse of clerical privilege,” accusations of partisanship, claims that the Cardinal spoke only for Catholics allegedly rooting for one political figure.
This current administration appears so deliberately insulated that it prefers sycophantic praise to actual honest conversation.
A genuine and productive piece of advice was offered by the Catholic bishops—voices speaking the minds of millions of ordinary Nigerians—only for myopic handlers to convert it into a denominational quarrel.
That is embarrassing. People like Daniel Bwala should never be taken seriously on matters of national conscience; the pattern suggests work done more for proximity to power and personal sustenance than for the country’s long-term good.
These are the sycophants who erode leadership by shielding it from reality. Nigeria’s situation is terrible and deplorable—prices, insecurity, institutional decay—and everything is collapsing for too many citizens. Pretending otherwise helps no one.
History shows this is not how previous presidents treated similar interventions. In February 2018, the Catholic Bishops’ Conference visited President Muhammadu Buhari and delivered an equally frank message: the enormous goodwill with which he assumed office was being rapidly depleted by glaring failures of government.
They spoke of insecurity, governance shortcomings and the moral duty of spiritual leaders to raise the alarm. The address was public, reported widely, and while there was pushback on substance, there was no orchestrated personal assault on the bishops or Cardinal Onaiyekan for “abusing privilege” or for daring to interpret the meeting afterwards.
The bishops have a consistent record—across military and civilian eras—of offering bitter truth rather than olive oil.
Every president has received the same gift of frankness. Past administrations absorbed it without turning the messengers into enemies of the state.
Turning a national conversation into a denominational issue is particularly shortsighted. The Catholic Church is a major institution in Nigeria; significant numbers of APC members and office-holders are Catholics.
Many of them are Knights and faithful who place church and conviction before political convenience. A typical Catholic holds faith as primary. Attacking a Cardinal held in high esteem risks alienating not only the hierarchy but the broader faithful who see the Church as a moral anchor rather than a political prop.
Tinubu would do well to call his appointees—and the more zealous attack dogs—to order. This is not a war the administration should start. Treating independent voices of conscience as threats is a path that has undone governments before.
The bishops did their duty. They requested an audience, prepared a collective position after deliberation, and delivered it. Cardinal Onaiyekan’s subsequent clarity simply ensured Nigerians heard what was said in their name.
The real abuse of privilege is the insistence that only flattery may reach the President’s ears. Leadership that cannot tolerate honest conversation from respected moral institutions is leadership already in trouble.
The path forward is not to silence Cardinals or brand bishops partisan; it is to confront the hard realities the bishops named and begin the difficult work of reversing the collapse ordinary Nigerians feel every day. Anything less is delusion dressed as loyalty.
-Pamela O.
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