In an era of greed and impunity, only clergy capital can save this country
Opinion
By
Edward Buri
| Aug 03, 2025
In an age when the moral backbone of nations bends under the weight of greed, impunity, and spiritual shallowness, a vital but often overlooked form of capital must rise again—clergy capital.
Unlike financial capital that counts currency or political capital that calculates votes, clergy capital draws from a deeper economy: character, courage, conviction, compassion, and divine communion.
It is not about clerical collars, sprawling sanctuaries, or flashy religious branding. It is about a rare breed of ministers — authentic, spirit-led, morally grounded. These are clergy who interact with power but do not worship it. They walk with kings yet never lose the scent of the sheep. They can rebuke the powerful without forfeiting the love of the poor. Their faith is not ornamental—it is operational.
These clergy bring both information and inspiration. They are intellectually alert and spiritually awake. They know budgets and the Bible, policy and prophecy. They don’t just say grace at State banquets, they interrogate the structures behind them. When bullets silence the innocent, they don’t merely conduct funerals, they confront the systems that caused them. They understand that compassion without confrontation is complicity.
READ MORE
Cabinet gives nod for 80MW geothermal power plant
How Kenyan banks are losing billions to fraud
Why US ballooning public debt is a key concern for Kenya
Nairobi Expressway contractor to shoulder Sh6.9b tax bill
KEBS on the spot over plans to engage firm to validate vehicle importation papers
Call for business leaders to adopt AI for increased productivity
Tata Chemicals to pause Kenya operations for major upgrade
Mombasa port maintains grip as key hub for Uganda
Safaricom Hook holds training forums for youth in Western Kenya
Clergy capital doesn’t mean neutrality. It means moral clarity. Jesus wasn’t neutral. The prophets weren’t neutral. And the true Church must not hide behind polite silence in moments of national urgency. Prophetic leadership is never safe, but it is always necessary. What Kenya needs today is not church leaders skilled at ceremony, but shepherds ready for confrontation.
We don’t need every clergy member to rise. A faithful remnant. We don’t need uniformity in tone or intensity, just collective growth in faithfulness. A few is enough. A burning bush is all it takes to light a nation’s path.
We’ve seen glimmers of this. Bishop David Oginde’s prayer at State House was one such moment. His courage carried the nation. Why? Because Kenyans felt their pain was finally voiced, and their hope was offered in the presence of those who — if obedient — could become the very answer to that prayer. That prayer didn’t flatter— it revealed. It didn’t appease, it provoked. And in doing so, it reminded us of the prophetic role of the clergy: to pray truth to power, in the house of power, in the presence of the powerful.
We often hear of “speaking truth to power”, but we are now witnessing something deeper: praying truth to power, in power’s own house. When clergy step into State House or Parliament or televised platforms and bring not flattery, but fire—that is spiritual leadership. That is national service.
True faith is not casual, it is convicted. Faith is not a cosmetic auxiliary, it is a costly allegiance. In its true form, faith is laced with a stubborn, often dangerous courage. It hooks itself onto a Saviour before whom all other saviours look pale. Faith is not for the faint-hearted. It demands your life at certain points. It is not for the desperate but for those who have discovered its worth, and would sell everything to possess it. It is not an escape from the world, it is the place where the world escapes to find hope.
Faith is expected by the community to be fearless because its source, Jesus Christ, hung on a cross. He didn’t run from death. He walked toward it, with blood, burden, and obedience. So too must His followers.
But not all do. Some clergy claim to follow the Lord of lords but tremble at the sight of a local politician. They speak of heaven’s authority but panic at the sight of earthly power. They bless evil with silence. They camouflage in comfort. They settle for being pawns in political strategy meetings and call it ‘engagement.’ But let it be said plainly: a fearful faith is devoured by evil for breakfast.
True courage in faith is not reflected by popularity or political connections. It is affirmed by martyrdom, by sacrifice, by steadfastness when there is no applause and no reward. Victory is a favourable outcome, but faith does not wait for victory to remain faithful. It acts because of conviction, not convenience.
In this defining moment, Kenya needs clergy courage more than ever. The streets are not the only battleground. The pulpit is also a street. The prayer is also a protest. The sermon is also a resistance. Clergy must know that they have their own streets and they must occupy them.
When greedy politicians show up in churches, clergy should tweak their prayers to confront, not consecrate. A prophet’s prayer is not for performance, it is for penetration. It must unmask the oppressor, stir the conscience, and summon heaven. In times like these, our prayers must say to Caesar what no adviser will: “You are not god.”
Sadly, too many politicians in Kenya have perfected tactics over wisdom. But tactics only win headlines but wisdom builds nations. Tactics shout; wisdom listens. Tactics scheme; wisdom discerns. A nation built only on tactics will eventually collapse under the weight of its own cleverness.
So who will steady the nation? Enter the courageous clergy.
When clergy rise with clarity and conviction, they inject sanity into systems. They force thieves to think twice. They serve as societal shepherds not just spiritual decorators. Their role is not to be near power, but to speak God’s word to power. And when they do, their presence multiplies the corrective voices in a nation. This is clergy capital.
This is not the hour for clergy to protect privilege. It is the hour to spend the capital we have—our moral courage, our spiritual credibility, our prophetic insight. The Gen Z protesters have already paid with their lives. If we do not add our voices to theirs, the Church will not just be irrelevant, it will be complicit.
Champions of good need cheering too. Let the nation encourage the pastors who dare to speak. Let bishops, evangelists, and parish ministers who call out injustice know they are not alone. Their courage fuels others.
If we dare raise a band of praying, thinking, bold, and weeping clergy, then Kenya will hasten her healingnot just from economic poverty, but from moral and spiritual decay.