Where Are The GOs? -By Isaac Asabor

In 1989, Nigerian reggae musician Peterside Ottong asked a haunting question in one of his albums: “Where are the prophets?” More than three decades later, that question has not lost its urgency. If anything, it has evolved. Today, the more pointed question is this: Where are the GOs?

In a country groaning under the weight of bad leadership, harsh economic policies and deepening inequality, millions of Nigerians are searching, not for miracles, but for moral courage. They are looking for voices that can speak truth to power. They are waiting for men who command enormous followership and reverence to look political leaders in the eye and tell them the hard truth. Yet, the silence from the nation’s most influential pastors, particularly the General Overseers (GOs) who preside over vast religious empires, has become deafening.

Pastors and prophets are used interchangeably in this context, not out of theological carelessness but for clarity. In contemporary Nigeria, pastors, especially GOs, are widely perceived as modern-day prophets. Their words shape opinions, influence voting behaviour, and sometimes determine how millions interpret national events. That is precisely why their reluctance to confront political power is troubling.

Today, Nigeria’s political leaders are rarely subjected to sustained, constructive criticism from respected religious leaders or traditional authorities. That burden has largely fallen on journalists, civil society actors, social critics, and a handful of outspoken commentators. If highly revered GOs had consistently raised their voices alongside these groups, Nigeria’s political culture, and perhaps its economy, might not have deteriorated to its current state.

Ironically, pastors are everywhere. Churches dot almost every street, especially in Lagos and other urban centres. Crusades fill stadiums. Night vigils overflow. Nevertheless, when it comes to collectively confronting politicians over corruption, incompetence, and anti-people policies, most GOs suddenly develop stage fright. Only a brave few dare to speak plainly.

The Bible itself offers a clear template. In second Samuel Chapter 12, Prophet Nathan confronted King David after he unjustly took Bathsheba and orchestrated the death of her husband, Uriah. Nathan did not whisper. He did not speak in parables designed to avoid offence. He rebuked David openly and directly. That story alone captures the prophetic responsibility toward governance.

Scripture describes believers as the salt of the earth and the light of the world. Salt preserves; light exposes. By extension, pastors, especially those with national followership, are meant to confront decay and illuminate darkness wherever it exists, including in government. If this role were being faithfully played, many political leaders would be far more cautious in how they govern.

There was a time when men of God regularly engaged national issues without fear. Voices such as Rt. Rev. Dr. James Ukaegbu, Bishop Matthew Kukah, Rev. Father George Ehusani, and Rev. Father Ejike Mbaka were often heard speaking frankly on matters of public concern. Today, such voices are rare. Many pulpits have become zones of safe messages, prosperity, personal breakthroughs, and spiritual warfare, while national decay is treated with vague allusions, if mentioned at all.

It is often argued that pastors should remain apolitical. That argument misses the point. Speaking truth is not partisan politics. Calling out injustice is not party affiliation. Pastors are not required to campaign for candidates, but they are scripturally mandated to speak truth regardless of whose interests are threatened. Their members suffer first from bad governance, through unemployment, hunger, inflation, and insecurity, long before they come seeking prayers.

Yes, politicians are prayed for. That is commendable. Nevertheless, prayer without action is hollow. The book of James makes it plain: faith without works is dead. Yet many GOs thunder only when preaching prosperity or collecting offerings, while criticism of oppressive policies is delivered in hushed tones, carefully wrapped in coded language.

Some will point out that a few pastors openly criticize government. That is true, and commendable. However, this piece is not about those with overt political alignments or partisan ambitions. It is about the GOs whose words carry the weight of an oracle, whose pronouncements can shake nations, yet who choose silence.

The uncomfortable truth is that materialism has crept deeply into the church. Many politicians are aggressively religious, lavishing attention, donations, and patronage on pastors. This proximity has blurred moral boundaries. When church projects are funded by questionable public funds, when fat tithes and offerings come from political office holders, it becomes difficult to rebuke the same hands that give.

Yet this is precisely why GOs occupy a unique moral pedestal. Politicians listen to them. They revere them. They seek their prayers and endorsements. If GOs chose to consistently confront anti-people policies, corruption, and reckless governance, many leaders would be forced to pause and reconsider.

Pastors should remind presidents, governors, legislators, and council chairmen of the message of Ecclesiastes: that power, wealth, and achievement are fleeting; that life is fragile; that judgment is inevitable. If some disgraced former governors had truly internalized this message, perhaps taught plainly by pastors they courted, they might not have ended up facing justice abroad after looting public treasuries.

It is difficult to ignore widespread speculation that financial gratification, donations, sponsorships, and so-called seed sowing lubricate the closeness between some GOs and politicians. Whether exaggerated or not, the perception persists because of the visible reluctance of many pastors to condemn corruption and incompetence with clarity and courage.

The cost of this silence is borne by ordinary Nigerians, people suffering through no fault of theirs. Hunger, unemployment, failing infrastructure, and insecurity are not abstract concepts; they are daily realities. The question therefore remains: Where are the GOs?

It is time for Nigeria’s most influential pastors to rediscover the prophetic courage of old. Let them speak directly to errant leaders, privately and publicly. Let them preach sermons that name injustice without apology. Let them issue statements, hold press conferences, and remind those in power that governance is service, not entitlement.

Until then, the silence of the GOs will continue to echo louder than any sermon, and Nigeria will continue to pay the price.