Have our churches turned into sanctuaries for the corrupt?

Have our churches become places where criminals go to cleanse their reputations and whitewash their activities?

In Zimbabwe, we are witnessing a deeply troubling phenomenon - one that strikes at the very heart of our nation's moral and spiritual compass.

Individuals like Wicknell Chivayo, whose wealth has been accumulated under highly suspicious and opaque circumstances, are increasingly being welcomed with open arms into religious circles.

They are lavished with praise and celebrated as philanthropists, not by the public - who are well aware of the scandals surrounding them - but by the very people who are supposed to uphold the highest Christian values: our religious leaders and gospel musicians.

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Chivayo's story is emblematic of the rot that now threatens to consume the moral fiber of our churches.

He has been linked to questionable multi-million dollar public tenders and unexplained financial windfalls

This includes the recent case involving South African printing company Ren-Form CC, in which R800 million was transferred to his business accounts soon after the firm received R1.1 billion from Zimbabwe's Treasury for supplying election materials.

These revelations, confirmed by South African law enforcement authorities, are both serious and damning.

They point to a larger problem of high-level corruption, abuse of state funds, and the looting of public resources intended for the benefit of all Zimbabweans.

And yet, in the face of all this, we see church leaders and Christian musicians - those who should serve as the moral compass of the nation - not only accepting expensive gifts and large sums of money from Chivayo, but doing so without the slightest public concern about the source of his wealth.

Over the past few years, Chivayo has made headlines for showering prominent religious figures and gospel musicians with lavish donations.

Among those who have received his generosity are Prophet Ian Ndlovu, Archbishop Eunor Guti, Bishop Nehemiah Mutendi, Olivia Charamba, Mechanic Manyeruke, Dorcas Moyo, and Leonard Zhakata.

They take the luxury vehicles. They accept the envelopes of cash. They sing his praises from pulpits and stages, as though he were a saint.

Which begs the question: have our churches truly turned into sanctuaries for the corrupt?

Have we allowed sacred spaces to be used as laundering mechanisms - not for clothes, but for tainted reputations and questionable money?

This is more than just a question of optics or appearances.

It is a direct challenge to the very principles that Christian institutions are meant to embody.

The Church has always been regarded as the moral conscience of society, a refuge for the oppressed, and a fearless voice against injustice.

When it becomes silent - or worse, complicit - in the face of corruption, it ceases to be the Church in the truest sense of the word.

Why is it that those who are supposed to lead us in truth, who are meant to be torchbearers of integrity and spiritual purity, have now become accessories in the criminal enterprises of the elite?

Why are they more interested in aligning themselves with the powerful than standing with the powerless?

The Bible warns us that “the love of money is the root of all evil,” and nowhere is this more evident than in how our religious institutions have responded to the likes of Chivayo.

It is as if the lure of wealth - no matter how it is obtained - has overridden every scriptural commandment, every divine principle, and every ounce of common decency.

While I in no way condone Pablo Escobar's criminal empire, one must acknowledge a chilling irony when comparing his actions to those of people like Chivayo.

Escobar, a drug lord whose actions devastated communities through addiction and violence, nonetheless used a portion of his illicit fortune to build housing, schools, clinics, and soccer fields in impoverished areas of Colombia.

He supported families who had been abandoned by a corrupt and indifferent state.

As problematic as it was, his actions earned him the admiration of some in those communities who viewed him as a Robin Hood figure - a man who, however misguidedly, redistributed wealth in a way that visibly improved lives.

In contrast, Chivayo's actions, though clothed in the language of charity and generosity, serve a very different purpose.

He is not stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

He is part of a political and economic system that robs the poor and rewards the rich.

The fortunes he receives through state contracts and secretive deals do not translate into tangible benefits for suffering Zimbabweans.

Instead, these funds are used to purchase luxury vehicles for religious leaders and celebrities who are already living comfortably.

The ordinary people of Zimbabwe, those who are desperately in need of clinics, schools, cancer treatment machines, ambulances, and decent public infrastructure, continue to live in dire poverty.

What could R800 million (about US$44 million) have done for our country?

Just imagine the number of rural schools that could have been built and equipped with books, desks, and qualified teachers.

Imagine the hospitals that could have been supplied with essential medicines, the cancer and dialysis machines that could have saved lives, the maternity wards and operating theatres that could have brought safety and dignity to childbirth.

This is money that could have changed lives - real, meaningful, lasting change.

But instead, it is being used to polish the image of one man and his political benefactors, aided and abetted by the very people who should be preaching against this type of injustice.

Let us not be deceived: giving away stolen money does not make one a philanthropist.

It makes one a manipulator - someone who weaponizes wealth to silence critics, buy praise, and escape accountability.

What kind of philanthropist takes from the poor to give to the rich?

What kind of Christian accepts such gifts without asking where they come from?

As a devout Christian, I find this profoundly painful.

The Church, which should be a bastion of moral clarity, has become a stage for theatrics, hypocrisy, and indulgence.

The very people who should be raising the alarm are instead the ones benefitting from the system that continues to crush the downtrodden.

Are we not supposed to stand with the oppressed, to lift up the voiceless, and to speak out against injustice in all its forms?

That is what drives me in my work every single day.

I truly believe that it is Jehovah God's calling upon my life - to use my voice, my pen, and my platform to give the suffering people of Zimbabwe the voice they have been denied for far too long.

But how much more effective would our work be if we were joined by the Church?

Imagine the impact if pastors, bishops, and gospel musicians chose to stand with the people, instead of standing beside the looters of our nation's wealth.

It is time we asked ourselves: what image of Christianity are we portraying to the world?

Who would want to be part of a faith that aligns itself with greed, excess, and exploitation?

Are we not, through our silence and complicity, soiling the very image of Christ?

There is still time to correct course. But it will require honesty, humility, and courage.

It will mean rejecting blood money, however tempting.

It will mean speaking truth to power, even when it is uncomfortable.

It will mean remembering that the Church was never meant to serve Caesar - it was meant to serve God, and through Him, the people.

Let us cleanse the temple. Let us restore the Church. Let us be the voice of justice that Zimbabwe so desperately needs.

© Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofanatendairuben.news.blog/