When One Priest Is Taken, the Whole Presbytery Feels It!

The day a man is ordained, something funny happens. His phone never stops ringing again. Suddenly he has brothers everywhere. In villages he has never visited. In dioceses he cannot pronounce properly. That is priesthood. Not a club, not a job, but a worldwide brotherhood stitched together by oil, vows, and shared suffering. So when one priest is picked, bundled, and driven off into the unknown, the rest of us don’t ask, “Who?” We ask, “Where?”

That is why we are crying today.

We heard the official announcement: “We have him in our custody.” Honestly, thank you for that clarity. At least now we know he is not in outer space. But custody alone is not justice. Custody is just a waiting room. Court is where justice actually shows up.

Let him be produced. Let charges be read. Let him answer. That is not rebellion. That is basic law. Even the Bible, long before constitutions, insisted on fairness. “Hear the cases between your brothers, and judge fairly… show no partiality” (Deuteronomy 1:16–17). God Himself does not like shortcuts.

And please forgive us for smiling sadly at the drama. Masks on faces. Number plates hidden like they are shy. A quick transfer in a “drone” to an undisclosed location. If the law is confident, why all the hide-and-seek? Ugandans know criminals run away from the law, not the law running like a suspect.

Here is the simple thing that hurts most. Priests are not orphans. We have bishops. We have structures. If someone believes a law has been broken, the Church has doors. Knock. Talk. Engage. Even the Uganda Police Act and long-standing practice encourage cooperation with institutions, not midnight-style operations. Law works best when it walks in daylight.

Let us speak law plainly. The Constitution of Uganda, Article 23, is very clear. A person arrested must be informed immediately of the reason for arrest and must be brought before a competent court within 48 hours. Not 49. Not “when investigations are complete.” Forty-eight hours. Detention without trial is not firmness. It is illegality wearing boots.

Article 28 goes further and says every person is entitled to a fair, speedy, and public hearing. Public, not mysterious. Speedy, not endless detention. Fair, not fearful. These are not favors from the state. They are rights guaranteed by law.

Now let me be very clear, before anyone sharpens their pens. We are not saying our brother is innocent. Saints go to heaven, not police stations. If he committed a crime, let evidence speak. Let witnesses speak. Let the court speak. Even Jesus was presented before authorities, unfair as it was. But even then, Pilate had to sit on a judgment seat.

What worries us is the habit of detention replacing trial. Detention is lazy justice. It avoids proof. It avoids accountability. And history has never been kind to governments that treat religious leaders as problems to be disappeared rather than citizens to be tried.

Ask Rome. The Roman Empire tried to silence Christians with prisons and lions. The Empire is now a museum. The Church is still here, ringing bells. Ask revolutionary France. Ask communist regimes in Eastern Europe. They jailed priests, closed churches, mocked faith. The regimes collapsed. Faith buried them quietly and moved on. As one historian joked, “The Church has outlived many governments. She knows how to wait.”

A priest is not a wizard, but Scripture gives him a strange responsibility. “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained” (John 20:23). That authority is not arrogance. It is burden. And when such a man is handled carelessly, the people he serves feel attacked, confused, and wounded.

So please, understand us well. We are not threatening curses. We are not chanting slogans. We are crying for our brother. Crying with law books in our hands and Scripture in our hearts.

Bring him to court. Let justice walk instead of drive at night. Let truth speak without masks. That is all we ask.

Today, priests cry. Not against the state. But for justice.

Fr Dr Henry Nganda Sserwaniko