On Friday November 10, 1995, the Nigerian military government went ahead to execute the death sentence passed on Ken Saro-Wiwa and eight other leaders of the Movement for the Survival of Ogoni People (MOSOP), amidst international outcry over the nature of the murder charges, the manner of their trial and conviction, and the subsequent sentence to death by hanging of the victims. The global community has expressed outrage at the insensitivity of the Nigerian government to the plea for a stay of execution of the death sentence that came from reputable international figures, governments, and such Organisations as the Commonwealth of Nations.

British Prime Minister John Major observed that the case of Ken Saro-Wiwa and his group was that of "a fraudulent trial, a bad verdict, an unjust sentence, followed by a judicial murder." A United States government spokesman said the execution was "a heinous act that offends our values." The U.N. Security Council that was meeting in New York at the time of the execution issued a statement in which they called the execution a "callous act." For Emeka Anyaoku, Commonwealth Secretary General, it was a display by the Nigerian military of contempt for the principles of legality and democracy. Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe said he was full of disgust. He said the execution was the act of a government that is "inexorably set on the cause of self-destruction." Nelson Mandela of South Africa said the execution in spite of mounting pressures from the international community "is a slap in the face of world leaders." And the leaders of the Commonwealth of Nations meeting in New Zealand immediately took an action that is unprecedented in the history of the Organisation: They resolved to suspend Nigeria from the group, pending the return of the country to democratic governance and the rule of law.

My brothers and sisters in Christ, this event presents an occasion for sober reflection on the path our nation has chosen for resolving our internal conflicts. We are once again confronted with the case of vengeance and the moral propriety of capital punishment. While reflecting here on the public execution by firing squad of the 43 convicted armed robbers in July 1995, I maintained  that capital punishment was unacceptable for a Christian who believes in the dignity and inviolability of every human person, irrespective of the spiritual or moral condition of the person. Using the passages of Mt.5:7; Mt.6:19; Mt.7:12; Mt.18:35; Lk.6:36; and Jn.8:7, I explained  explained the position of the Catholic Church and of Pope John Paul II on capital punishment. I quoted the Pope as saying that the greatest weakness of the world today is its lack of mercy, and that "a world without forgiveness will be a cold world of permanent tension, strife and violence." I explained that violence does not cure violence, and blood cannot be used to cleanse blood. I pointed out that the civilized world is moving away from the primitive practice of summarily terminating the lives of those found guilty of violent crimes against society.

Above all in my reflection on capital punishment, I reminded my listeners that as Christians they were to have nothing to do with vengeance, but that capital punishment is the most profound expression of revenge and the refusal to forgive. I explained that a society that resorts to capital punishment is telling the rest of the world that they are an unforgiving race, that they are a vengeful generation. I said that when we resort to capital punishment we are saying that we do not understand the logic of forgiveness which is the principal condition for admission into the Kingdom of God. When we resort to capital punishment we are saying that we God's mercy can go to blazes, that we will deal with our problem in our own way, in the way of revenge. Whereas Jesus Christ preached forgiveness, when we resort to capital punishment, we glorify vengeance.

After preaching here, I published these reflections in various Newspapers, but it appears that no one is listening. God has been so merciful to Nigeria, yet by these acts of violence, our leaders appear determined to drag the country along the path of self-destruction. By remaining insensitive and impervious to world opinion, our leaders seem to be engaged in a dance of death. But the truth of Christ must be told at all times. In season and out of season. Welcome or unwelcome. The truth must be told.

Brothers and Sisters, today I want to dissociate myself from the crimes that have invited such international outrage as we have witnessed in the last few days. Though I am a citizen of Nigeria, I want to dissociate myself from the atrocities in the land that have made our country a pariah in the comity of nations. Though Nigeria is my fatherland, I want to denounce the multitude of illegalities that have made our country an isolated entity. I want the world to know that not every Nigerian has been bewitched or demonized during these times. I want the world to know that not every Nigerian consents to the callous rape and the gruesome murder that take place in the land.

Let it go down in history that when the criminal waste of human lives was going on in our land, I saw it, and I did not keep silent. I did not renounce my calling as a disciple of truth. Let the rising generation take note that when the reckless plunder of our human and natural resources was going on, I saw it, and I did not keep silent. I did not forsake my Christian responsibility as the salt of earth and the light of the world. Let the children of tomorrow be told that when the culpable devastation of God's creation was going on, I saw it, and I did not acquiesce. No, not for one day. I cried and groaned for all I was worth when the rape was on. I agonized in private and lamented in public while the looting lasted. The survivors of the holocaust must know that while the eclipse of reason on our national landscape lasted, I did not keep silent. No, not for one day. I cried out from the pulpit. I groaned in the classroom. I lamented on the pages of Newspapers. I agonized in friendly letters. And I protested in casual conversations. I did not keep silent.

I saw the handwriting on the wall early enough and I shouted, but no one heard my faint voice. I saw the dark clouds over the horizon long before the onset of the deluge, and I cried out with all my strength, but no one took note. I saw the whirlwind in its infancy while it was yet gathering the destructive missiles, and I screamed, but no one heeded. I saw the eye of the vicious storm long before the devastation matured, and I groaned, but no one answered. I saw the onset of sunset at noon and I queried, but no one responded. Yes, I saw through the opaque window that aided the mischief, and I was convinced early enough that the superstructure in which our leaders relish is a pack of cards destined to crumble. I sent out an alarm in angry desperation, but no one cared.

Let it be noted for posterity that as a Christian I did not surrender to apathy nor submit to despondency when the Grand Inquisitor bestrode the land and paved our highways red with blood. Let the children of tomorrow be told that I did not acquiesce to the callous act of rape on the lowly inhabitants of our land. Let the rising generation be told that I did not partake in the damnable conspiracy to exchange the poor for a pair of sandals, and sell the children into perpetual slavery. Let them know that I was not an accomplice in the crimes that have wiped out joy from the surface of the land and spread misery in its place. Let future generations of Nigerians know that I did not consent to the crimes, nor did I sit on the fence when the devastation was taking place. Let them know that I vehemently resisted the death-wish that ruled the land during these times. Let them know that I consistently rejected the dance of death that was the vogue in the land. Yes, let them know that with all the moral and spiritual force at my disposal, I resisted the attraction of the sordid pleasure offered by the gladiators.

I should be counted out of that strange crowd which engaged in the sanguine festival that condemned the multitude to a prolonged nightmare. Yes, count me out of that thoughtless band that hailed and acclaimed the Inquisitor, for while the feast of fools lasted I was on hunger strike. Count me out of that wild party that was entangled in a show of shame, for while the tragic drama lasted I looked on in utter disgust. Count me out of that miserable troop whose dance steps were those of despair, for while they prostrated before the gladiators and offered incense to the Inquisitor, I boiled with righteous indignation. Count me out of the fools' paradise in which my generation relished, for while they bore their banners and staged their rallies, I was sick with contempt. Yes, count me out, for I was sick of the rot that led to the progressive degeneration of the land. I was nauseated by the foul smell of the decaying blood of the innocent that flowed through the land. I was constipated by the mischief that pitched brother against brother and spread the culture of violence like a poisonous venom across the land.

I want to declare before the rising generation that I did not cast my vote for the entrenchment of jungle justice. I did not partake in mortgaging the rule of law and sitting justice on its head. I did not subscribe to the logic of using blood to cleanse blood from the land. I did not share in acclaiming the triumph of the villain. I did not enlist with the storm-troops when the drafting was on. I did not accept to be an instrument of the occupation force. Instead I prayed ceaselessly that the mercenaries may be converted into patriots, and that the gladiators may be transformed into democrats.

Let the survivors of Nigeria's political profligacy listen to my complain. Let the survivors of Nigeria's economic debauchery give an ear to my defence. Let the survivors of our fraudulent trials and judicial murders take my submission seriously. Let the survivors of the Nigeria's collective death-wish pay attention to my plea for innocence. When the curtains are finally drawn and the masks are down; when the dust finally settles and the scales fall off the eyes of all; ah yes, when the darkness is dislodged and justice ascends the throne, I should not be found on the wrong side of the great divide. When the abused children of today sit in judgement against a callous adult generation that contrived misery and stole away the future from their hands, I should not be made to stand in the dock. When the impoverished children of today finally shake off their shackles and climb the bench, I should not be compelled to answer fatal questions. For when the mess was going on, I did not keep silent.

My brothers and sisters in Christ, today's first reading from the book of Maccabees (7:1-2,9-14), presents the story of the seven Maccabean brothers and their mother who stood firmly on the side of truth in the face of persecution. They suffered the pain of violent death and embraced martyrdom rather than defile themselves with the worship of strange gods. They said to their persecutors: "We are prepared to die rather than break the laws of our ancestors." As they died they hoped and believed that the King of the world will raise them up again, but this time to a more glorious life.

This is a great lesson in Christian hope and courage in the midst of suffering. Many Nigerian Christians are suffering today because they want to maintain some moral principles and live by their Christian values. May the promise of the Resurrection which gave the Maccabean brothers the heroic courage to choose death rather than defile themselves with falsehood, may it be our source of hope and strength as we go through these harsh times. May the Lord grant the entire Christian Church in Nigeria the wisdom and courage to speak with one voice on issues of truth and justice during these trying times.

November 1995