In a nation where faith leaders are often revered as moral compasses and community anchors, the recent charges against Pastor Jenkins Johnson, General Overseer of the More Changes Ministry, strike a painful chord. Brought before the Monrovia City Court on allegations of sexual violence, domestic abuse, and persistent non-support, Pastor Johnson now stands at the center of a legal and moral reckoning that transcends his individual case.According to court filings, his wife, Margret M. Johnson, alleges a pattern of physical assault, forced sexual acts, and financial abandonment—claims that, if proven, reveal not only personal betrayal but institutional hypocrisy. The accusations are harrowing: beatings, non-consensual anal intercourse, and the indignity of cohabiting with another woman under the same roof while neglecting the welfare of their three children. These are not mere marital disputes—they are violations of human dignity and the rule of law.
What makes this case particularly disturbing is its recurrence. Just a week prior, Pastor Johnson was charged with kidnapping and criminal conspiracy in a separate matter involving a teenage boy and a romantic entanglement with the boy’s mother. The allegations suggest a troubling pattern of manipulation, abuse of trust, and disregard for familial sanctity.
The question must be asked: How did we get here?
How does a man entrusted with spiritual leadership become the subject of such grave accusations? How do institutions—religious or otherwise—fail to detect, prevent, or respond to such misconduct until it reaches the courtroom?
This is not merely about one pastor. It is about the systems that shield abusers behind titles, robes, and pulpits. It is about the silence that surrounds domestic violence in religious households. It is about the children whose school fees go unpaid while their father preaches prosperity. And it is about the women—like Mrs. Johnson—who endure trauma in silence until the law becomes their last resort.
We must demand more from our institutions.
Churches must establish internal accountability mechanisms that go beyond spiritual platitudes. Religious leaders must be held to the same—if not higher—standards of conduct as public officials. And the justice system must treat cases involving clergy with the same rigor and impartiality as any other.
This case is a test of Liberia’s commitment to justice, gender protection, and institutional integrity. It is a moment for civil society, religious councils, and legal advocates to rally—not just around Mrs. Johnson, but around every silent victim whose abuser hides behind a holy title.
Let us be clear: forgiveness is a spiritual virtue, but accountability is a civic duty. The pulpit must never become a shield for impunity.
Justice must be done—and seen to be done—not just for the sake of one family, but for the soul of a nation.
