There was that moment you might have seen it scroll past on your phone, nestled between wedding photos and heated comment threads where Pastor Matthew Ashimolowo walked down the aisle, robe flowing, bible in hand, blessing the union of fellow clergyman Pastor Chris Okafor and his bride, Pearl. Wedding bells, confetti, smiling faces. Yet instead of applause, a crescendo of criticism rose almost instantly: “How could he?” people began to ask. Why would a respected figure in global Pentecostal circles lend his voice, his dignity, to a wedding clouded by unresolved allegations?
As a lifelong observer of religious life in Nigeria and beyond, I felt a pull in my chest reading the reactions. Because on the one hand, weddings are traditionally sacrosanct moments of hope, family, new beginnings. On the other, so many voices on social media and beyond are crying foul, asking an uncomfortable question: Has the church forgotten how to hold its leaders to account? I will try to answer that honestly without judgment, but with attention to how this moment feels in real people’s bones.
Let us start with what happened: Pastor Chris Okafor, leader of the Mountain of Liberation and Miracle Ministry, married his partner, Pearl, in Lekki, Lagos, last week. Images from both the traditional and white wedding ceremonies filled timelines, smiling families, friends, and yes, big-name preachers in attendance. Among them, Matthew Ashimolowo, the globally known senior pastor of Kingsway International Christian Centre (KICC).
But the celebrations did not erase a storm. They lit it.
The controversy erupted online primarily because of unresolved allegations made by Nollywood actress Doris Ogala. Ogala says she was in a long-term relationship with Okafor for nine years, she claims, and that he had promised marriage before suddenly announcing his wedding to someone else. The emotional depth of her posts, videos, and claims touched many, and they raised uncomfortable questions about the pastor’s character and credibility long before the wedding bells rang.
The backlash to Ashimolowo’s appearance did not come from a single corner. One powerful voice was Dr. Charles Apoki, a fellow Christian leader who publicly condemned Ashimolowo’s decision to officiate. “I am ashamed of you,” Apoki said in a viral video, questioning what ethical message is sent when a prominent pastor blesses a ceremony amid public allegations. His words sharp, direct, unsettling, echoed many onlookers’ unease.
Apoki did not mince words. He argued that religious leaders must be mindful of the moral signals they send, especially when matters of integrity and accountability are at stake. He invoked biblical tales of moral failings to underline his point, and even drew parallels with African cultural practices that traditionally kept alleged wrongdoers at a respectful distance.
And then there were the social media conversations: people debating not just the specifics of this wedding, but the broader culture of celebrity pastors, power, and grace. Does grace mean overlooking everything? Or is there a line that should not be crossed? And if someone in the pulpit crosses it, how should the church respond?
Matthew Ashimolowo is not a small name. He has shepherded congregations around the world, preached in television broadcasts, and for years carried an image of spiritual authority and moral leadership steeped in both Western and African contexts.
So when he steps into the spotlight of controversy, even if indirectly, the reaction is louder. It is almost as if people felt betrayed, not just by the decision, but by what it represented: that church leaders might shield or elevate one of their own, even when the public sees unresolved, troubling claims.
And yet, here is the nuance: officiating a wedding is not, in itself, a legal judgment. Pastors are not judges. But in the court of public opinion, actions speak loudly. They signal values, priorities, and, for many, hints of what the church truly holds dear.
Let’s not pretend this controversy is black and white. There are voices defending Chris Okafor too. Some close to him dismissed allegations as baseless, insisting the wedding was peaceful and well-attended, and that critics are merely trying to tarnish his milestone.
And in the swirl of claims from broken promises to leaked photos to threats of legal action, there is a very real human cost. People are hurt on all sides. I have read comments from women and men saying they feel this reflects a broader crisis of trust in institutions that should, ideally, protect the vulnerable. But as just as Joe Tiza once said;
When a preacher with a global platform stands beside a colleague under fire, some see loyalty. Others see complicity.
Joe Tiza
The hash truth is this, there will be more videos, more statements, more hashtags. But what may matter most is this simple, human question of; how do we shepherd truth and grace together without sacrificing either?
