Makandiwa, Chivayo and the million-dollar question: Has the pulpit lost its moral compass?

By Dr Sibangilizwe Moyo

There are moments when a sermon ceases to be merely a sermon. It becomes a mirror, an indictment and, sometimes, a test of whether the Church still possesses the moral courage to distinguish between righteousness and expediency.

When I heard Prophet Emmanuel Makandiwa speak about corruption in terms that appeared to distinguish between different levels of the vice, my mind went immediately to a startling moment in the ministry of Jesus Christ.

Peter had just made a profound declaration about Christ. Yet, moments later, when Peter attempted to divert Jesus from the path of suffering, Jesus turned to him and said: “Get thee behind me, Satan” (Matthew 16:23).

The lesson is uncomfortable but profound: a person can speak in the vicinity of Christ and yet, in a particular moment, articulate something profoundly contrary to the spirit of Christ.

That is why the pulpit must never become immune from scrutiny. The preacher is not the Gospel. The prophet is not Scripture. The cleric is not Christ. And the collar, robe, title or microphone does not confer infallibility.

What did Makandiwa actually say?

The controversy that erupted in October 2022 centred on a sermon by Makandiwa, founder of United Family International Church (UFIC), which circulated widely on social media.

According to contemporaneous reporting by NewsDay, Makandiwa said: “Corruption has different levels.”

He then offered a hypothetical example involving US$10 billion allocated for road construction: if US$5 billion were stolen while the remaining US$5 billion was used to construct the roads, he argued that this form of corruption was different from a situation in which the entire US$10 billion was squandered.

The remarks triggered strong criticism, with campaigners arguing that corruption could not be sanitised simply because part of the money was ultimately used for its intended purpose.New members who wish to receive reliable daily news updates from Ignite Media Zimbabwe should “follow” our channel on the link below:

The controversy was not merely about arithmetic. It was about morality. It was about what happens to a society when theft ceases to be called theft and begins to be described according to how much of the stolen wealth remains useful.

That is a dangerous road, and it becomes considerably more dangerous when such reasoning is heard from a pulpit. A stolen million does not become honest because a school was built with another million.

A bribe does not become righteous because the official eventually performs his statutory duty. A rigged tender does not become virtuous because the contractor completes the road. And theft does not become philanthropy because the thief leaves something behind.

But this was not the first time corruption had featured in Makandiwa’s preaching

There is an important historical nuance. In November 2013, during sermons entitled Unlocking Value, Makandiwa was reported as decrying the levels of corruption on the African continent.

A contemporary account published by New Zimbabwe said he observed that “everybody everywhere is fighting corruption and even the most corrupt people are fighting corruption”.

The sermons were delivered on 19 and 26 November 2013 during Partners Services. Almost nine years later, the 2022 remarks produced a very different public reaction.

The issue is not whether a preacher may distinguish between different manifestations or degrees of corruption. Of course corruption can vary in scale, method, sophistication and social consequence.

A petty bribe and the systematic looting of billions are not identical in their economic impact. But there is a fundamental distinction between describing different magnitudes of wrongdoing and creating moral categories in which wrongdoing becomes tolerable because somebody else benefited from the residue.

That distinction matters enormously. Once the moral imagination begins to accommodate corruption as long as “something useful” remains, the boundary between describing corruption and rationalising it becomes dangerously thin.

The million-dollar question

The debate acquired a new and extraordinary dimension in 2026. It is important to get the chronology right because the sequence matters. In June 2026, businessman Wicknell Chivayo publicly disclosed that Makandiwa and his wife, Ruth, had initially declined a gift he had offered them.

Makandiwa subsequently explained that his initial refusal had been based on principle rather than the public criticism surrounding Chivayo.

By 27 July, however, Makandiwa had changed his position and told his congregation that he would accept the gift, saying that the gifts were still available and that he was the one who had not yet collected them. He said they would receive the gifts, pray for Chivayo and bless him.

On 2 August, Chivayo announced that he was donating US$1 million towards the development of UFIC, describing the gift as support for the construction and development of the church rather than a personal payment to Makandiwa.

He also announced luxury vehicles for Makandiwa and his wife. A week later, on 9 August, Makandiwa publicly displayed the US$1 million in cash before his congregation. Twenty plastic-wrapped bundles of US$100 notes were placed before the assembled worshippers, who responded with cheers, whistles and applause.

Makandiwa described the event as “a prophecy” and told congregants: “The next bag is coming from you to the altar.”

That sequence deserves serious reflection, but it also requires intellectual honesty. There is no judicial finding establishing that the US$1 million donated to UFIC was the proceeds of corruption or crime.

Chivayo has denied corruption, money laundering, influence-peddling and other wrongdoing, and maintains that his wealth derives from legitimate business activities.

The fact that his wealth and public contracts have attracted scrutiny does not, by itself, prove that this particular donation was illegally obtained. Therefore, the ethical question should not be framed as an established allegation that Makandiwa accepted “corrupt money”.

The proper question is whether an institution claiming enormous spiritual and moral authority should subject an extraordinary gift of this magnitude to equally extraordinary standards of transparency, accountability and due diligence.

Then came the remarks about corruption

It is against that background that Makandiwa’s subsequent September remarks acquire their particular significance.

On 14 September 2026, Nehanda Radio reported that Makandiwa had defended the accumulation of substantial wealth by political leaders, questioning why a president should be expected to own only one house or one farm.

He also spoke about corruption as a phenomenon that exists everywhere and connected its universality with humanity’s sinful nature and the reason Jesus Christ came.

The timing is therefore important. The US$1 million was publicly displayed in August; the remarks about wealth and the universality of corruption were reported in September. The two events should not be collapsed into one, but neither should the chronology be ignored.

Nehanda Radio itself noted that the later comments could be interpreted as an indirect defence of Chivayo, while also acknowledging that Makandiwa did not mention Chivayo by name and did not explicitly connect his comments to the donation.

That interpretation therefore belongs to critics and observers; it should not be presented as proof of Makandiwa’s motive.

Yet the ethical question remains. When an influential religious leader has just accepted and publicly celebrated an extraordinary financial gift, and subsequently speaks about the normality of extensive wealth and the universality of corruption, should society not pause and interrogate the message?New members who wish to receive reliable daily news updates from Ignite Media Zimbabwe should “follow” our channel on the link below:

The issue is not whether owning several houses or farms is inherently corrupt. It is not. Nor is wealth itself proof of wrongdoing. The real question is how wealth is acquired, whether public resources have been abused, whether obligations have been met, and whether institutions possessing moral authority are prepared to ask those questions of themselves and their benefactors.

Jesus came because corruption is everywhere — but what follows?

This is perhaps the most important theological point in the entire controversy. Christianity does teach that human beings are sinful and that Christ came to redeem humanity.

But the Gospel does not say: “Because corruption is everywhere, therefore do not ask questions about corruption.” It says almost the opposite. The recognition of human sinfulness is supposed to produce repentance, accountability and transformation.

Jesus did not encounter Zacchaeus, the corrupt tax collector, and tell him that corruption was simply a universal feature of humanity and therefore nothing could be done about it.

Zacchaeus responded to Christ by confronting the consequences of his own conduct. He pledged to restore what he had taken unjustly. The encounter with Christ produced restitution, not rationalisation.

That is the theological distinction we must not lose. The universality of sin is not an exemption from moral accountability. It is the reason accountability is necessary. To say that corruption exists everywhere may be sociologically true.

To use its universality to blunt moral outrage is an entirely different proposition. If everyone is corrupt, the Christian response cannot be resignation. It must be repentance.

Jesus did not come because corruption was inevitable; He came because humanity needed redemption from sin. That redemption was never intended to become a theological licence for tolerating the very conduct from which humanity was supposed to be redeemed.

The greater scandal is not one sermon

It would be too easy to make Makandiwa the entire story. He is not. The deeper crisis is the society that makes such arguments possible — and the religious culture that can sometimes absorb them without sufficient resistance.

The real scandal is that corruption has become normalised in so many spheres of public and private life that people increasingly judge it not by the question, “Is it right?”, but by the question, “How much did you get?”

This is moral collapse masquerading as pragmatism. We have created a society in which the successful corrupt person can command greater admiration than the honest person who struggles.

The man who acquires a fleet of expensive vehicles through dubious means is celebrated as a “hustler”. The woman who obtains a lucrative contract through connections is described as “well connected”.

The official who manipulates public resources is praised for being “clever”. The businessman who evades his obligations is admired for knowing “how the system works”. And the whistle-blower is often treated as troublesome.

This is how decadence advances. It does not always arrive wearing the uniform of evil. Sometimes it arrives wearing a designer suit. Sometimes it arrives in a government convoy.

Sometimes it arrives in a boardroom. And sometimes — most dangerously of all — it arrives behind a pulpit.

When the Church becomes part of the marketplace