Any Catholics in the room? Looking for a new route to sainthood? Well, allow me to introduce you to Floribert Bwana Chui — a young Congolese customs officer who said no to a bribe, yes to his Christian values, and ended up murdered mafia-style for it. 

You know, in a world where people accept bribes for things such as iron sheets or adding ghosts to the payroll, one young man in Congo decided he’d rather die than let rotten rice enter his country. Literally. I don’t know about you, but at 26, most of us are just trying to remember our email passwords or fake confidence in Zoom meetings. Floribert was out there defending national food safety.

In the early 2000s, while still an undergraduate, Floribert often supported street children by helping pay their school fees, providing food, and encouraging them to become self-reliant in a city where hardship was common. According to Fr Tedeschi, what stood out about Floribert was his deep concern for the lives of others and his habit of asking thoughtful questions to understand the root causes of poverty and misfortune. He wasn’t just a passive helper—he actively engaged in conversations, eager to confront and address the challenges people faced.

After graduating in 2006, Kositi trained as a customs official in Kinshasa and took a senior post at the Rwanda-DR Congo border in 2007. He discovered a shipment of about five tonnes of unsafe rice and ordered it destroyed. Despite smugglers trying to bribe and threaten him, he refused, guided by his Christian faith. He even consulted a nun doctor friend to understand the health risks and decided he could not accept money or allow poisoned food to harm people because of corruption.

Days later, he was kidnapped, tortured, and killed—mafia-style by the rebels, to send a message. It’s the kind of thing that would be terrifying in a movie, let alone real life. And yet, his story is barely talked about outside certain circles. No trending hashtags. No Netflix documentaries (yet). But earlier this year, the Catholic Church beatified him, declaring him a martyr, which is like spiritual MVP status, if you will. 

Now, before you start romanticizing struggle and martyrdom; this isn’t about glorifying pain. It’s about asking ourselves one uncomfortable question: Would we have done the same? I, like most people, have a severe attachment to life — I’m very much a fan of staying alive. So what would it really cost us to stand up for the truth, to risk comfort, safety, even reputation, for what’s right? Can we stay honest when no one’s watching? Can we speak up when silence would be easier?