CAGAYAN DE ORO, Philippines – The shadows of impunity loomed large in 2024, haunting survivors and emboldening figures like Apollo Quiboloy, the embattled preacher of the Davao-based Kingdom of Jesus Christ (KOJC). Yet, amid the challenges, the year also gave a semblance of victory for a small group of determined people who dared to confront power and seek justice.

This year, Quiboloy’s name continued to dominate headlines — not just for his detention on charges of sexual abuse and trafficking, but also for his audacious bid for a Senate seat, which fueled public discussions about the state of Philippine politics and the glaring gaps in holding influential figures to account.

In late 2021, three women spoke to Rappler, their voices trembling but firm, as they publicly denounced the influential doomsday preacher. The accounts of Arlene Caminong Stone, Faith Killion, and Reynita Fernandez unveiled a chilling portrait of alleged abuse, manipulation, and exploitation within the ranks of the influential religious organization.

At that time, theirs were voices crying out in the wilderness, drowned in a storm of backlash. The attacks were swift and unrelenting — a deluge of online vitriol designed to discredit the women and undermine their accusations. Yet, despite the systematic smear campaign, they stood their ground, united by a single purpose: to expose Quiboloy and his group.

Now, three years later, the three women’s ordeal is woven into the broader narrative of a society still wrestling with the grip of Quiboloy’s influence, a preacher whose long-standing friendship with ex-president Rodrigo Duterte casts a troubling pall over the country’s moral and political landscape.

Thirst for power

Despite being detained on charges of sexual abuse of a minor, child abuse, and human trafficking, Quiboloy showed that he remained undeterred in his quest for greater political power.

In October, a month after his dramatic arrest brought an end to weeks of tense standoff at the KOJC compound in Davao and a grueling four-month manhunt, Quiboloy wasted no time in pursuing his unquenchable thirst for influence. Undeterred by scandal or incarceration, he boldly filed his certificate of candidacy for a Senate seat, signaling his latest bid to entrench himself deeper into the corridors of political power.

The Commission on Elections (Comelec) subsequently included his name in its list of eligible aspirants, fueling concerns about accountability and the persistent grip of impunity in Philippine politics.

What continues to make Quiboloy such a controversial figure is the profound paradox he represents. On one hand, he presents himself as a servant of God, committed to spreading His word. On the other hand, Quiboloy leads a life marked by extreme wealth, surrounded by luxury and political power.

As Quiboloy pressed forward with his political ambitions, the voices of those who dared to speak out against him continued to echo with both defiance and pain. 

Hard and painful

For Minnesota-based Stone, 2024 has been a paradox — both a year of painful battles and meaningful victories.

“It’s been hard and painful, but for those seeking justice, it has been a very successful year,” said Stone, who once worked to raise funds for the KOJC for years.

She was eventually elevated as one of Quiboloy’s “pastorals,” a cadre of women selected for their proximity to power, tasked to serve as personal aides and perform menial household duties for the preacher.

It was Stone who first publicly exposed that some of these women were allegedly forced into “night duty,” a euphemism for being made to sleep with Quiboloy under the grotesque pretense of “body sacrifice.”

Stone’s advocacy has been marked by patience, but also frustration at the enduring grip of the past on many in the KOJC.

“It’s unfortunate that many are still in bondage — either tied to the past or unwilling to acknowledge their mistakes,” she told Rappler.

Long road ahead

Yet, while Stone sees 2024 as a turning point, Killion, still haunted by the trauma, sees the year as a painful glimpse of the long road ahead to justice. 

Stone said 2024 provided the first crucial turning point for those tirelessly seeking justice, as Quiboloy finally found himself in the grasp of authorities in September. She said Quiboloy’s arrest in the middle of a Senate panel inquiry into his and his group’s alleged excesses was a reckoning long overdue.

The legal battles surrounding Quiboloy showed no signs of abating, with mounting calls for his extradition to the United States.

Quiboloy has remained on the US Federal Bureau of Investigation’s most-wanted list since early 2022, following his indictment alongside several associates on an array of serious offenses. These include sex trafficking by force, fraud, and coercion; sex trafficking of children; marriage fraud; visa fraud and misuse; bulk cash smuggling; and multiple counts of money laundering involving promotional, concealment, and international schemes.

The US has yet to formally request the Philippine government to surrender Quiboloy.

Stone said extradition would be an important step toward justice. “The battle isn’t over. We are still waiting for Quiboloy to face his victims in a place where he has no political allies,” she said.

While their battle continues to unfold, Fernandez, the third whistleblower in 2021, chose a quieter path, showing the varying ways survivors cope with their trauma. Fernandez opted to remain silent and stay on the sidelines, but in a previous interview, the Singapore-based Fernandez discussed the trauma they endured online because of their decision to go public against Quiboloy.

Wounds still fresh

For Killion, who is based in Kentucky, the wounds remain fresh. “Justice hasn’t been served yet,” she said. “He hasn’t been sentenced, and the dust is far from settled.”

Killion has relieved her trauma in 2021 when she first stepped forward. “After our first interview, our personal lives were dissected, and our pasts were embellished. It was deeply traumatizing,” she recalled.

The online attacks, she said, didn’t just target her; they extended to her family, further fracturing already fragile relationships.

Her 67-year-old mother, a steadfast devotee of Quiboloy, now lies bedridden and paralyzed in Davao. Killion recounted that her mother’s final interaction with Quiboloy’s group happened two years ago when she gave them money sent from the US. Killion said she sent the funds for her mother’s sustenance, but it was ultimately diverted to the Quiboloy group’s coffers.

“I am grateful Quiboloy won’t convert future generations. But for the older ones, there is no recompense. All has been lost,” Killion said.

At 42, Killion said she is now rebuilding her life in the US. “I’ve finally started living the life I should’ve had at 25,” she said of her pursuit of a master’s degree, a stable career, and a fulfilling family life.

Glorified?

Stone and Killion said they recognized that their battle was far from over because Quiboloy, who once proclaimed himself to have a “glorified body,” continues to hold sway over his followers — people they know — despite visible signs of aging and illness at a detention facility.

Long before authorities closed in on him, Quiboloy’s group had been promoting the notion that the self-proclaimed “appointed son of God” had achieved a “glorified body,” a supposed divine state that enables him to walk through walls and teleport at will.

For the former KOJC workers, the frustration runs deep because despite Quiboloy’s detention, many of his adherents continue to cling to the belief in his supernatural powers.

Killion said the preacher’s incarceration has failed to shatter the cognitive dissonance that binds many of his followers to his cause, leaving the myth of his glorification intact and his influence unshaken.

Worth fighting for

Even as they await the outcome of Quiboloy’s cases, the scars of their experiences remain. “We’re still recovering,” Killion said.

As 2024 draws to a close, their continuing fight against Quiboloy serves as a reflection of the broader struggle for justice in the country. But for the women who dared to speak out, the year only proved that the quest for justice, while painful and slow, is worth pursuing.

Stone summed up the sentiment of many survivors: “Even when justice is served, the scars remain. But those scars are proof that we survived — and that we fought.” – Rappler.com