Dear Editor, EFKS members, and leaders,

I write once more not as an outsider, but as someone formed by the heartbeat of the Ekalesia Faapotopotoga Kerisiano i Samoa (EFKS). 

This church has been my spiritual home for as long as I can remember; shaping my childhood, anchoring my Sundays, and surrounding my family with its traditions and teachings. EFKS is not just where I worship; it’s part of who I am.

My previous letter stirred something. I knew it might, but I didn’t expect the depth of emotion it would uncover. Some readers told me they cried reading it; not out of anger, but because it voiced a quiet truth they had carried for years. Others felt disappointed, even betrayed, wondering why I chose to speak out publicly. Some reminded me of all the good the church has done. Why focus on the problems?
I hear all of it. And I take none of it lightly.

That letter was not born from bitterness. It was born from love. And perhaps love sometimes means stepping into uncomfortable spaces; not to tear down, but to hold up a mirror and ask, “Is this still who we want to be?”

Some have pointed out the risk of airing concerns in public. I understand that fear. In our culture, silence often feels safer than honesty. But if our church is built on truth, it should never fear sincere questions. A church secure in its foundation does not crumble when its people cry out; it listens. It reflects. It returns, again and again, to Christ.

My reflections came from what I’ve seen and felt, not once, but over years. Families stretching beyond their means to meet expectations. Leaders burdened by image. Communities trying to reconcile faith with hardship. These truths don’t erase the love or goodness in EFKS; they exist alongside them. And I believe we are strong enough to hold that tension.

To those who felt hurt or judged by my words: that was never my intention. I know there are many faifeau and leaders who live with integrity, humility, and deep compassion. I know EFKS has changed countless lives for the better; including mine. That first letter wasn’t an attack. It was a lament.

I still believe in this church. That’s why I remain within it, and why I choose to speak. Not to divide, but to seek healing. Not to attack, but to ask: can we do better?

I believe we can. And so I don’t end with demands, but with an open hand. May we continue to listen; not just to respond, but to understand. May we offer one another the grace to speak freely. And the courage to hear hard truths spoken in love.
May our churches become places where honesty is welcomed, where growth is nurtured, and where the deep, abiding love of Christ is not only preached; but practiced.

Let this not be the closing of a conversation, but the beginning of one.

With hope and love still,
A devoted EFKS member who chooses to stay and speak