His mates became priests in 2017: First pharmacist priest of Jasikan Diocese recalls his nine year wait

As he marks his first month in the sacred priesthood on August 25, 2026, Rev. Fr. Francis Selase Kuse reflects and shares on a vocational path unlike any other.

History was quietly made when Fr. Francis was ordained a diocesan priest for Catholic Diocese of Jasikan. A registered pharmacist with the Pharmacy Council of Ghana and an active member of the Pharmaceutical Society of Ghana since 2015, he is the first pharmacist to be ordained a priest in the Jasikan Diocese.

Growing up, young Francis never harbored childhood dreams of wearing the chasuble. Though born to active Catholics (his mother a catechist and his father a chorister), he wasn’t even allowed to become a Mass server until he entered St. Mary’s Seminary Secondary School, Lolobi (SMASCO).

It was there that a simple fascination with a priest’s alb sparked a deep attraction to the priesthood. So much so that he playfully added “alb” to his email address. But his path to the altar was destined to take a very unconventional detour.

The Bishop himself did not directly tell him that he was going to study Pharmacy. It all started when the then Vocations Director, Rev. Fr. Anselmus Mawusi, announced a bold plan by then-Bishop Gabriel A. A. Mante (now Emeritus).

The Bishop wanted to select seminarians to acquire professional degrees before completing their formation. The vision was to have professions as doctors, pharmacists, lawyers, engineers, and an architects. Francis was chosen for pharmacy.

“I did not fully understand the plan because I knew very little about the Pharmacy profession,” Fr. Francis recalls. With his heart set solely on the seminary, he initially resisted the idea of going to the university.
The turning point came when future Bishop Fr. Simon Kofi Appiah delivered a message so simple it dismantled all argument: “He is the Bishop, so you have to obey him.”

Transitioning to the Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology (KNUST) came with culture shock. Back at SMASCO, he had been a promising seminarian; suddenly, he was a university pharmacy student.
“People started telling others that I was a seminarian who had run away to the university,” he laughs.

He didn’t help the rumor mill either, often telling people, especially the ladies that he was a seminarian. Until a KNUST chaplain gently grounded him: “This is not the seminary” after he introduced himself to him the first time and said he was a seminarian.
Still, his heart never left the altar. He immersed himself in campus Catholic life, staying in a hostel at the chaplaincy, serving at the altar, joining the Legion of Mary, participating in the Sacred Heart devotion, and attending Mass about ten times a week.

When he finally returned to formal seminary formation at St. Paul’s Seminary, Sowutuom, and later St. Peter’s Seminary, Pedu, his professional background transformed his daily life. Seminary life was structured, but being a resident pharmacist made his days wonderfully unpredictable.

He could be called upon to handle a health issue at any time, so his room door was almost always unlocked. If he missed a social gathering, everyone assumed he was tending to someone in need. Rectors grew so accustomed to his medical availability that they would sometimes ask, “Who is sick?” rather than “Where is he?”

That constant availability led to a lighthearted moment he still smiles about. He shared that on one rare occasion when he was genuinely bedridden with illness, he stayed quiet in his room, and it took a little while for anyone to notice simply because they were so used to him being the one on his feet helping others! And while almost every seminarian knew him, many didn’t know his real name. They affectionately called him “Agbeve,” a nickname given by his classmates during his spiritual year.

Watching his peers get ordained years before him was emotionally testing. Those he started with at Pre-Philosophy were ordained in 2017, and he skipped his classmates’ ordinations because the emotional weight was too heavy.

Lucrative offers tempted him away; such as an opportunity at the Hohoe Municipal Hospital, or a pharmacy management position complete with a car and a three-bedroom apartment. But he stayed the course.
Over time, he came to understand that vocation is not a race. His waiting period took him to profound spiritual spaces like the Spiritual Renewal Centre at Kongo in the Navrongo-Bolgatanga Diocese.

Those years of waiting were actually years of deep formation, curing his shyness, building his public confidence, and preparing him for ministry.

When ordination day finally arrived, the emotional dam nearly broke. Remembering the texts from supportive friends telling him not to cry, he held back his tears during the procession. But beneath the stoicism was profound relief: “Finally, my parents and my loved ones will also have their peace of mind,” they can walk around freely without being asked about the cause of my delay” he thought. As the sixth of seven children raised alongside four sisters and two brothers, after the loss of an elder brother, he knew his family had carried heavy burdens through community speculations.

Seeing about 35 priests concelebrate at his first Mass was an overwhelming sign that his journey had truly touched many lives.

Today, Fr. Francis carries a deeply personal anchor in Scripture: John 3:27, “No one can receive anything except what has been given him from heaven.” The numbers hold a mystical weight in his story. The Gospel of John is the fourth, mirroring the four major phases of his journey: his initial journey, his university phase, his seminary phase, and his post-seminary phase. Meanwhile, the date March 27 ties together three cornerstones of his life: it’s the birthday of Sr. Esther Honugah, SMMC who has been like a mother accompanying him through almost every phase.

His niece, Emmanuella Opoku, born in 2009 just as his marathon journey began.
Fr. Samuel Kwarteng of the Cape Coast Archdiocese, who was his spiritual year roommate and roommate through major parts of his nine-year seminary journey (and wonderfully, their first Easter in the seminary fell on March 27!).

If an animal could summarize his path, it would be the tortoise. “It moves slowly, but it keeps moving,” he reflects. Looking back across his journey, from university lecture halls and clinic emergencies to the altar, Fr. Francis carries patience, endurance, hope, and complete trust in God. As St. Paul reminds us, hope does not disappoint (Romans 5:5). He may have arrived later than some of his mates, but he arrived precisely at the time God intended.

Fr. Francis is posted to work in the Christ the King Parish, Dambai, the Oti Regional Capital as a pharmacist. His work begins on 1st September, 2026.