This archive report was first published on 25 November 2019.
Published on November 25, 2019, by Cellestine Olilo
James Ng'ang'a, popularly known as Pastor Ng'ang'a, is a televangelist with a reputation for controversy. His church, the Neno Evangelism Centre, is located in Nairobi's CBD on Haile Selassie Avenue and is packed with worshippers every Sunday.
However, beneath the surface of his charismatic sermons and theatrics lies a history of abuse and ungodly behavior. In August 2019, male congregants from his church accused Pastor Ng'ang'a of using abusive and demeaning words to refer to them, calling them 'cows' and implying they were foolish.
Three years ago, Pastor Ng'ang'a was charged with dangerous driving after his car collided with another at Manguo, Limuru, killing Mercy Njeri, a passenger in the vehicle. He denied culpability and was later acquitted, sparking anger among Kenyans who accused police of bungling the case.
That same year, his estranged wife, Ms Loise Murugi, sued him for full custody of their child, citing infidelity, drunkenness, and abuse. In court documents, Ms Murugi stated that Pastor Ng'ang'a was a drunkard and very abusive towards her, to the extent of insulting her parents.
Despite his ungodly behavior, Pastor Ng'ang'a's church remains popular, with worshippers eager to feed on his sermons. But what keeps Kenyans trooping to his church? Is it the theatrics or do they really believe that he is a man of God with all the answers to their problems?
Our team attended his service last Sunday, which turned out to be a day-long ceremony where worshippers are not allowed to leave before the service is over. And certainly not before the offering.
Inside the church, the place was brightly lit, with seven TV screens facing every direction, ostensibly to ensure that no one missed the sermon. Along the walls were huge banners written 'the holy spirit is on duty now' in bold letters and bright colours.
As we lingered a few steps away from the entrance looking around, wondering where to sit, a young woman, one of the many ushers, approached us and gestured up the stairs. When we asked her to help us find a seat on the ground floor, preferably close to the pastor, she made a tight fist with her right hand and brought it against her left palm. The lower deck was full.
