Top politicians visit Dini ya Msambwa founder’s grave but leave family to wallow in poverty

Elijah Masinde Wanameme

Every morning when Elijah Wafula, 77, wakes up, he heads to his father’s grave and gives it a good scrub.

He then lays out the visitors’ book on a stool at the corner of the room and delicately places a pen on it waiting for the day to break. 

This has been Wafula’s routine for more than decade now since the shrine was built to honour his father Elijah Masinde Wanameme – founder of Dini ya Msambwa church in Maeni, Bungoma County.

The shrine is the only beautiful thing that reminds them of Wanameme. The once revered ‘god’ whose history is shrouded in flowery myths, mystery and legends is now nothing but a distant memory awakened during the electoral season only to fizzle out as soon as politicians take office.

The loud drums and choreographed marching that defined his services at dini ya Msambwa has lost rhythm. Most of his followers joined mainstream churches, leaving only 40,000 from the 200,000 faithful he once commanded.

Cursed a shopkeeper

Those who remain recount the mysterious ways of their leader. The stories sound like well-crafted fiction; like how Wanameme, an avid football player in the Bukusu FC club once kicked a ball so high, it melted into the sky never to be seen again. Others define him as the great prophet who could cast spells on those who disobeyed him.

“Ask anyone in Kimilili about how Wanameme cursed a shopkeeper after an argument, and within a few hours, he was dead,” says Fred Omusula, a member of the sect.

The stories revolve around reverence and fear. Women talk of how they were so scared of him, that they would freeze and stop whenever he was passing. The fear, perhaps instilled by Wanameme who would whip women publicly whenever he felt they were going against God’s teachings.

“He hated indecency and immorality. He would get angry and beat people, but that was God working through him,” says one of his widows Gladys Nanjala.

His name might be losing place in religion, but in death he still maintains a powerful hold on Abaluhya politics. Wafula says since his father’s demise 30 years ago, their home has hosted top politicians who visit the shrine to beseech Wanameme’s spirit to intervene and grant them victory against their opponents.

The huge visitors’ book bearing signatures of top politicians like Raila Odinga, Rachel Shebesh, Kenneth Lusaka and Josphat Nanok tell of Wanameme’s relevance in Kenya’s political scene long after he died.

“A week does not pass without us getting an important visitor. Political season is the busiest,” he says.

Ironically, even though the founder of dini ya msambwa’s name is embedded in Kenya’s history as one of the men who founded an indigenous church, and one whose stand on colonialism was so aggressive, his family lives in abject poverty.

Nanjala says she cannot count the number of days they have gone hungry since their ‘god’ died. Their grass thatched houses are a sharp contrast to the elaborately decorated shrine built by the government a few meters away to honour Wanameme.

When the wind of campaigns starts blowing, and politicians throng their home desperately seeking blessings, they come bearing handouts and a promise to return once they are elected. They never do. “So many of them have looked at our state and told us they will build us a house when they get into power,” says Nanjala. She says there are many ‘brokers’ who take money from politicians and scholars who visit them but it never reaches the family.

However, neighbours taunt them, saying Wanameme’s family should get over the fame and accept that their ‘god’ is dead.

They accuse the family of depending on the man’s goodwill, forgetting that they need to work.

Nanjala refutes claims of laziness, saying even though one of their children has a job at the county government, his salary is not enough to take care of the many children Wanameme left behind.