I was born into a family of loyal members of the Anglican Church in Kenya. Most of my childhood was spent in a rural village near Lake Victoria. I was actively involved in the local Anglican Church.
As a young man, I went to Nairobi to look for work. I continued to attend the Anglican Church until a voice inside me began to say that I was not being taught correctly. There were several reasons. First, the teaching was not in the spirit of the Bible, and the church members were not allowed to read the Bible. Secondly, the church was always talking about giving and justifying it with biblical phrases. I found it sad that everyone, even widows, was pressured to donate money to the church.
Thirdly, when the husband of a woman who was a member of the church took a second wife — which is normal in our culture — the first wife was no longer allowed to go to church either. I thought it was cruel to punish that woman for another’s sin. Furthermore, the church officials could not reliably prove what the money they had collected had been used for. The church members began to complain. I left the church and started looking for the right teaching.
Church after church I drifted further away
I joined another church, where I stayed for a year. There, they always asked those who had sinned during the week to come to the front of the church, where they were prayed for. Feeling I had been sinning for a long time, I joined the group. After the prayer, I felt nothing at all. I left the church feeling hopeless. My heart was longing for something, but I didn’t even understand what it was. Under the burden of my sin, I felt lonely and desperate.
I went to the third church, where the church officials asked for donations for the priest’s new car, even though 80% of the congregation did not own a car themselves. Singing in church was like disco music, and the program of services was strictly regulated. Only the priest and choir members were allowed to sing. When one of the elders of the congregation was given the floor, he asked people to help the priest and his family.
I went to a fourth church, founded by a single person, called Jesus Revival Church. They had big instruments, and the bass was loud. Sometimes it was hard to hear the voice of the bishop preaching — it resembled political campaigning. One board member had a falling out with the church leader and started his own church. I was sad and couldn’t go to any church anymore. My family began to question why I was going from church to church. They accused me of not being loyal to the Anglican Church and wondered what was wrong with me.
I couldn’t answer them, because all I felt was hopelessness, tiredness, and sinfulness. I would have liked to ask my mother to forgive me for all the pain I had caused her as a child and young man. For example, I had lost a goat and lied about it being lost in the bushes, when in fact it had disappeared while I was swimming with my friends. These and other lies still weighed on my mind as an adult, and I felt like a great sinner. My life was full of secrets, and I felt I needed guidance on how to approach my parents, tell them about my wrongdoing, and ask for forgiveness. The church did not teach me any way to approach them.
“These guests are men of God”
I got a job at a health centre and became friends with a polite and sensible man, Leonard Apond. He was a Catholic and worked as a nursing assistant. He was lucky enough to get a student exchange to Finland. When he returned, he began to receive white visitors. One day, I asked him about those visitors, and he promised to tell me the next time they came.
On 22 February 2003, Leonard asked me to go with him. We took a bus to the Wab Hotel, which was located east of Nairobi in the Buru Buru area. Leonard told me: “Samuel, I tell you that these guests are men of God.” We went into the hotel room, where there were two white men. They stood up and we greeted each other. They were Finns, named Olavi and Jouko.
Then the services began, with the three of us — Leonard, his brother Michael, and me — in the audience. At the beginning of the services, we sang. Then Olavi preached about how Jesus healed the ten lepers (Luke 17:11-19). After the sermon, we sang again, and then Jouko spoke about the repentance of Cornelius (Acts 10). After the sermons, we talked about the gift of faith, the forgiveness of sins, and struggling as believers.
During that conversation, I received the grace of repentance. I had come to the services in unbelief, but now I promised to believe. I felt as if I had arrived after a long, long journey to a place where the host of the house warmly welcomes me, offers me tea, a good meal, and a refreshing shower, and then invites me to relax. I felt renewed. I understood the faith, I understood the gospel, and I had been forgiven of my sins. I had finally found what I had been looking for: the Kingdom of God.
Hard trials
By God’s grace, here in Kenya we have been able to preach repentance and forgiveness of sins to many of our relatives and friends. Many have believed, and we have established church after church — especially in Nairobi, but also in other parts of the country. Our lives have changed so much. Wherever we have gone, neighbours have asked why we are different from other people.
But the difficulties did not end there. I lost my one-year-old child right after I received the grace of repentance. He fell ill and died on the way to the hospital. My wife became pregnant again immediately afterwards, and we had the joy of a healthy baby. When the child was six months old, I quit the health centre because of unpaid salaries and other problems. Then my wife’s sister died. I gave our little savings to my wife so that she could take part in her sister’s funeral with our child.
She stayed there after the funeral, and our child fell ill there. I asked her to bring the child to Nairobi for treatment, but before I got an answer, the child had already died. In the grief of that, I almost lost my faith. I was also disappointed in our marriage, which seemed to be falling apart. God helped, and forgiveness repaired our relationship. God has blessed us with four children. Every night we pray together. Sometimes, when I feel tired and weak and forget, the children remind me, “Aren’t we praying today, Daddy?” They always forgive me for my sins.
Author: Samuel Okola
Photo: Samuel Okola
Read how repentance is defined in the Bible
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