HOW KENYA’S EVANGELICAL PRESIDENT HAS FALLEN OUT WITH CHURCHES
William Ruto, who became Kenya’s president two years ago riding on the crest of the Christian vote, has been visibly shaken to find that over the last few months church leaders of all creeds are losing faith in him – seeing him less as a saviour and more as the greedy biblical tax collector.
In the run-up to his victory, some of his most ardent evangelical supporters had dubbed him “David”, after the shepherd boy in the Bible who rose to become king.
The opposition had baptised him “deputy Jesus”, accusing him of using Christianity to gain political capital as he attended church services from Catholic masses to the gatherings of obscure sects.
He would wear the appropriate religious attire for each setting, sometimes knelt in supplication and on occasion was moved to tears by sermons.
Afterwards, he credited God for his electoral success, and continued this practice of criss-crossing the country to attend a different church each Sunday.
But following massive opposition to the tax hikes imposed by his government, the 57-year-old gained a new nickname: “Zakayo” – which is Swahili for Zacchaeus, the wealthy and unpopular Jericho tax collector featured in the Bible.
The president has always maintained that if people want better public services and a reduction in the country’s debt burden, they have to pay up.
Over the last two years, taxes on salaries have gone up, the sales tax on fuel has doubled and people are also paying a new housing levy and a health insurance tax that is yet to benefit many Kenyans.
When momentous anti-tax protests erupted in June, the young people who led them, popularly referred to as Gen Zs, also called out churches for being too close to politicians and allowing them to preach from their pulpits.
Their anger forced the government to retract a controversial finance bill that had included more tax increases – and it woke up the churches, whose clergy began to openly criticise Ruto and his policies.
This too was a momentous development as the faith economy is big business in a country where more than 80% of the population are Christian – and a fundraiser with the right politician can greatly improve the fortunes of a church.
Last month, Teresia Wairimu, founder of Faith Evangelistic Ministries (Fem), a church in the capital, Nairobi, where Ruto and his family have frequently worshipped, suggested their King David was heading back to the field where sheep grazed.
“As a voter, I’m embarrassed,” she said in her sermon.
Another sermon by Rev Tony Kiama of the River of God Church recently went viral after he called out Ruto’s government for “not serving God’s purpose but an evil one”, citing the killings during the recent protests, the rising cost of living and every-day corruption.
The most hard-hitting criticism was last week’s statement from Catholic bishops, who carry more weight because of the respect and influence they command in Kenya.
They accused Ruto’s government of perpetuating a “culture of lies”, citing unfulfilled campaign promises.
“Basically, it seems that truth does not exist, and if it does, it is only what the government says,” the Kenya Conference of Catholic Bishops said, also hitting out at corruption, greed and over-taxation that was stifling the economy.
One bishop dubbed Kenya an “Orwellian dystopian authoritarian” state, where dissent was met “with intimidation, abduction or even assassination”.
This was a pointed reference to the 60 people who died and the 1,300 others arrested during the anti-tax demonstrations. A further 74 people have been abducted and 26 reported missing in the last five months, according to the state-run Kenya National Commission on Human Rights. (BBC News)