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• The Nairobian
• Fri Apr 18 2025

At the Neno Evangelism Centre, where carpets carry the weight of both sinners and seekers, Apostle James Ng?ang?a always takes to the pulpit with the swagger of a seasoned general rather than a shepherd of souls.

Here, the altar is not a place of gentle invitation, but of command, where discipline is dispensed with fervour, and where one wrong step might summon a rebuke sharp enough to draw blood from the spirit.

Echoes of war part 2 by Pastor Ng'ang'a pic.twitter.com/iMiTHZz9Eo ? Kenyan's on X (@KOX_News) April 12, 2025

?This is not a church, it?s a military camp,? he declared in a past sermon, his voice low but charged with warning. ?My ministry deals with matters no other preacher dares touch. If you want a church environment, go find it elsewhere.?

There was no hint of apology in his tone. In fact, it was boastful, proud even. He spoke not merely as a preacher, but as a man convinced of his singular calling.

?I am not here just to preach, I give wisdom. And I am not poor. I have built my wealth. What I speak here is beyond ordinary sermons,? he barked at his congregants.

In Apostle Ng?ang?a?s world, salvation is no gentle song. It is war, spiritual warfare dressed in camouflage, wielding scripture as a sword and discipline as the shield.

Public outrage

His followers, many drawn by his raw delivery and apocalyptic urgency, gather not for comfort, but for confrontation. And they receive both.

So when he struck a drowsy congregant across the face mid-sermon and ordered him to the back of the church, it was not an aberration, it was, to his mind, discipline.

?Hii Kenya iko na mambo mingi sana, amka!? he barked. ?This country has too many problems, wake up!? The slap echoed not just through the building, but across the nation, once again placing Ng?ang?a at the centre of public outrage.

In the viral clip, Ng?ang?a is seen striding away from the pulpit, stopping abruptly before a man seated in the front pew, his head gently bowed in sleep.

The preacher wastes no time. A swift slap, loud enough to turn heads, snaps the man into shocked wakefulness.

Visibly irritated, Ng?ang?a then orders the stunned man to move to the back of the church.

?Na wewe kwa nini analala hapa na unamwona?? he scolded a woman seated beside him. ?And you, why is he sleeping here while you?re just watching??

The outcry online was swift and fierce. Critics condemned the act as violent and humiliating.

Nairobi County Chief Environment Officer Geoffrey Mosiria joined the chorus of condemnation, stating, ?Even when we respond to noise pollution complaints and find people fighting, we don?t resort to violence. A church is no place to assault someone.?

Christina Massawe, a social media commentator, added gravitas to the discourse, quoting scripture: ?Watu wangu wanaangamia kwa kukosa maarifa? (My people perish for lack of knowledge.)

George Wambugu likened the slap to a human rights violation.

?The Nancy Baraza case should be a reference point,? he noted, referring to a former judge who lost her position after assaulting a security guard.

?It?s heartbreaking. A church should be a place of refuge, not where you get slapped,? said Sophie Maunde.

But the episode was not isolated. Days later, another clip resurfaced. This time, a woman bore the brunt of Ng?ang?a?s wrath.

The preacher, mid-sermon, paused to address the dozing female congregant.

?Umetoka wapi? Amka! Chukua mizigo yako!? (Where have you come from? Wake up! Pick your belongings!?), he shouted.

And as if that was not enough, he barked further instructions to his ushers: ?Muweke kwa mvua anyeshewe kidogo,? (Take her outside and let her be rained on.)

The congregation watched in stunned silence. Some chuckled nervously. Others simply complied.

When pressed to explain his actions, Ng?ang?a was anything but remorseful.

In yet another video, he stated: ?Niliona mkisema nilipiga mtu, nitawapiga na nitawatoa nje. Hata Yesu aliwatoa wote.? (I saw you saying I slapped someone. I will slap you and throw you out. Even Jesus drove them all out.?)

The outrage spiralled. On X, the commentaries was unrelenting.

?What?s even more astonishing is that church members are laughing and doing nothing,? wrote Bernard Kavuli. ?People worship Ng?ang?a like a god. That church should be shut down immediately.?

User @sammiesi added, ?Why do people keep going to those places? It?s us who enable them.?

Some turned to sarcasm, suggesting the preacher?s slap was no less than the ?hand of God? in action.

Still, many expressed disbelief at Ng?ang?a?s enduring popularity. ?And he still has thousands in his congregation. They laugh when he does these theatrics. They are the voters. Eeiiyy, we are done!? lamented @NimoWairimu01.

Yet Ng?ang?a remains undeterred. His voice, roughened by years of shouting over choirs and congregants, continues to echo through the rafters of his church.

In February 2025, Ng?ang?a again found himself on the defensive, this time for refusing to help a woman, Milka Moraa, who sought his assistance to clear rent arrears. The backlash was intense.

?My church is not the government of Kenya,? he snapped. ?If you think I will pay rent for you, wrong number.?

Yet, the incident morphed into a tale of redemption. Moraa?s story captured national attention.

Through the intervention of Kenyan police officer Sammy Ondimu Ngare and later Lands Cabinet Secretary Alice Wahome, she was enrolled into the government?s Affordable Housing Programme.

?I thank God and Pastor Ng?ang?a for directing me on the right path. I have benefited. I will soon own a house,? Moraa said, following her meeting with CS Wahome.

Wahome confirmed the development in an official statement, noting Moraa had paid her deposit and would soon be allocated a unit at the Mukuru Site.

Recently, he turned his attention to economics, warning congregants against venturing into the transport and hospitality sectors.

?If you are saved, don?t open a bar or hotel and lodging business,? he cautioned. ?Ukifungua hoteli na huuzi bangi na condom, hiyo hoteli imeisha. If you don?t sell marijuana and condoms, your hotel business is as good as dead.?

He cited personal experiences: ?I have three matatus, and they are bothering me. I even sold one at a throwaway price and it was new. I don?t know what kind of demon this is.?

On his own hotel business, he offered a grim picture. ?Mine is often empty. I had to look for someone to operate it and pay rent. Because I don?t sell alcohol or play loud music, it doesn?t make money.?

?Yangu inakaanga hivyo haina mtu, mpaka nimetafuta mtu nikamwambia uza pombe yako na unipe pesa mwisho wa mwezi,? he added. ?Mine just stays empty until I found someone and told them to sell their drinks, then give me rent at month?s end.?

His candour, part comedy, part catastrophe, never fails to amuse his followers, many of whom remain loyal despite the pastor?s growing list of controversies.

Ng?ang?a is no stranger to dramatic exits either. In one of his sermons, he revealed that over 700 women left his congregation after he introduced his wife, Mercy Murugi.

?When I lost my first wife, so many women were on my case. When I unveiled Mercy, 700 women stood and walked away. Even some ushers were among them,? he said.

But he remained unmoved. ?There were thousands who wanted me. But I made my final decision and settled for her,? he said, revealing that Mercy?s intelligence had been the biggest draw. ?By the time I knew her, she was in university. I didn?t go to school myself, and that attracted me to her.?

He also spoke of spiritual attacks and resistance from within. ?They tried to fight her. They even brought witchcraft to our home. I would wake up and find strange things thrown in the compound. But through prayer, we overcame.?

His stance on loyalty is fierce. In 2019, he issued a stern warning to his congregants: any disrespect towards his wife would not be tolerated. ?I will not hesitate to kick you out of my ministry,? he declared.

But even as a self-proclaimed spiritual warrior, Ng?ang?a has a past that casts a long shadow.

In a 2022 interview, he revealed that he had served a 20-year prison sentence for armed robbery, only gaining his freedom in 1992.

?I was a criminal. We fought, caused chaos. But one day, I heard about the Gospel and decided to change,? he recalled.

From prison, he preached to fellow inmates for two and a half years, later emerging as one of Nairobi?s most notorious, and oddly magnetic, men of the cloth.

In the world of James Ng?ang?a, salvation comes with sound and fury. To some, he is a maverick. To others, a menace. But love him or loathe him, the Apostle has mastered the art of spectacle.