By Kamal Waikui.

Diaspora Political Analyst and Senior Editor at The Diaspora Times

It is regrettable that President Ruto has commissioned the construction of a lavish church within the hallowed grounds of State House. The symbolism and timing shouldn’t be lost on a country teetering on economic struggles. The president has cracked open the constitutional foundation of our secular state and set a dangerous precedent whose consequences may haunt Kenya long after he leaves office.

At an estimated cost of 1.5 billion shillings, it is not only fiscally irresponsible, it is morally and constitutionally indefensible. There is no justification, divine or otherwise for erecting an 8,000-seat place church in a heavily guarded, publicly funded residence while millions of Kenyans struggle with cost of living and a crippling tax regime.

This is not just about a building; it is the erasure of the line between church and state, a line drawn with intention and caution by the framers of our constitution. Article 8 of the Kenyan Constitution is unequivocal: “There shall be no State religion.” That simple statement encapsulates a vital principle: the state must not privilege, promote, or entangle itself with religious institutions. Why? Because history teaches us that when religion and power dance together, it is the people who bleed.

And yet, President Ruto, elected on a tidal wave of evangelical zeal now governs in a manner incompatible with the Christian principles he so publicly espoused. The teachings of Christ including justice for the poor, compassion for the oppressed, truth spoken to power are conspicuously absent in his government. In their place is the brutalisation of Gen Z protestors, criminalisation of dissent, plunder of public resources, and a deafening silence from evangelicals who deceitfully anointed him as Heaven’s choice.

Also unhelpful was the president’s defiant response to criticism over the church’s construction: “I am not going to ask for an apology for building a church. The devil might be angry and can do what he wants.” This is not leadership. This is arrogance and theocratic posturing masquerading as moral authority. And it must be called out for what it is: a desecration of both public trust and sacred values.

It is deeply ironic and profoundly tragic that President Ruto has chosen to elevate the church, physically and symbolically, into the heart of political power. In the Biblical account, King Solomon at the height of his power did not build the Temple inside his palace. He understood the need for a spiritual sanctuary separate from political authority. Indeed, God rejected David’s offer to build the Temple, citing the blood on his hands, a rebuke whose resonance should not be lost on President Ruto, in the wake of the bloodshed and violence visited on protestors.

But perhaps the deeper crisis lies not just in State House but in the state of the church itself. The evangelical wing of Kenyan Christianity has become a hollowed-out shell of its founding principles. It has traded compassion for commerce and humility for hubris. It is now increasingly a platform for peddling “miracles” at a price and a marketplace for blessings to the highest bidder. President Ruto masterfully exploited this religious vulnerability. He cloaked himself in the garb of a pious servant while amassing political capital and power. He knew what many cynical politicians have known for centuries: that religion unmoored from principle becomes a potent drug, one that numbs the masses, silences dissent, and justifies the unjustifiable. But when this drug is administered from the most powerful office in the land, the damage becomes existential.

A dangerous precedent has been set. If a Christian president can build a megachurch in State House, what stops a Muslim president from erecting a mosque in the same place? Shall we turn State House into a pantheon for whichever deity the incumbent prefers? This is not unity, it is sectarianism.

Kenya is not a theocracy. It must never become one. We do not need religious fanatics, be they in robes or suits. We need leaders of moral clarity, spiritual humility and political vision. Leaders who understand that true faith is not about building monuments but about building justice. Not about the pomp of prayer breakfasts but about policies that lift the poor. Not about hand raising on Sunday but hand-holding every day.

And Kenyans, especially those who call themselves Christians must wake up to the theological scam being played out in real time. The God of the Gospel did not reside in palaces. He walked with the outcast, challenged the powerful, and overturned the tables of greedy men in temples. Today, we have allowed the money-changers to take over the temple once again. Kenyans must say no, loudly, clearly, and constitutionally.

Kenya must remain a secular state. Not because we are irreligious, but because we know that religion wielded for political gain always ends in tyranny. May the church become the conscience of the state, not its concubine. May faith be a lamp in the public square, not a leash around the necks of Kenyans. We cannot pray our way out of injustice. But we can reason, speak, and act our way into a more just, compassionate, democratic Kenya. This doesn’t require more churches. NO.