Secret Kenyan Church Opens Its Doors to LGBT Worshipers

For the past ten years, there has been a clandestine church operating in Kenya.

The church acknowledges Kenya as a nation deeply committed to its religious beliefs. Within its walls, the church offers a sanctuary for gay worshippers, ensuring their services remain concealed from the eyes of the public. In an interview with BBC, John, a gay priest, recounts his connection to his newly founded religious community. He had been ordained in a mainstream church before joining his new congregation.

John grappled with condemnation from his former church leaders who considered his sexual orientation sinful. He made the tough call to depart from his parish. The church had expected him to remain celibate, but he believed that sacrificing his own happiness for acceptance was too steep a price to pay. As John contemplates his current community, he conveys joy that the intersections of his ethnicity, sexual orientation, and vocation as a man of the cloth are being embraced without conflict in his new church.

He learned of the clandestine religious community through the internet, although others typically rely on recommendations from their acquaintances. To ensure the safety of its members, the church maintains strict confidentiality regarding the details of its gatherings. Prospective members are thoroughly vetted before receiving an invitation, as a precaution against potential threats or ill-intentioned individuals.

The congregation collectively understands and prioritizes the importance of security and safety. The ban on gay and lesbian organizations being able to register as non-governmental organizations was overturned by the Supreme Court. However, this church has chosen not to register due to the rise in anti-LGBT sentiment and a recent proposal to strengthen anti-gay legislation by a member of parliament.

On a Sunday filled with warmth and gentle wind, music drifts from the insignificant structure. In due course, a group of around 30 individuals arrive, filling the room. Pauline, who dons a lustrous crimson-red scarf and a flowing black robe asks, "Shall we start? Can we each take the time to close our eyes and meditate?" The assembled group goes hushed and deeply contemplative.

Pauline, a co-founder of the church, takes great pride in her identity as a non-binary lesbian and specifically requests the use of "they" and "them" as her preferred pronouns. In its early stages, the church came into existence through the collaboration of a close-knit circle of friends who sought solace and understanding in each other's company.

"When you are excluded from a community [church], there is an innate desire to find out if others have experienced similar rejection," shares Pauline, who never felt accepted in mainstream churches.