When Dr David Owuor’s name started to circulate throughout Kenya in the early 2000s, many of us were captivated by what appeared to be a bold and refreshing message of repentance.
Owuor’s emphasis on holiness was particularly striking in a time when many seemed more focused on prosperity and miracles rather than personal transformation. For numerous believers, it felt as if God had sent a messenger to bring the nation back to the essential tenets of faith.
I was one of those who found his message appealing. I yearned for a deeper relationship with God, and the ministry’s focus on moral integrity, humility, and turning away from sin seemed to fulfill that desire. It felt innovative, authentic, and unwavering.
However, time has a unique way of challenging our beliefs. Gradually, I began to hear murmurs of concern from within the same movement — individuals who sensed that something was amiss. A pastor I held in high regard once confided in me, almost reluctantly, that Owuor’s teachings included elements that didn’t align with Scripture. Initially, I brushed it off. After all, how could a message centered on holiness possibly be flawed?
Yet, those lingering doubts never truly faded away. I continued to listen, study the Bible, pray, and observe. Gradually, the pieces started to come together. While the teachings were indeed strong on morality, certain assertions and prophecies began to raise questions. Some appeared to be exaggerated or self-serving. Others, despite being cloaked in religious rhetoric, felt more like manipulation than genuine conviction.
It became clear to me that a blend of truth and falsehood is not truth at all. The Bible cautions that even a small amount of yeast can permeate the entire batch of dough. A message may appear to be 99 percent accurate — yet if that remaining one percent is based on deceit, the entire message is tainted. This is what renders spiritual deception particularly perilous: it conceals itself behind a facade of righteousness.
As I continued to observe, it became increasingly evident that holiness itself was not the issue — rather, it was the claim of ownership over that holiness. When an individual starts to behave as the exclusive guardian of truth, and when followers hold him in higher regard than the God he speaks of, something has gone drastically awry.
I discovered that faith was never intended to stifle the intellect. Genuine faith encourages inquiry and flourishes under scrutiny. The truth does not require protection from examination; it actually shines more brightly when put to the test. Any teacher or prophet who discourages questioning is not safeguarding the truth — he is safeguarding his own interests.
Kenya, much like the rest of Africa, is profoundly spiritual. Our desire for divine guidance is both genuine and heartfelt. However, this desire also renders us susceptible to manipulation. We must learn to distinguish between the message and the messenger, and evaluate every teaching not by feelings or charm but by the outcomes it yields.
The story of David Owuor is larger than one man; it is a caution against making a human being into an idol, even when the message sounds right. Holiness without humility becomes performance, and performance without truth becomes deception.
Even as I reflect on that time, I am thankful for the experience, not because it was easy, but because it reminded me that a message packaged in the language of heaven can still be used for earthly purposes. After all, truth does not need defenders; it remains steadfast, even when the masks come off.
