Prime land that tycoon Gerishon Kirima gave to the church as tithe

The late tycoon Gerishon Kirima was known for his business acumen and political involvement. However, little is known about his contributions to the Church. In Kiambu, he set aside land for prayers and hosting churches.

His daughter, Archbishop Jane Gathoni, who runs the facility, shared with The Nairobian the journey of Kirima Tent of Prayer and the people she encounters daily.

This is a prime land that can earn you millions. Why turn it into a prayer ground?

Indeed, it is an enviable, fertile, and prime land. It is 60 acres, but the prayer ground sits on a fraction of it. We are farming a section, and the rest is forested. Many knew my father as a politician. From being a city councillor, Nairobi deputy Mayor, Starehe MP, and assistant Minister, there was another side of him that very few knew. He was a God-fearing man. With my mother, they tithed this land to God. In 1952, my father gave his life to the Lord at Africa Inland Church (AIC), Kijabe, and remained a devoted believer until his last breath. He contributed to the construction of churches, one notable example being AIC Milimani, Nairobi. He and President Daniel Arap Moi were the major contributors. Additionally, my maternal grandfather, Paramount Chief Karuri wa Gakure, had a prayer tent at Tuthu in Kangema, Murang’a, where the first Catholic church in Kenya was established.

How was the idea of a prayer place birthed?

On March 26, 1991, I was in Chelsea, United Kingdom when God told me he wanted me to build him a tabernacle where people would worship him day and night. It was an angelic encounter. For three years, I tried to figure out who to share that message with. I was toying with the idea of talking to my father or his friends. In 1994, I received the message again. I told my parents, and while still in the UK, I started the project with an office, throne, hostels, and the rest followed.

What are the hostels for?

We host individuals, couples, churches, and worship groups. Some spend nights here, and we charge Sh300 per night. The place operates round the clock. However, we do not allow couples to share a room. They stay in separate hostels to accomplish the objective without disruptions. Wazee night, which happens once a month, is very interesting. Hearing them pray the whole night in deep voices is gratifying.

This explains the presence of armed police officers?

Yes. We employ four police officers every day—two for the daytime and two for the night.

What about the cross and other structures scattered all over the place?

This cross is a replica of the one Jesus Christ was crucified on in terms of size and depth underground. It took us three months to build it. There is a court of heaven where visitors take their unanswered prayers. We have three altars, a throne room, and a pool where various churches conduct baptisms.

What about the different colours painted all over?

They have various meanings. Purple represents loyalty, gold is glory, red is the blood of Jesus, blue stands for revelation, and white is purity.

What is the freedom forest about?

It is an outdoor spot we set aside to allow our visitors, especially men, to vent their sorrows and anger. Here, they are allowed to scream out the loudest until they heal or feel at least better. Some days, very depressed people frequent this place. Women wail the whole day. It is disheartening seeing them in such a state, and sadly, this trend is not ebbing away. Though our place helps them relax, these visits show the levels and intensity of the challenges people are facing. Children tag along with their parents, and the way they pray, it is obvious things are not well at home. The increase in the number of people coming to pray signifies the number of issues going on in our country. The situation is dire.

What are the worst cases you have encountered here?

People contemplating suicide, especially the youth. We talk to them, and many times we are able to persuade them not to walk that path. They are desperate and hopeless, and this hurts a lot.

You have been doing this for years, but many people learned about this place not long ago. How has the journey been?

When we started 30 years ago, visitors were very few. We were getting just one person a day. The numbers grew gradually, but when Covid-19 hit, we saw a hike in numbers. This prompted us to start farming a section of the land to sustain food for boarding visitors. Now, an estimated 30,000 people visit this place every year. Numbers go high when we are about to open schools, as parents, guardians, and learners come to pray to tackle the fees headache ahead. With the current economic situation, young people are coming in droves to pray, share problems, and find solutions among themselves. Weekends see the number range from 500 to 700 youths. We also work with schools and colleges.

What in church does not happen here?

Unlike in our churches, prayers here are done in very low tones. Although we are preachers, we don’t lay our hands on those seeking prayers. We let people pray on their own, like in the Garden of Gethsemane, a place I have visited and taken inspiration from.

This place is atop a hill. Is Kirima in the name after your father or the location?

Many people think we called it Kirima (hill) because of the geographical location. No, it is just a remarkable coincidence with our family name.

Before the prayer centre, what was this place?

 It was our family home built in the 1960s. Those days, from where Kiambu town sits to Muthaiga roundabout, there were eight families sparsely settled. We cycled some kilometers to visit our friends. On this farm, we reared 120 cattle and had a big coffee farm. The now baptismal pool was then a storage tank, and it is where I learned to swim. My two siblings and I started schooling at Muthaiga European School, now Muthaiga Primary School. We were the only black learners. Our father drove us to school in a pickup, and every day we carried our desks and chairs to and from school. For a long time, we spoke only our native Kikuyu or English. Kiswahili was alien to us. Our father valued education so much that he even hired tutors for us. After school, we took a shower and then proceeded to the library before supper.