All Saints Cathedral in Nairobi, Kenya. (Jenipher Wachie, Standard)

In a corner of a room at All Saints Cathedral are two teargas canisters and pieces of a broken baton (rungu), stored in a cabinet similar to those used to keep treasured trophies and souvenirs.

The unusual items tell another part of the history of the imposing house of worship.

To many Anglican faithful, the Cathedral, as its members like calling it, has been the fountain of spiritual nourishment, while to the men (and lately women) of the cloth, it has played the perfect venue to win souls for Christ, as they are called to do.

But as the Anglican faithful from across the world led by the symbolic head of the worldwide Anglican communion, Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby, troop to Nairobi for the church’s centenary celebrations culminating in a major service on Sunday, some will be paying homage to a sanctuary that has also been a refuge to the oppressed and the downtrodden. It was a sanctuary for those fleeing brutal security forces sent to crush dissent. One of them was then Democratic Party leader Mwai Kibaki, who would later rise to serve as president between 2003 and 2013.

“The Cathedral has been the gospel centre, a place of worship. But it has also been a place of refuge where many have run to in times of sorrow and trouble, like the case of Prof Wangari Maathai and the mothers of the political prisoners, and during the agitation for democracy in the 1980s and 1990s,” explains Cathedral Provost Sammy Wainaina.

Saba Saba

The teargas canisters and broken club that are now 'a treasure' were collected after the sad incident of July 7, 1997, during the struggle for constitutional reforms when the police descended on a group of protesters who had sought refuge in the church – the safest place they thought they could run and hide from the ruthless security officers.

The police moved into the sanctuary, where protesters had fled after their planned meeting at Uhuru Park was scuttled, and lobbed teargas canisters inside before descending on the helpless worshippers and refuge-seekers, leaving the pews covered in blood.

The then provost, now retired Bishop Peter Njoka, led the instant condemnation of the police action, terming it the “height of moral degeneration”, as religious leaders all over the world joined in to attack the Government.

A special service was organised to 'cleanse' the Cathedral of the defilement it had suffered. Archbishop David Gitari, now deceased, delivered a fiery sermon titled “The Writing is on the Wall” based on the Old Testament book of Daniel, warning the Kanu regime that the time for its end was nigh.

Thursday, Njoka, who would later rise to the position of Nairobi Diocese Bishop, recounted the attack.

“We had received the first group of protesters who had sought refuge in the church and I decided to offer prayers for them. Midway through the service, another large group arrived which included, among others, then Democratic Party leader Mwai Kibaki, closely followed by some GSU officers."

He said the security officers followed them right inside the church, where they unleashed teargas to flush them out and started beating the congregants.

“I had to hide Kibaki inside the vestry as he appeared to be their main target. I remember them senselessly beating other MPs who had accompanied the now retired president, especially (then Kwanza MP) George Kapten. That beating he received may have contributed to his death a few years later,” said Njoka.

He said the church, which had blood all over the pews, had to be closed for a week on the instructions of Gitari before the cleansing was done.

Teargas canisters

“That is the time I stored those teargas canisters, the broken pieces of rungus and parts of the broken pews, and the twigs we used for the cleansing, sprinkling water all-round the church, to serve as a history to the infamous incident,” Njoka said.

Wainaina says the incident will remain in the history of the Cathedral.

“It remains one of the saddest days in the 100 years of the Cathedral. That police could follow people who had chosen to hide in the church and hurl teargas at them before descending on them with baton is despicable,” says Rev Wainaina.

“But that is the rich history and diversity of All Saints Cathedral that we converge to celebrate, much as we celebrate the place where many have turned their souls to God,” he adds as he busies himself putting in place the final arrangements for the big day.

Wainaina, who is by his position the current administrator of the Cathedral and the spiritual leader of its congregation, says the church, which was started by missionaries in 1917 as the centre of worship for the white people, led by the country’s governor, has a rich history that breaks religious, socio-economic, and political barriers.

It was built for whites as they created a wedge between themselves and the Africans, who were residing on the eastern side of the city, with the boundary being the current Uhuru highway.

Church relocated

Before then, both blacks and whites would congregate at St Stephen’s church, which was then situated at current precincts of Parliament, before it was moved to Jogoo Road.

Frequent interaction between the Africans and the colonialists was not encouraged, especially given that the Anglican Church was the place of worship for the governor, who was the then tenant of State House.

Records of the Cathedral indicate that the governor was said to have often walked to the official residence of the archbishop, (which is up to now situated next to State House) for worship and at times a meal.

“That road (State House Road) that now separates State House and the residence of the archbishop was not there then. So the governor would just walk into the primate’s residence for his spiritual nourishment and even a meal,” says Wainaina.

“That presented the need for another cathedral to serve the governor easily from his residence and the whites so that they could leave St Stephen’s for the blacks,” he adds.

He says the church has played its part in moulding society, living to its mission statement placed on its foundation stone" “May this Cathedral be a blessing to the Nation and to the World”.

And the silence as one walks between the pews of the empty sanctuary of the Cathedral gives one a sense of nourishment that many have flocked there to receive over the decades.

The iconic architectural masterpiece that has since been classified as a national monument gives the impression of a church that was built for posterity, with the provost projecting that it can only help the growth of 'the body of Christ'.

Retired Presbyterian Church cleric Timothy Njoya, a key figure in the clamour for both multi-partysm and later constitutional changes, agrees with Wainaina’s assertion on the Cathedral’s rich history in hosting victims fleeing from police brutality.

He says the gesture for such accommodation was largely attributed to the leadership of the church at the time, singling out Archbishop David Gitari as a key actor in opening the doors for those who needed protection.

Needed protection

“We used to first accommodate these groups at St Andrews PCEA Church, when I was in charge there but when I was defrocked, we moved to All Saints, largely because of Archbishop Gitari.

“The Anglican Church appears to have more of such progressive religious leaders because even when as members of the struggle we went to Eldoret, we would be accommodated by Bishop Alexander Muge, while in Kisumu we would be welcomed by Bishop Henry Okullu,” says Rev Njoya.

Njoya was among those confronted by the police on that Saba Saba day.

Wainaina says that being next to Uhuru Park, the epicentre of many of the meetings for the struggle, positioned the Cathedral as the safest refuge for those fleeing from the brutal force of the police.

Political detainees

It was also at All Saints in March 1992 that the mothers of political detainees, who were staging a hunger strike to press for the release of their sons, sought refuge after they were brutally dispersed from the present-day Freedom Corner.

They were led by environmentalist and human rights activist Wangari Maathai, who went on to win the Nobel Peace prize.

Security officers camped outside the church for days as the elderly women hid inside before the then head of the Anglican Church, Archbishop Manasses Kuria, told the law enforcers to vacate the area, terming them unwanted idlers.

The church was also home to some of the victims of the Muoroto slum displacements of the early 1990s, when security forces moved in to evict the dwellers who for years had known the area as their only home.

The manner in which the evictions were conducted attracted criticism, including from the then provost at the Cathedral, Bishop Peter Njenga, who took to the pulpit in his sermons to lash out at the Government for its brutality on the slum dwellers.

“This pulpit has been used to preach the gospel and convert souls to salvation, but also for agitation, especially for the rights of the down-trodden and those under the brutality of State forces. This is part of what we celebrate,” Wainaina says.

The pulpit has been used by some of the fiercest critics of the Government, especially the archbishops and provosts who have served at the Cathedral, which at one time led critics to refer to the church, then known with the abbreviation of CPK for Church of the Province of Kenya, as the Church of Politics of Kenya.

Frequent criticism

This was because of the frequent criticism that the church leaders sustained against the authorities, especially in the late 1980s and early 1990s.

The church had to change from CPK to ACK, though insiders say the church hierarchy got wind of a move by some powerful elements to cause a split of the church, and to forestall this division they resorting to the name the Anglican Church. This also stopped the politicisation of the name of the church.

mnjagi@standardmedia.co.ke