Testimony of Wilson Maina

For many years, I lived on the streets of Nairobi.   I was a Rastafarian deeply involved in drugs, alcohol, and the criminal life.  Our gang used to mug people at night.  In Kenya, when a criminal is caught by a crowd, he is usually subjected to “mob justice”.    He can be beaten to death, lynched, or soaked in gasoline and set on fire.   I was caught and “mob justiced” four  times, each time barely escaping with my life.   I buried several of my friends who were killed by mob justice. 

I struggled for many years.   In 2012, I became tired of the violence, and began to slowly withdraw from my gang.  Now instead of mugging people at knifepoint, I simply stole what I was able to steal in order to survive.

In May 2013 I had a conflict with a women who lived near me.  Many people believed that she was a sorcerer, and they would pay her money so that she could use her power for their benefit.  One day, as we were taking drugs and alcohol, I went and set her house on fire, and then ran off into a deserted place to hide.  

When you anger a witch, she will sent her witchcraft to find you, a fact which caused me to feel very insecure for several days.  I used to search the streets for plastic containers and tin cans that I could sell.  As I walked the streets searching for plastics and tins to sell, I met a friend who offered me some chang’aa, a kind of moonshine.  Another offered me some marijuana, so I smoked it with him.  As I continued walking the streets, a strong whirlwind, full of dust, suddenly engulfed me, and then just as suddenly left me.

In my insecure condition, I felt sure that the whirlwind had been sent by the witch whose house I had burned.  Now I felt a kind of madness invading my mind.  When I heard people laughing, I was sure they were laughing about me.  I heard them talking about how much the devil was tormenting me. 

The previous day, a preacher had stopped some members of my gang, and told them about an evangelistic crusade he was holding nearby.  We listened to him, but his crusade didn’t really interest us.  But now, in my desperation I prayed to God.

 I said “Lord, don’t let me run mad in the streets, let me reach the crusade, so that I can give my life to you.”  By this time I was tired of my life.  Even my own family was tired of seeing me.

And so I made it to the crusade grounds, drunk and high.  When I arrived, they weren’t finished setting up their equipment for the meeting, but I decided to wait for them.  When the meeting finally began, and they gave a call for people to receive salvation, I raised my hand, and prayed the prayer that they asked me to pray.   Nothing much seemed to happen to me after praying.

The following day, I decided not to go back to the streets.  Instead, I went back to the crusade.  When I arrived, the pastor who was holding the crusade spotted me in the crowd.  He told the people that there was a Rasta in the crowd who had given his life to Jesus the previous day, and he invited me to come and greet the people.  So I came up on the stage and spoke a few words. 

As I was climbing down from the platform, one of the pastors who was there came up and hugged me.  As he embraced me, I felt a strong power flowing through me, and I fell to the ground.  As I lay on the ground, the pictures of all the things I had been through went through my mind.  I saw the crimes I had committed and the bad experiences I had endured.  I saw my friends being lynched by the mobs, and relived the times when I had been mob justiced.   I lay on the ground crying for two hours. 

After all these things had played in my mind, I just saw one thing remaining constant in the center of my mind.  I saw Jesus Christ, on the cross with a crown of thorns.  I cried, to him,” Lord, can you really forgive me for all this?”  He told me that he had forgiven it all.  He told me that he wanted to use me to reach those youths who were still on the streets.

I was filled with Holy Spirit.  The following day, as I wanted to praise God, I found myself singing in a language that I didn’t understand. 

A short time afterwards, I was trying to find a way to do the things God had asked me to do.  One day as I was listening to the radio, I heard a preacher speaking about a missionary training school in Ukunda.  As he spoke, I felt like my heart was connected to what he was saying.  I contacted the school, and asked to be admitted.  After going through the interview process, they accepted me as a student.  

Now, I am here at the school.  Two days ago, as we were worshiping, I began to consider the Lord as a consuming fire.  As I saw the Lord in this way, a song started to come up in me...."When we come into the presence of the Living Fire, oooh, we melt away, oooh, we melt away.   You can listen to this song on the video above.