In a country often marred by political tensions, corruption scandals, and spiritual disillusionment, there remain a few figures whose lives serve as beacons of integrity, compassion, and truth. Father John Maina Ndegwa was one such figure. A humble Catholic priest known for his commitment to social justice, community development, and spiritual growth, his shocking murder on May 15, 2025, has cast a long, dark shadow over the nation.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!Three weeks prior to his death, Father Maina stood beside former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua during a grand family day celebration at Igwamiti Catholic Parish in Nyahururu. He delivered a homily that called on leaders to serve with humility and to place the interests of the common mwananchi above political gain. His words were powerful, even daring—echoing the church’s long-standing tradition of holding leaders to account.
But now, Father Maina is gone. And the circumstances surrounding his brutal murder are raising troubling questions. Was his death a random act of violence? Or was it a calculated move to silence a bold cleric unafraid to speak truth to power?
A Life of Devotion and Integrity
Father John Maina was more than just a priest. He was a mentor, a community organizer, a teacher, and a father to many. Ordained nearly two decades ago, he had served in various parishes across central Kenya before settling in Igwamiti Catholic Parish. Parishioners speak of a man who was always available—whether it was for confessions, counseling, or launching community empowerment programs.
He had a way of drawing people together. Whether it was young people seeking direction, couples needing guidance, or the elderly seeking spiritual nourishment, Father Maina welcomed all with open arms. His sermons were not just liturgical exercises; they were calls to action, laced with wisdom, candor, and a genuine desire for positive transformation.
Even as the Catholic Church in Kenya faced internal divisions and a dwindling number of vocations, Father Maina remained a symbol of hope and resilience. He actively supported youth talent development, organized feeding programs for the needy, and advocated for the education of orphaned children. His dedication was unmatched, and his influence undeniable.
The Gachagua Visit: A Message of Accountability
On April 27, 2025, Father Maina hosted former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua during the parish’s 25th Family Day celebration—a grand event that attracted hundreds from Nyandarua and neighboring counties. Gachagua, whose political influence remains potent despite his exit from national office, was given a platform to address the faithful.
But it was Father Maina’s message that lingered in people’s minds long after the event. Standing before the crowd and with cameras rolling, he addressed the former DP and other political leaders directly.
“Leadership is not a throne to be sat upon with pride,” he said. “It is a cross to be carried with humility. Those who seek power must first learn to wash the feet of the people.”
The congregation erupted in applause. The message was bold and clear: Kenya’s political class needed to return to servant leadership, to abandon tribalism, greed, and arrogance. It was a moment of truth in a country where clergy often shy away from challenging powerful figures.
Whether Father Maina knew the risk such words carried remains unclear. What is certain is that he refused to be silent.
The Fateful Night
On May 15, Father Maina went missing. He had reportedly left his parish to attend to an errand but never returned. Panic spread quickly among his parishioners and fellow clergy. It wasn’t long before news broke that a priest had been found abandoned along the Nakuru-Nairobi highway near Kikopey in Gilgil.
Father Maina was found severely injured, his body bearing signs of assault. Witnesses said he appeared to have been hijacked, beaten, and dumped. He was rushed to St. Joseph Hospital in Gilgil but succumbed to his injuries shortly after arrival. His vehicle—a white Subaru Forester—was missing.
The news hit like a thunderclap. A man so revered, so deeply entrenched in the spiritual life of his community, was gone. The grief was immediate—and so were the questions.
A Nation in Mourning and Confusion
Church bells tolled mournfully across Nyahururu the next morning. Vigils were held. Candles lit. Masses dedicated. Tributes poured in from Catholic bishops, local leaders, and ordinary citizens. The Kenya Conference of Catholic Bishops condemned the murder and called for a speedy and thorough investigation.
Yet the mourning was laced with anxiety.
Why was he killed? Was it a robbery gone wrong? Was it politically motivated? Could it be tied to the messages he had so boldly delivered weeks earlier?
Father Maina’s murder struck a raw nerve. Kenya has a long and tragic history of clerics being targeted for their outspokenness. From Bishop Alexander Muge in the 1990s to Father Kaiser in the early 2000s, brave men of the cloth who challenge the status quo often find themselves in harm’s way.
Father Maina’s death is now feared to be the latest in that grim lineage.
Investigations and Speculation
The Directorate of Criminal Investigations (DCI) has launched a probe. Forensic teams have combed the scene, and several leads are being pursued. A post-mortem examination is expected to shed more light on the cause and timeline of his injuries. His car is still missing, and authorities are using technology to trace its last known location.
Still, the silence from certain political quarters has raised eyebrows. While some leaders expressed outrage and grief, others—particularly those affiliated with Gachagua’s political wing—have remained notably quiet.
This silence has only fueled speculation. Was Father Maina a victim of a political hit? Did his message at the Family Day celebration ruffle too many feathers? Or was his death part of a larger, more complex scheme?
The answers remain elusive. But the demand for justice is growing louder by the day.
The Voice of the Church
In a special Sunday Mass held in his memory, Bishop James Kamau of Nyahururu Diocese delivered a moving homily.
“We are not gathered here just to mourn a priest,” he said. “We are here to mourn a prophet who refused to be silent. A shepherd who laid down his life for his sheep. And we shall not be silenced either.”
The bishop’s words electrified the congregation. There is now a push within the church to speak more boldly on issues of national concern—poverty, governance, tribalism, and corruption. Father Maina’s death, tragic as it is, may become a catalyst for spiritual and social reawakening in Kenya.
A Life Remembered
As burial plans take shape, tributes continue to flood in.
“Father Maina was not just a priest; he was a revolutionary in a robe,” said parishioner Alice Wanjiru. “He dared to challenge the giants with nothing but a Bible and a kind heart.”
“He helped me go back to school after I got pregnant as a teenager,” shared Lucy Njeri, a now-successful nurse. “He told me I was not ruined. That God still had a plan for me.”
His family has asked for prayers, privacy, and justice. They remember a brother, uncle, and son who carried the burdens of many on his shoulders—and did so without complaint.
A Nation at a Crossroads
Kenya now finds itself at a critical juncture. The murder of Father Maina is not just an isolated incident; it is a reflection of a society where truth-tellers are at risk, where power still shields impunity, and where sacred voices are increasingly silenced.
Will his death stir the nation’s conscience? Or will it be buried with the countless other unresolved killings?
The responsibility now lies with the church, civil society, the media, and ordinary citizens. We must not forget. We must ask the hard questions. We must demand justice—not just for Father Maina, but for the soul of this country.
Final Reflections
Father John Maina Ndegwa’s life was a testament to the power of courage wrapped in humility. He loved deeply, served faithfully, and spoke boldly. His death is a national tragedy, but also a rallying cry.
May his soul rest in peace. And may his legacy rise—like incense before the altar of truth.
