Of snakebite, faith and silence: The deadly doctrine behind journalist's death

The death of Kamba journalist Kitavi Mutua following a venomous snakebite has shifted the national conversation from the availability of antivenom in snake-prone regions to a more difficult question: What can the State do when religious beliefs prevent a patient from seeking medical treatment?

According to a relative, Cyrus Kithele, Mutua was kept at home for three weeks after being bitten by a snake, until it was too late for medical intervention. His family belongs to the Kavonokya sect, which prohibits the use of modern medicine.

In a public statement, a first cousin of the late journalist said that focusing on healthcare infrastructure misses the point.

“Kitavi had the means and network to access help within minutes, if not hours,” the cousin said.

“The snakebite didn’t kill Kitavi. Kavonokya did,” he added.

The relative claims that the family concealed Mutua’s condition from anyone outside the sect’s circle until someone found a way to get him to Kitui for treatment, three weeks after the snakebite. By then, medical intervention could no longer save him.

The cousin said the tragedy was not the family’s first. More than 20 years ago, three children in the same household died on the same day, while an aunt later died from conditions that, according to the relative, could have been treated with basic medication available at village dispensaries. “I’m saying goodbye to a brother I shouldn’t be saying goodbye to at this point,” the cousin said.

Mutua’s death has drawn comparisons with the Shakahola tragedy, in which cult leader Paul Mackenzie and his co-leaders were convicted over the deaths of 191 people through starvation and extremist teachings. Mackenzie reportedly instructed followers to starve themselves to meet Jesus, while rejecting education and modern medicine.

Kitavi’s relative called for investigations into religious groups whose teachings endanger lives and urged the Government to exercise what the cousin described as its constitutional responsibility to regulate such activities.

“Haven’t we learned enough already from Shakahola?” the cousin asked, referring to the 2023 deaths of followers of preacher Paul Mackenzie in Kilifi County.

The cousin also suggested that local leaders, neighbours and some relatives may have known about Mutua’s condition but lacked the resolve to confront the family.

The Kavonokya have not publicly responded to the allegations, and this publication could not independently verify the timeline of Mutua’s illness.

What is Kavonokya?

Kavonokya, also spelt Kabonokia, is an indigenous Christian movement found mainly in eastern Kenya, particularly in Kitui, Mwingi, Tharaka-Nithi, Embu and Meru counties. It emerged in the 1940s as a form of cultural and religious resistance to British colonial rule and Western influence.

The movement blends Christian beliefs with strict communal and anti-modern teachings. Members often worship under trees, in open spaces or in followers’ homes rather than in conventional church buildings. Leadership is informal and predominantly male, while women observe modest dress codes. Members also provide mutual support within their communities.

One of its most contentious doctrines is the rejection of modern medicine. Followers reportedly shun hospitals, medication and vaccines, relying instead on prayer and faith healing. This has repeatedly brought them into conflict with public health officials, including during measles outbreaks and the Covid-19 pandemic.

Adherents also generally avoid participating in State systems. They reportedly shun voting, national identity card registration, the national census and formal schooling for their children.

The movement is not registered as a mainstream religious organisation under the Societies Act and operates as a loose, decentralised network. Because members reject national identity cards and birth certificates, they frequently come into conflict with local administrators and security officials.

Residents of Mwingi and surrounding areas have expressed frustration and bewilderment at the group’s teachings.

Rey Mwaki said he could not understand why mature, educated people were drawn to the movement to the extent of refusing medical treatment when ill.

“I don’t understand how these people can deceive even the professionals in various sectors into believing their shenanigans,” he said.

Cicilia Kivivya, a resident of Mwingi South, said she lives near a site where members gather for prayers. She described their services as unusual, involving jumping and chanting.

“Indeed, they don’t go to hospital when sick; according to them, this would mean a lack of faith in their God,” she said.

James Kasya, an IT professional from Mwingi, said he was raised by parents who practised the faith.

“I have lived and been raised with parents who practised this religion and I can attest that life under this religion is complicated,” he said, without elaborating further.

Mwikali Musili, a Mwingi resident who regularly interacts with members, also attested to the strict doctrines of Kavonokya adherents.

“I’m not a Kavonokya, but I interact with them most of the time. Their faith is of another level. Mkipiga dawa kwa mimea wao huomba, mifugo yao pia hawapei dawa. Some hawaendangi hosi but kuna some huenda. Dress code so smart,” she said.

Fredrick Moton, an elder with the Kavonokya church based in Kitui, strongly defended the movement. He argued that it was wrong to label the church a sect, maintaining that it was among the mainstream churches and that its beliefs, like those of any other religious group, should be respected.

“Our beliefs are purely based on the Bible, which is a cornerstone of Jews and Christians. When we say we are taking medicine or schooling, it is a doctrine that is entrenched in the Bible and we are required to adhere to it fully as a means of demonstrating our faith to our God,” he said.

Why enforcement is difficult

Authorities have, however, not been entirely passive. Over the years, chiefs, police officers and other administrative officials have conducted raids and arrested or prosecuted dozens of members for evading national exercises, keeping children out of school and flouting public health regulations.

A chief in Mwingi South, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said officers regularly conduct raids on homesteads suspected of keeping children out of school. However, the sect’s secretive nature makes it difficult for authorities to identify and trace affected children.

Enforcing medical treatment is even more challenging, particularly when it involves adults who voluntarily refuse to seek medical attention. The chief said administrators have limited powers to compel a competent adult to seek treatment against their wishes. “The secretive nature of this group, religious freedom and other aspects make it cumbersome to eliminate this group and their teachings of religious extremism,” he said.

Analysts point to several structural obstacles.

Article 32 of the Constitution guarantees freedom of conscience, though, religion, opinion and belief. Because the Kavonokya present themselves as an indigenous Christian faith, the State cannot ban the movement outright without risking a constitutional challenge. It can act only case by case, when specific laws are broken, such as those on obstructing officials or child neglect.

There is no entity to deregister. Mainstream religious organisations have headquarters, trustees, certificates, and bank accounts that can be revoked by the Registrar of Societies. The Kavonokya have none of these. They do not use bank accounts, own little in the way of conventional church property, and meet in shifting locations. A group that was never registered in the first place cannot be deregistered.

Noncooperation and martyrdom. Prison does little to deter adherents. Followers often surrender peacefully, saying they are prepared to suffer for their faith like biblical martyrs, and jail terms tend to harden rather than change their convictions. Their refusal of fingerprints and IDs also makes it hard to track repeat offenders or keep judicial records.

Remote terrain. Strongholds lie in arid, sparsely populated parts of Kitui, Tharaka-Nithi, Meru and Embu, where families live on scattered farms. That makes it easy to keep children away from school inspectors, health workers and vaccination teams, and allows small groups to disperse to neighboring areas when pressure mounts.

Reactive enforcement. Crackdowns have typically followed national operations or public tragedies rather than preceded them. In 2019, 46 members were jailed after hiding in trees to avoid the national census. In 2021, members were arrested for refusing to wear face masks during the pandemic.

A question of prevention

Mutua’s death has reignited debate over the balance between religious freedom and the right to life. While Kenyan law allows intervention where children’s welfare is at risk, the position is less clear when competent adults refuse treatment or relatives prevent incapacitated individuals from accessing medical care.

Nairobi advocate William Inyonje of Inyonje & Co Advocates said religious freedom, guaranteed under the Constitution, is not absolute and cannot justify practices that endanger lives or undermine human dignity.

“Every citizen is equally guaranteed under Article 28 to live, exist and worship in a dignified manner, not the opposite or in an enterprise that threatens life in the name of worship,” he said.

Citing Shakahola, Inyonje argued that timely intervention and public reporting could save lives. He called for targeted legislation to address harmful religious practices, adding that those promoting them could be prosecuted. “The right to life is non-derogable and the State owes every citizen the duty and obligation to protect it,” he said.

The Right Reverend Peter Chesirkwon, Presiding Bishop of the Free Anglican Church of Kenya, urged the Government and religious institutions to condemn teachings that deny people medical care or deprive children of education.

“We believe that faith and medicine should complement each other, and that no religious doctrine should supersede the fundamental rights and dignity of individuals. We therefore urge the Government to engage the Kavonokya religious community through constructive dialogue, civic education and appropriate interventions to safeguard lives and protect children’s rights,” he said.

Authorities continue to rely on chiefs and Nyumba Kumi units to identify parents who keep children out of school. However, their ability to detect and prevent medical neglect within closed religious communities remains uncertain.

For Mutua’s family, the issue is deeply personal. His cousin questioned why existing laws had not been used more effectively to prevent such tragedies. “Isn’t there legislation enough to warrant such firm direction that could save lives?” the cousin asked.

Mutua’s death has also raised questions about the responsibility of neighbours, fellow believers and local leaders to intervene when someone is visibly suffering.