I have heard it said that when a Samburu or Rendille boy reaches the age between 12 and 14, he faces two very divergent paths: on the one hand, if he is able and his family can afford it, he will go on to secondary school, with the possibility of university to follow; on the other hand, if he is unable, for whatever reason, he will enlist in the Moran, the ‘Warriors’, who serve as the local home guard for every village community. Young men who go on to school and university typically find jobs in towns or even the capital of Nairobi, and rarely do they return to their village community roots. The Moran, however, are shepherds and herdsmen, trained to kill if necessary to protect their communities and their flocks. These young men, once they ‘age out’ of the Morans and become wazee, ‘old men’, typically stay within the community, serving in various capacities as elders, leaders, and community directors. It is these young men—these shepherds of the community—who have become the church leaders in all the village churches we have founded. Their pastoralist training becomes a natural shift to pastoring a different kind of flock: a young and growing village church. It is precisely for this reason that David and I have focused an intense amount of energy in reaching out to the Moran, reaching them with the Gospel early and discipling them throughout their time of service.
A few years ago, the Morans were a completely closed section of this community, highly secretive in their movements and considered ‘outsiders’ from those in the villages. We faced extreme challenges when we first began attempting to reach out to them two years ago—they truly are a ‘closed’ group that seemed impenetrable to outside influence. However, something powerful and completely unexpected happened six months before our first meeting with the Morans in Nairibi. There was a clash between themselves and raiders from a different tribe, blood was shed on both sides, and one of the young Moran warriors of this community died in the conflict. It was in this vacuum of loss, in their moment of grief and questioning, that they reached out to Rev. David and miraculously extended an invitation to us to come and share the Gospel with them. What had seemed like an insurmountable barrier was suddenly opened through tragedy—a divine providence where God was working even devastating circumstances for His good. Without that first invitation born from their pain, we would have struggled for years to make any inroads with this warrior community. Sometimes God uses the very darkness that threatens to destroy to create the opening for His light to penetrate.
We were fortunate to be invited into this secret society, and I am sure that without that first invitation, we would have struggled for years to make inroads with them. Because their role within the community is to be the unseen protectors of the villages, they are not free to enter manyattas for meals or fellowship with anyone other than their own. We knew strategically that one important way we could serve them was to share a common meal. Every time we engage the Morans for discipleship, we always bring a goat, which will be roasted while we teach them the Truth of the Gospel, and then once the teaching is over, we will all gather for the shared act of eating roasted meat. Daily life for the Moran is very difficult, and they are often required to range far from home for months at a time, driving the village herds to new pasture lands, keeping watch over them, and protecting them from raids and wild animals. When we are moving deep in the bush interior, far from the main tarmac roads, we are always sure that we are being watched from distant mountain ridges, our movements tracked and communicated through short wave radios. We hold true to our strategy of sharing Biblical narrative stories, which resonate deeply within this entire community, and we choose stories which highlight the warriors of the Old and New Testaments. In year one, we shared the story of David, on the run from King Saul, and how he was given an opportunity to kill his pursuer, when Saul entered the cave David was hiding in for a ‘rest’—we shared with them how although Saul was David’s enemy, David instead chose to submit to God, and not kill God’s anointed, even though Saul was trying to kill him. That same submission to God ultimately opens us up to live in peace.
The transformation we have witnessed among the Morans has been nothing short of miraculous. The very first time we engaged with the Moran three years ago, we saw 60 pray to receive Jesus, and these are the same Morans who have been involved with our ongoing discipleship training ever since. Currently, all the church leaders within the local Nairibi village churches were at one time Morans themselves—they are the ones who have stayed in the villages, and they are the ones we have looked to shepherd and pastor the village churches. Their pastoralist training in protecting and guiding flocks has translated seamlessly into pastoring and protecting spiritual flocks. In year two, we taught about how Paul urged Timothy to be a ‘warrior of the Faith’ and how they were equally called to lead with their faith. This year, we are sharing the narratives from Exodus 15 and Deuteronomy 23, and the promise we have of Immanuel, God with us, even though we may be ‘outsiders.’ Perhaps most remarkably, the Morans themselves have approached David and me and requested that a small church structure be constructed for them in the bush, so that they can worship there together, since they cannot come into town regularly and attend services at Nairibi. We strive to meet with them at least six times each year when they are nearby, each time of discipleship bringing with us a goat to roast—and each time witnessing the continued growth of warriors becoming shepherds of souls.
Now we are inviting Peter LeKombe into this ministry fellowship so he can learn from how we engage the warriors of Nairibi and apply these strategies to reach the Morans in his area around L’Moti. We hope that by inviting him into the circle we have been invited into, he will gain deeper insight into how to engage the warriors of his region. To give him a strong starting point, we plan to help him financially with the funds needed to take a goat with him to his first meeting with the Morans in his community—understanding that this shared meal strategy has been crucial to our success. L’Moti, however, presents unique challenges that make this ministry even more difficult than what we’ve experienced in Nairibi. L’Moti is in the ‘interior,’ far from the tarmac roads, and the uphill challenges we face with reaching the L’Moti Morans are a direct result of them being a much more reclusive ‘community within a community.’ Additionally, the L’Moti Morans live in closer proximity to the ‘border lands,’ an area that has hosted tribal clashes for generations—an area where no one lives because too much blood has been spilled on that ground. The increased isolation and proximity to violence will require even more patience, wisdom, and divine intervention than we experienced in our own Moran ministry breakthrough. But we believe the same God who opened doors through tragedy in Nairibi can reach the warriors of L’Moti as well. Our prayer is that as we cultivate strong relationships within the L’Moti Moran community, God will be raising up, even now the leaders we need for the continuance and vitality of the L’Moti church, as well as the fledgling community fellowship in Lependera.
The transformation we’ve witnessed among the Nairibi Morans has revealed a ministry strategy with incredible potential for scaling across Northern Kenya. What began as a critically desired ministry outpost has become a proven pipeline for developing indigenous church leadership that stays rooted in village communities. Our focus on this demographic became clear when we realized that the current church leaders in all the village churches surrounding Nairibi were once former warriors themselves—they had naturally emerged as the spiritual shepherds because they were the ones who stayed in the communities. As we watch these former warriors now shepherding spiritual flocks, preaching the Gospel they once heard around roasted goats in the bush, we’re witnessing a beautiful echo of David’s own spiritual journey—from shepherd to warrior to king, ultimately shepherding the people of Israel. Peter’s training represents the next phase of this vision: multiplying Moran ministry across regions, adapting our strategies to even more challenging contexts, and trusting God to open doors in the most unlikely places. The warriors of L’Moti and beyond may seem unreachable now, isolated in their border lands where blood has been spilled for generations, but we serve a God who specializes in turning warriors into shepherds, outsiders into leaders, and tragedy into triumph. Our prayer is that within the next few years, we’ll see former Morans from multiple regions leading thriving village churches, their warrior training transformed into pastoral calling, their commitment to protecting flocks redirected toward protecting souls. The same young men who once tracked our movements from mountain ridges may soon be the very ones extending invitations to share the Gospel in communities we never could have reached on our own.
From one man He made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and He marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us. Acts 17:26-27