Millie Odhiambo’s slamming pastors touching women in prayers has sparked a national conversation on boundaries in Kenya’s vibrant church scene, as the fiery Suba North MP calls out clergy for crossing lines during spiritual sessions.
Speaking in parliament in Nairobi, Millie, a long-time advocate for gender rights, didn’t mince words: “Stop touching women’s breasts and buttocks during prayers. We are still on earth. What you are creating is excitement. You are not creating a spiritual search or surge; there is no need to put a physical touch between the pastor and woman.”
Her blunt remarks, captured in a viral clip trending online, ignited debates from pulpits to parlours about faith, consent, and power dynamics in worship.
Millie’s outburst came amid a broader push for accountability in religious spaces, where charismatic healing sessions often blur the line between divine intervention and human overreach.
The lawmaker, known for her no-holds-barred style since her days as a human rights defender, framed the issue as a symptom of unchecked authority.
“The spirit moves without groping. Keep a distance; let God do the work,” she urged. Her comments echo a growing chorus of complaints, with anonymous testimonies flooding online forums like JamiiForums, where congregants describe feeling violated under the guise of “laying hands”.
This isn’t Odhiambo’s first rodeo tackling taboo topics in faith communities. Back in 2023, she grilled televangelists over prosperity gospel scams during parliamentary hearings, vowing to expose “wolves in shepherd’s clothing”.
Now, her latest salvo targets a practice she deems predatory, especially vulnerable to exploitation in packed revivals where emotions run high.
“Pastors, you’re anointed, not entitled. Touch a forehead if you must, but respect bodies as temples, not playgrounds,” she added, her voice steady but laced with the fire of someone who’s mentored countless survivors of church-based abuse.
Reactions poured in swiftly, splitting along generational and doctrinal lines. Younger netizens on TikTok hailed her as a “shero”, with one viral stitch recreating the moment using puppet props for comedic emphasis: “Auntie Millie said what she said, and the Holy Ghost agrees.”
Influencer Karimi Njoroge amplified it on Instagram, posting, “Finally, someone calling out the ‘anointed squeeze’. Consent in church? Revolutionary.”
Conservative voices pushed back, with evangelical leaders saying in a measured response, “Prayer is sacred; any misuse dishonours God. We commit to training on dignity.”
The discourse taps into deeper wounds in Kenya’s religious landscape, where Pentecostalism booms with 30 million adherents, per recent Pew data, but scandals simmer beneath.
Reports from the Gender Violence Recovery Centre indicate a spike in faith-related harassment claims, up 25 per cent since 2022, often dismissed as “spiritual warfare”.
Odhiambo’s plea aligns with global pushes, like the Vatican’s 2024 guidelines on pastoral touch, but she insists local action is overdue.
“Parliament must legislate safeguards, from mandatory consent protocols to whistleblower protections in churches,” she proposed, hinting at a private member’s bill in the works. Women’s rights groups seized the momentum.
A Mombasa teacher recounted a “prayer session” that left her bruised and bewildered, while a Kisumu youth pastor defended boundaries in a heartfelt thread.
As night fell over Nairobi, Odhiambo wrapped her address with a call to empowerment: “Women, own your space in the sanctuary. Demand respect, and watch the spirit surge for real.”
Her words linger like a sermon unfinished, challenging Kenya’s faithful to reconcile fervour with fairness. In a nation where church attendance rivals voting turnout, Millie Odhiambo’s slams on pastors touching women in prayers could spark the reform revival long overdue. Will pulpits heed the prophet in politician’s garb, or will the excitement overshadow the essence?
