Pastor Kanyari Akinyonga TikTok live video resurfaces in the wake of a tender family video that’s split online opinions, dragging the controversial pastor back into the spotlight just days after ex-wife Betty Bayo’s tragic passing. The video resurfaces after Mixed reactions followed a video of Prophet Kanyari bonding with his daughter Sky that has surfaced online.
The controversial pastor was filmed enjoying quality time with his daughter just days after the death of his ex-wife, gospel singer Betty Bayo.
A deleted clip from July, showing Prophet Pastor Victor Kanyari in what many called an explicit live session at home, has bubbled up again on social media, clashing ugly with fresh footage of him cradling daughter Sky in grief-stricken hugs at home.
Netizens, still raw from Bayo’s sudden death, are torn between heartbreak, sympathy and revulsion, with people exploding online with a lot of past posts overnight.
Pastor Kanyari kunyonga live
The old video, scrubbed from platforms months ago, allegedly captured Kanyari in a solo act of self-pleasure during a casual TikTok stream, his Salvation Healing Ministry backdrop adding a layer of hypocrisy that fuelled initial outrage.
Leaked screenshots and whispers from insiders painted a picture of the preacher, tipsy and unfiltered, mumbling prayers mid-motion before yanking the plug.
“It was like watching a man of God unravel in real time,” one anonymous viewer said back in summer, when the clip first scorched feeds.
Kanyari, no stranger to scandals from fake miracle busts to that infamous 2014 “blessings for cash” sting, dismissed it then as “deepfake devilry”, but the delete button spoke louder than sermons.
Fast-forward to this week, and the internet’s mood swings wildly. Bayo’s untimely exit – rumoured to be leukaemia after months of health battles – left two children, their co-parented pride, shattered in KNH’s corridors.
“Daddy’s here, little warrior,” he soothes, rocking her like a lost lullaby. The moment, meant to humanise a flawed father amid funeral prep, instead unearthed the buried beast: that TikTok ghost.
“How does a man who akinyonga on live now play protector? Sky needs therapy, not trauma,” fired a concerned netizen.
Defenders rally quickly. Church loyalists, clustered in Salvation Healing’s online fellowships, frame it as pure paternal love in crisis.
“Victor’s hugging away her pain; haters drag up dirt to deny healing,” posted another fan sharing Bible verses on forgiveness amid the fray.
Sky’s stepdad, businessman Hiram Gitau – whom she adorably introduced to Kanyari in a pre-tragedy clip – even liked the video, signalling a blended-family truce.
Prophet Kanyari bonding with his daughter
But the backlash bites deeper, with women’s forums on Facebook branding the hugs “boundary-blurring” in light of his history.
“From pulpit predator to papa bear? Make it make sense,” vented the activist.
Kanyari’s silence amplifies the echo chamber. Holed up at his Kayole parsonage, he’s skipped media huddles, letting proxies preach restraint.
This collision of old sins and fresh sorrow spotlights Kenya’s tangled faithscape, where pastors wield influence like double-edged swords.
Kanyari’s arc – from TV gold to TikTok tabloid – mirrors a broader churn: 2025’s creator economy clashing with clerical cloaks, as Gen Z flocks to reels over revivals.
For Sky, tucked away with aunts as vigil candles flicker, the uproar is the backdrop to bedtime stories unread. As Bayo’s requiem looms next week, will Kanyari step up sans spotlight, or let the akinyonga spectre steal the show?