Stephen Kitsao lost his ability to walk at age 11 when he suffered a spinal injury from a fall out of a coconut tree. Kitsao couldn’t afford a wheelchair, so his father carried him to school every day in a tomato crate fastened to the back of his bicycle.
“Every new day began the same way—in the crate, in my father’s arms, with both of us pretending it was normal,” said Kitsao, who is now 31. His school in Kilifi County on the coast of Kenya lent him a wheelchair donated by a charity to use during the day, but he couldn’t use it for the 40-minute trek home. Kitsao didn’t get an electric wheelchair until he entered college.
Superstition also plagued his life. As he grew up, others in the community shunned him, fearing that if they got close, they would get life-threatening diseases or end up in a wheelchair too. In May 2022, a mob, including the pastor of an unregistered local church called Watumishi (Swahili for “servants”), stormed Kitsao’s home. They accused his father of practicing witchcraft, claiming it resulted in Kitsao’s paralysis and another child born with an illness.
The crowd threw stones at the house and at then 28-year-old Kitsao’s father. Kitsao’s 12-year-old sister, Eunice Masha, tried to shield their father with her body. By the time the mob left, they had destroyed Kitsao’s home, left his sister with permanent scars, and stoned his father to death. The police arrested seven people but released all but one due to lack of sufficient evidence.
Kitsao, now a youth leader at Mkunguni Light of God Church, a Pentecostal church in Nairobi said the incident caused him to question God, wondering in anger and confusion why God allowed his father to be killed. Yet Kitsao has leaned on his faith in his lowest moments: “I was helped to understand that God is all-knowing and that he was going to be with me.”
For years, cultural beliefs about disabilities as a curse from God or a sign of bad luck, coupled with poor health care infrastructure in the country, have left Kenyans with disabilities at risk of mistreatment and without adequate medical care. Today, the government—and Christian churches and ministries—are trying to change that.
In January, Kenya updated its disability laws to better prevent the abuse of those with disabilities and increase access to public spaces, adding stiffer penalties for violations. Kenya’s Constitution and the 2025 Persons with Disabilities Act guarantee accessibility in public spaces and transportation.
Still, rights on paper don’t always translate to daily life.
Kitsao told CT people with wheelchairs face discrimination in transportation. His commute to classes at Kenyatta University in Nairobi, Kenya, takes him at least twice as long as it would take a regular commuter. Drivers must carry Kitsao onto the bus and properly secure his wheelchair. Some don’t want the hassle.
“Minibuses pass me by, one after another, and the few that stop often demand double fare for me and my wheelchair,” Kitsao said. He usually gets to the bus stop two hours early to compensate.
Once Kitsao tried to get a ride to a job interview, but vehicle after vehicle passed as drivers refused to take him: “By the time one finally agreed, I arrived—late, tired, and humiliated before I’d even stepped into the room.”
Landing a job as a person living with a disability is equally challenging. Since 2003, Kenyan disability law has required public institutions to reserve at least 5 percent of their jobs for people with disabilities, and mandates accessibility standards in housing and public infrastructure.
In 2022, only a third of institutions had an employee with a disability, and few public institutions bother to hold open the mandated number of positions for them.
Kitsao said many companies also lack wheelchair ramps and accessible bathrooms. He recalls working for three months at a TV station where the security guard and a friend had to carry him to his desk every day because the building had no ramp: “It was demeaning.”
Kenyans like Kitsao also struggle to get and maintain wheelchairs.
Christian ministries such as Joni and Friends and Christian Aid Ministries provide Kenyans with free mobility devices through outreach programs, alleviating some of the need. But the few wheelchairs available for purchase in Kenya can be too expensive or poorly sized for the user. If organizations that donate devices don’t provide service support, many wheelchairs break down within months.
“It’s a half solution,” said Kenneth Gichohi, an assistive-technology innovator from Nairobi.
Gichohi explained that although wheelchairs qualify for tax exemptions, few buyers know that, so they often pay inflated prices. An electric wheelchair can cost between 150,000 and 300,000 Kenyan shillings (about $1,200–2,300 USD), up to a third of the average yearly income in Kenya. Since Kenya doesn’t have service centers to repair these devices, Gichohi said fixing them is nearly impossible: “We need a radical shift in how this space is managed.”
Some churches, recognizing the need to service wheelchairs, now conduct follow-ups for the maintenance of donated mobility devices.
Churches are finding other ways to integrate congregants with disabilities. Some have begun to modify their facilities—installing ramps, wider aisles, and wheelchair-accessible restrooms. Some congregations now include disability ministries, offering job training, free medical camps, or spaces for fellowship.
The nondenominational Nairobi Chapel’s disability ministry doesn’t stop at distributing wheelchairs or widening doorways. Enzi—which means “treasured”—also provides special needs classes for children, bimonthly parent support meetings, and sign language interpretation in one service each week. Leaders teach about disabilities in sermons and Sunday school lessons, even using disability-themed coloring worksheets for its children’s programs.
When Kitsao joined Mkunguni Light of God at age 20, leaders installed a ramp and welcomed him as part of the congregation. “I’m grateful that the church sees me beyond my disability and they preach true doctrines,” Kitsao said.
Because many Kenyans—including Christians—believe witchcraft or punishments from God cause disabilities, some nonprofits, such as Kupenda for the Children, hold workshops to train pastors to confront these stigmas in the culture and the church.
For Kitsao, correcting false teaching about disability is personal; the pastor and the unregistered church group that murdered his father still operate today.
“I can’t harbor resentment toward all churches because of them,” he said. “But I carry some bitterness for that specific group. They’re still out there preaching.”
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