In the vast, sun-scorched expanse of North-Western Kenya, where dust swirls endlessly and the dry air crackles with heat, lies Kakuma Refugee Camp – home to over 200,000 refugees fleeing war, persecution, and unimaginable suffering. Amid the rows of makeshift shelters and the ever-present tension of camp life, one institution stands as a steadfast source of solace and strength – the Catholic Church.
At the heart of this mission is Fr. Lawrence Wambua, a Salesian of Don Bosco Missionary who has dedicated his life to nurturing hope in a place where despair could easily take root.
Fr. Wambua arrived in Kakuma in September 2023 to serve as the Parish Priest. From the onset, his mission has been clear: to walk with the wounded, nurture faith, and restore dignity in a camp filled with broken stories and shattered dreams. Through him and the Catholic Church’s pastoral presence, many refugees are rediscovering their faith and their sense of belonging.
When Fr. Wambua first arrived in Kakuma, he was struck not by the hardship but by the resilience of the people.
“When I looked into their eyes, I didn’t see despair. I saw hope,” he said, during a visit to Holy Cross Parish inside Kakuma Refugee Camp in June 2025. “They have endured so much war, loss, and trauma. They long for more, and they believe in a better future.”
Established in 1992 in Kenya’s Turkana County, Kakuma Refugee Camp was initially a safe haven for the Lost Boys of Sudan, a group of over 20,000 Sudanese boys who were displaced or orphaned during the Second Sudanese Civil War between 1983 and 2005. Over the years, it has grown into one of the largest refugee settlements in Africa, now hosting over 200,000 people from more than 20 countries. The camp is divided into four main zones and is complemented by the Kalobeyei Settlement, which was introduced in 2016 as a more integrated and sustainable model. Refugees face chronic challenges: insecurity, inadequate water supply, food shortages, and limited access to education and jobs. But within these hardships, the Catholic Church has emerged as a consistent source of hope and healing.
Stories of resilience and renewal
Emerald Bahati’s hands tremble slightly as she recounts her escape from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Her nightmare began when her husband was arrested for defiling their five-year-old daughter. After gaining freedom from jail, he returned home, not in remorse, but in rage.
“He beat me every day,” she whispers. “Then he started threatening to kill me.”
Fearing for her life, Emerald fled to a convent, where she worked as a tailor. But when her husband tracked her down, she knew she had to run further. In 2020, she arrived in Kakuma with her four children, hoping for safety. Yet, even here, danger followed.
“One night, thugs raided my house,” she says. “My neighbors saved me. Later, my daughter was attacked by men from the host community. I thought of ending my life.”
It was the Catholic Church that pulled her back from the brink. “Our Parish Priest prayed with me, counselled me,” she says, her voice steadying. “Now, I spend hours in adoration. The Eucharist gives me strength.”
Today, Emerald is a leader in the Catholic Women’s Association (CWA), a testament to her restored faith.
Nina Wabana’s story is one of unimaginable horror and redemption. Once a successful fish trader in Goma, DRC, her life was shattered when Interahamwe militia ambushed her vehicle, killing two passengers and kidnapping her. For two years, she was held captive in the forest, forced to cook for the militants and endure abuse. When she was finally rescued, she returned home – only to be rejected by her husband, who had remarried.
“He sold our land to ensure I had nowhere to go,” she says bitterly.
When her husband and his new wife were murdered by robbers, his family accused Nina and vowed to kill her. She fled with her children in the dead of night, smuggled across borders in a fish truck. In Kakuma, the Church became her sanctuary.
“Fr. Lawrence has revived my faith,” she says. “I’ve seen so many baptisms, so many people coming back to God. My daughter now teaches at the Savio Club – it gives her purpose.”
Juliane Mkashaka and Sandrine Niyakwizera, young women born into conflict in Burundi, now live in Kalobeyei. Despite the hardships of refugee life, both say the Church has been a pillar in their spiritual and emotional healing. “Our lives are tough,” says Sandrine, “but we are anchored in faith. I have come this far because of the Church.”
The Church’s mission in Kakuma
Fr. Lawrence shepherds a flock of over 20,000 Catholics across nine outstations, guiding their spiritual journey through sacraments, catechism classes, and small Christian communities. Despite language barriers and ethnic divisions, pastoral care unites the camp’s diverse populations.
The Church’s outreach extends beyond the sanctuary. Educational initiatives, such as the Savio Clubs, offer after-school tuition, teaching children languages, mathematics, hygiene, and faith. Over 1,000 learners benefit annually. The program, supported by well-wishers, also provides food and scholarships.
“We started the Savio Clubs as language classes,” explains Fr. Wambua, “but they have grown to become peacebuilding hubs. Children from different countries learn together, build confidence, and break down ethnic divides.”
Ecclesial movements like the Catholic Women’s Association, Pontifical Missionary Childhood, and Missionary Youth Movement are also thriving. Recently, Fr. Wambua commissioned 245 women into the Catholic Women’s Association (CWA). He also commissioned 162 children to the PMC and 100 youth to the Missionary Youth Movement (MYM), while 20 women were baptized. This year, over 600 children will be commissioned into the PMC.
“It gives me great joy to see this growth,” He says. “Faith is transforming lives here.”
Restoring hope
For many, the Church is not just a place of worship but a home. Through prayer, community service, and fellowship, it has helped refugees rebuild their self-worth. Angelique Niyimbona, a 21-year-old from Burundi, now teaches at the Savio Club and is a vibrant MC at Church events.
“Fr. Lawrence believes in us,” she says. “He has given us leadership roles, and that has empowered us.”
Faith has also been a balm for old wounds. Fr. Wambua recounts the story of a woman tormented by trauma and witchcraft who, through consistent prayer and pastoral care, found healing and purpose.
“She had tried to take her life. But now, she’s stable and fully committed to the Church.”
Beyond faith, the Church has become a beacon of social support. During times of food shortages, reduced donor funding, and water crises, it steps in with whatever little it can offer. And still, it is not enough.
“We need more,” Fr. Lawrence pleads. “Fuel is expensive, distances are vast, and the needs are overwhelming. But we continue because we believe in the mission.”
A vision for unity and faith
In Kakuma, where survival is a daily struggle, the Catholic Church is not just preaching hope – it is living it. Through faith, education, and pastoral care, the Church is helping refugees to recreate their lives away from home. And despite the challenges, Fr. Wambua remains unwavering.
“I dream of a day when refugees here live as brothers and sisters, beyond ethnic divisions,” he says. “We need prayers and support. These are not just refugees – they are God’s children, longing for dignity.”
And as the sun sets over Kakuma, casting long shadows over the camp, the sound of music rises from Holy Cross Parish. Inside, Emerald, Nina, Juliane, Sandrine, and Angelique kneel in prayer – united not by their past suffering, but by the hope they have found in faith.
In a place where survival is a daily battle, the Catholic Church stands as a beacon, proving that even in the harshest conditions, hope can flourish.
