The tagline echoed through the corridors of Eldoret's main prison, carrying with it a promise of hope and redemption. For the mission team, this outreach was more than an event—it was a calling, a divine appointment to touch lives within prison walls

In Prison But Not a Prisoner.

The Opportunity

Guided by God’s grace, the team stepped into both the women’s and men’s wings of the prison. Eighteen missioners—men and women alike—had answered the call. Their purpose was clear: to bring light to darkness, to offer solace to the brokenhearted, and to remind those behind bars that they were not forgotten.

Ministering to Women

Inside the women’s prison, Winnie Nasike stood before a captive audience. Over a hundred inmates, some with children by their side, hungered for the Word. Their eyes bore the weight of their stories—stories of mistakes, regrets, and lost dreams. But as Winnie spoke, they leaned in, hungry for hope. Her message resonated: “You are not defined by your past. God’s grace is greater.” Nine women surrendered their hearts to Christ. Tears flowed freely as chains of guilt and shame began to break. In that sacred moment, the prison walls seemed thinner, and heaven touched earth.

A Warm Welcome in the Men’s Prison

Across the compound, the men’s prison welcomed the missioners with unexpected warmth. Pastor Tom Ogalo stepped forward, his voice steady yet compassionate. His message cut through the hardened hearts: “God’s love knows no prison walls. He offers freedom even in confinement.” Thirty-nine men listened intently. Some had grown cynical, their hope extinguished by years of incarceration. But Pastor Tom’s words sparked a glimmer of faith. They saw themselves not as mere inmates, but as souls worthy of redemption.

Worship Behind Bars

And then it happened—a chorus of praise erupted. In both wings, voices lifted, hands raised. Inmates who had forgotten how to smile now sang with vigor. Their worship defied the steel bars and concrete cells. For a moment, they were free—free to express gratitude, free to believe in a love that transcended circumstances. The missioners joined in, their hearts swelling. They had become conduits of grace, messengers of a love that reached beyond prison gates. The budget for this ministry? It came from generous hearts—members who gave sacrificially, whether in kind or cash. Their gifts fueled hope, turning prison cells into sanctuaries.

Gratitude and Commitment

As the mission concluded, the team gathered. They shared stories—the woman who clung to her newborn as she prayed, the man who whispered forgiveness to a fellow inmate. They marveled at the resilience they witnessed—the strength of faith in unlikely places. “We are not prisoners,” Pastor Tom declared. “We are ambassadors of hope.” And so, they left the prison, hearts full. They knew they had not merely visited; they had connected. They had seen glimpses of eternity within those walls. To the generous givers, they expressed sincere gratitude. Their support had made it possible—the cards, the fruits, the messages of love. Together, they had brought hope to the incarcerated, proving that even in prison, hearts could soar.