Nairobi, Kenya – A dramatic confrontation unfolded Sunday at Jesus Compassion Ministries Church along Nairobi’s Eastern Bypass when Bishop Benson Gathungu Kamau openly accused Safaricom of deliberately cutting network coverage during a massive fundraising drive for teenage TikTok sensation Vincent Kaluma.
The allegations, made before thousands of congregants, came as Kenyans attempted to channel donations via M-Pesa to support the 17-year-old’s ailing father.
Within 30 minutes, supporters had raised over KSh 2 million despite what Bishop Gathungu described as coordinated sabotage by both Kenya Power and the country’s dominant telecommunications provider.
“To our network provider, Safaricom, we want to raise money for this family,” the bishop pleaded from the pulpit, his frustration evident as the congregation struggled to complete mobile money transactions.
The service, livestreamed to thousands online, had drawn massive crowds eager to celebrate Kaluma Boy’s remarkable journey from poverty to a full aviation scholarship announced just days earlier.
The network blackout sparked immediate fury on social media, with Kenyans drawing parallels to alleged internet throttling during last year’s anti-government protests.
“When divine gatherings shake the system, even power and network seem to ‘coincidentally’ go off,” one user posted, capturing the deep suspicion that has taken root among citizens weary of corporate power plays.
Kaluma, whose real name is Vincent Kaluma, became a household name through raw, emotional TikTok videos showing his daily grind caring for his bedridden father while juggling backbreaking odd jobs in Othaya, Nyeri County.
His content, marked by unwavering filial devotion and quiet dignity in the face of hardship, struck a chord with millions of Kenyans who saw their own struggles reflected in his story.
The teenager’s rise has been meteoric.
Just weeks ago, he was unknown.
Today, well-wishers stream to his humble home, a full scholarship to the East African School of Aviation bears his name, and Bishop Gathungu’s church has adopted his family’s cause as a rallying point for what many see as grassroots resistance to systemic neglect.
The timing of Sunday’s disruptions raised eyebrows. According to attendees, Kenya Power cut electricity to the church area hours before the service began.
Then, precisely as the fundraising peaked, Safaricom’s network vanished. Congregants, many clutching phones displaying “No Service” notifications, described the situation as “demonic” and evidence of forces threatened by ordinary Kenyans organizing outside traditional power structures.
This is not Safaricom’s first brush with such accusations.
In 2024, the telco attributed a major outage during politically charged protests to “reduced bandwidth on key internet traffic cables,” an explanation that satisfied few critics. Now, with Sunday’s incident, those old wounds have reopened.
The convergence of Kaluma Boy’s story with broader questions about digital rights and corporate accountability has created an explosive narrative.
Here is a young man who asked for nothing, simply shared his reality, and watched as strangers transformed his life.
Yet even this organic outpouring of generosity seemingly triggered intervention from entities whose motives remain murky.
Social media users have begun connecting dots between Sunday’s events and a separate viral campaign currently sweeping TikTok.
Kenyans are mobilizing online to fund critical medical equipment for understaffed public hospitals, with videos showing dire conditions in wards sparking donations channeled through mobile money platforms.
The hospital drive has gained momentum precisely because it bypasses traditional fundraising gatekeepers, relying instead on the same grassroots energy that lifted Kaluma Boy.

Critics now wonder whether Sunday’s network failure represents a broader pattern of interference with citizen-led initiatives that challenge established systems.
If ordinary Kenyans can raise millions in minutes for a teenager’s family, what does that say about the effectiveness of conventional charity structures? If TikTok users can equip hospitals faster than government budgets, who loses influence?
Despite the obstacles, the fundraiser exceeded its targets.
Donations continued flowing once network service mysteriously returned, and Bishop Gathungu announced additional support for Kaluma’s family.
The teenager, overwhelmed by the response, has become a symbol of something larger than his personal story.
As one supporter noted, “This is more than a viral moment. It’s a lesson in honoring our parents and community kindness.”
Safaricom has not responded to requests for comment on Bishop Gathungu’s allegations.
The company’s silence, however, speaks volumes to a public increasingly skeptical of corporate explanations for convenient technical failures.
In an era where mobile money transactions power everything from school fees to medical bills, control over network access translates to control over economic participation itself.
For Kaluma Boy, Sunday’s drama added another unexpected chapter to his extraordinary story. For Safaricom, it may mark a turning point in public perception.
And for the thousands who gathered at JCM Church or watched online, the message was clear: Kenyans will find ways to support each other, network coverage or not.
The question now is whether Kenya’s most powerful telecommunications company will address the accusations head-on or allow suspicion to harden into certainty.
As digital organizing becomes the primary tool for grassroots mobilization, from hospital drives to family fundraisers, the stakes for maintaining public trust have never been higher.