The first time Shadrack Kiplang’at placed a bet, he was 18-years-old and curious. It was in 2015, and he had just received his first mobile phone after completing high school.
“I had a friend who used to come over to our house. He had a phone, and I would see him placing bets on football matches; that is how I got pulled in,” he says.
What began as casual betting soon became routine, and when he joined the university, he started studying the games, understanding odds and placing the bets. Soon, the money started trickling in, and it went downhill from there for the now 29-year-old.
“The betting became intense, especially from 2020. Two years down the line, I realised I was hooked. I was placing high-stakes bets, losing money, and then placing even higher stakes to recover my losses.”
During this time, Shadrack had secured a job, but gambling quickly consumed his salary, often within days of getting paid.
Rev Kenneth Muruthi of the PCEA Marsabit Mission Area.
Photo credit: Pool
“I was earning about Sh15,000, and within two or three days, I had nothing left. I had no control.”
Sometimes he won, then gambled the entire amount, hoping for a bigger win, only to lose it all.
“You taste that win once, and you feel like you can do it again. I would start with maybe Sh5,000 on a Friday, it would grow to over Sh100,000, then by Sunday night everything would be gone.”
The debate over whether Christians should gamble comes down to the definition of sin
Photo credit: File
Gambling consumed nearly all his time and attention. Matches from across the world, from major leagues to obscure fixtures, became part of his daily routine.
“I didn’t have time for people. I was always calculating, always thinking about the next game.”
The addiction also clashed with his faith. As a gospel musician, he continued to pray, attend church, and write music, but internally, he was conflicted.
“I felt guilty, like I was betraying God,” he says. “I would pray, then go back to gambling. At some point, I felt like I was deceiving Him.”
In private moments, often alone, he turned to prayer, believing that only divine intervention would break him free from gambling.
In December 2023, Shadrack contacted a betting company to ask them to block his account, but they advised him to deactivate it on his end. A few days later, he signed out of all his betting apps and quit gambling.
“It starts with you deciding you want to quit,” he says. “No matter how much you pray, if you’re not ready, you can’t stop.”
Reflecting on the five years he spent gambling, he says the addiction thrives in silence. “No one knew what I was going through. That’s how it eats you up.”
Today, he speaks openly about his experience, using it as both a warning and a message of hope for those stuck in a loop.
“I now focus on my family, my music, my career. It feels good to have my time back, he says.
Gambling is presented as a form of entertainment and comes with a disclaimer to ‘indulge responsibly.’ Perhaps this is why many religious people don’t seem to be sure whether they should gamble or not. Among those who are conflicted is Solomon Shanana, a Christian teacher in his mid-30s.
“Gambling is sinning, but because of the high cost of living, some people see it as a way to earn and pay bills. I have used winnings to fend for my family,” says Solomon.
Like many young bettors, his entry point was casual; a friend introduced him to an app as they watched a football match.
“The highest I’ve ever won was Sh50,000 from a stake of Sh10. That is the moment I realised that betting can actually work.”
That possibility continues to reinforce his gambling habits. Unlike Shadrack, who battled internal conflict, Solomon is more disturbed by the judgment of fellow believers who disapprove of his betting.
“They act as if they have never done wrong, which is not true. Yes, betting is bad, but there are many other bad things people do.”
Still, Solomon has tried to quit, even going for weeks without placing a bet, but sooner or later, he finds himself back at it, especially when his friends share how much they are winning. He says that with the tough economic times, he is not ready to walk away from gambling just yet…
So, is gambling really a sin?
Kenneth Muruthi, a reverend of PCEA Marsabit Mission Area shares a biblical perspective: “The Bible does not directly mention gambling as we know it today, but it gives clear guidance,” he says, citing warnings about the love of money and the pursuit of quick wealth.
Rev Kenneth Muruthi of the PCEA Marsabit Mission Area.
Photo credit: Pool
The concern, he explains, lies in the posture of the heart.
“Gambling feeds discontentment and the desire for quick gain,” he says. “It can shift trust from God to chance and luck.”
He says he has seen how casual betting can spiral into deeper problems. He gives an example of a church member who gradually fell into debt and withdrew from the church due to shame.
“He started with small bets, just for fun. Over time, it became frequent. He began using money meant for his family and eventually avoided church,” he says.
“We walked through repentance and practical steps. He deleted betting apps, joined a fellowship for accountability and worked on financial discipline,” he says. “It was not instant, but he rebuilt his life.”
He emphasises that addressing gambling requires both spiritual and practical support, and that churches must create safe spaces where people can seek help without fear of judgement.
John Ng’ang’a, a Christian speaker and author who has spent more than five decades in ministry, is unequivocal in his view that gambling is sinful and spiritually dangerous.
“If everybody gambled, we would all be very hungry because farmers wouldn’t work. Why should you bother planting properly when there's a shortcut? Truth is, we must work. Even the manna that fell from heaven stopped the moment the Israelites arrived in Canaan and had fields to grow food. God is saying, I want to bless the work of your hands.”
On whether some types of betting are more acceptable than others, Ng’ang’a says, “We do not want to encourage betting in any form. Once you win, it will control you until you have spent all your money, including the winnings.”
He points to real-life consequences, including tragic outcomes among young people. “I was in a university the other day, and one of the professors was telling me that three people had died of suicide. When you gamble your school fees, what do you tell your parents?”
Beyond financial harm, Ng’ang’a argues that gambling erodes spiritual sensitivity. He cautions against normalising sin under the guise of weakness.
“There’s nothing wrong with struggling. There’s something wrong with giving up and accepting sin as a way of life.” Temptation, he adds, is inevitable, but it must be recognised for what it is.
“I can’t remember someone in church speaking against gambling. Just sample Sunday services, even on TV, it is a rare subject.”
He believes there is room for the church to do more in warning people about gambling, educating them and giving support to those affected by the vice.
“Someone once said that any pastor worth his salt must hold the Bible with one hand and the newspaper with the other. They must stay up to date with news, social media, and newspapers to understand the problems people are facing and provide answers. The answers are in the Bible.”
Tom Otieno, an Anglican priest, offers an alternative view, describing gambling as “a sin by character” rather than something explicitly mentioned in scripture. “Everything is permissible for me, but not everything is beneficial, nothing will make me a slave,” he says, referencing 1 Corinthians 6.
Gambling is presented as a form of entertainment and comes with a disclaimer to ‘indulge responsibly.’
Photo credit: Shutterstock
He identifies several traits that make gambling incompatible with Christian teaching: dependence on chance rather than God, the pursuit of quick riches, and the grief associated with financial ruin. “The scriptures in 1 Timothy 6:9 say that some people, loving money, have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs.”
The priest also addresses common misconceptions, such as the idea that “casting lots” in the Bible is equivalent to gambling. “Casting lots has nothing to do with luck; it was more of an election. So the soldiers tore Jesus’ clothes and divided them among themselves. It was based on certainty,” he explains.
Rev Tom Otieno.
Photo credit: Pool
For those recovering from gambling addiction, he says that practical steps like prayer, changing social circles, and managing income are very helpful.
“Ensure that any money you get doesn’t stay on your phone; put it into savings. Stay accountable, and even if you relapse, remember it is a temporary setback, and go back to your recovery journey. Nowadays, we work with psychiatrists to help gambling addicts. There is help; you need to reach out for it.”
Like Ng’ang’a, he believes the church has not done enough to address the vice. “Many ministers are not clear whether gambling is a sin. This lack of consensus has limited meaningful engagement.”
“We need to train the clergy on these matters and enhance support offered to people who have been affected by gambling. Also, condemning a behaviour isn’t the same as stigmatising people, so how the church handles gamblers matters a lot.”
Ultimately, the debate over whether Christians should gamble comes down to the definition of sin. “Sin means to miss the mark or the standard set by God. Gambling reflects issues of greed, misplaced trust and poor stewardship. So by God’s standards, it is a sin.”
