Pentecostals buckle up Africa's Bible belt

Pentecostals buckle up Africa's Bible belt

As the miracle-healer descended from the sky in an immaculate white helicopter, his disciples cheered with joy: "Hallelujah! Praise Jesus."

Gospel songs thundered through the speakers as televangelist Benny Hinn landed outside Uganda's national stadium last month, before addressing 40,000 enraptured faithful.

His white suit picked out by floodlights, the U.S.-based preacher promised a "miracle crusade" to heal the sick, make the blind see and the lame walk. "In Jesus' name, lift your hands and sing," he cried, almost drowned out by cheering.

Pentecostal religion is mushrooming in Africa.

Promising prosperity, miracle cures and life-changing spiritual experiences, the "born again" faiths that are the staple of America's multi-millionaire televangelists are fast taking over the world's poorest continent.

For many, they offer hope. In Hinn's front seats, ringed with collection buckets, sat people in wheelchairs, AIDS patients, children with deformities.

"I want the power of the Lord to descend on me and lift me out of this chair. I want to be like you," said John Wilson, a 58-year-old Ugandan who broke his spine in a car accident.

The U.S. Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life says Pentecostalism is growing globally, with a quarter of the world's 2 billion Christians thought to be members of these faiths that emphasize speaking in tongues, divine healing, prophesy and a strongly literal interpretation of Bible stories.

In Africa all churches are booming, but Pentecostalism is overtaking traditional Catholic and Anglican faiths brought by European colonizers over a century ago.

Last year, one million Kenyans -- nearly one in 30 -- attended a service by American preacher T. D. Jakes in Nairobi.

Missionary activity has so worried Africa's Islamic north that Algeria passed a law in 2005 making it a criminal offence to convert Muslims to another faith.

For Pentecostals, the Holy Spirit -- the third person of the Christian Trinity -- plays an active role in life, performing miracles and answering prayers. This appeals greatly to a continent beset by poverty and sickness.

America's preachers have long grasped the potential material rewards of their spiritual gifts.

Hinn has said he earns up to $1 million a year, lives in a $10 million seaside mansion and owns a private jet. Creflo Dollar, who visited Uganda this month, drives a Rolls Royce.

Africa's preachers are learning fast.

At Uganda's Holy Fire Ministry -- a marquee beside a dirt track near the airport -- hundreds line up for blessings from "Prophet" Pius Muwanguzi, whose purported talents include curing AIDS by touching the forehead.

In the kneeling congregation: a polio victim, a blind man and a girl who lost her phone.

The pastor touches an old woman, she faints. Then out come the collection envelopes. Minimum is 100,000 Uganda shillings ($62.5), although the poor can give as little as 10,000 to receive a blessing.

Muwanguzi, whose own blessings include a smart suit and a new Toyota Land Cruiser, declined an interview.

Francis Adroa gave her car to a Ugandan church promising to cure her of HIV/AIDS. The miracle failed, she got sicker. And she's now a pedestrian.

Moses Malay heads a Ugandan organization helping what he calls victims of "pulpit fraud" after quitting a church whose pastor claimed divine powers.

"I saw people robbed and I participated. How do they do it? Simple. They instill hope, they nurture it, they reap."