The Valley of Death: Our Next Frontier
Where one man’s walk led to five churches—and the journey continues
There are places on earth that feel untouched.
And then there’s the Suguta Valley.
Known as “The Valley of Death,” the Suguta Valley stretches roughly 625 square miles just under 1,000 feet above sea level. Temperatures hover between a mildly aggressive 90 and amoldering 122 degrees. Volcanic sand dunes roll into endless sand pans. A seasonal lake shimmers in the distance. It looks like the surface of the moon.
Remote doesn’t quite cover it.
To reach this region, our staff begin with a bus ride, and when I say a bus ride, I mean one bus. One bus makes the 145-mile journey each day to the town of Baragoi. Miss it, and you wait until tomorrow.
From Baragoi, the journey continues. You can walk 7½ miles under the equatorial sun or catch a motorbike for $3.25 to Nachola.
That’s where the story gets interesting.
The Story of Nachola
Nachola is a small town with five churches. Five.
Every Sunday, those five churches gather together for lunch. They celebrate. They mingle. I imagine they compare worship sets and sermon notes too. Different denominations. One table.
But here’s what’s even more remarkable. When our Frontier staff asked how the name of Jesus first came to Nachola, one name surfaced again and again.
One man.
One man walked the road into that unreached village. One man shared the Gospel. One man spoke the name of Jesus. And today, every Christ follower in that town knows who brought the message.
Five churches stand in dusty soil because one person walked.
When churches in Baragoi heard what was happening, they came running. Five denominations emerged from the same dry earth. Messy? Maybe. A little frustrating? If I’m honest, yes.
But when service ends, what do they do?
They come together.
They celebrate.
They break bread.
That’s the Kingdom.
The Next Steps Outward
When our first Frontier teams arrived in Nachola, they persuaded a few church members to walk even further.
Two and a half miles west.
Four miles east.
Two villages. No church. No known believers.
They went anyway.
As of this writing, we have confirmation of one church in each of those small villages. A beginning. A seed in dry ground.
But now, our focus shifts. Now the frontier is deeper.
The Bullseye: Suguta
The tiny town of Suguta sits on the rim of the valley.
Forty-four miles away.
Four hours one way.
Twenty dollars for the ride.
Yes, you read that correctly, 44 miles in four hours.
Remote? Definitely.
From Suguta’s single dusty street, you look down into the vast, desolate expanse of the Valley of Death, where there are communities who have never heard the name of Jesus.
Not once.
No church.
No gathering.
No story of the cross told in their language.
That’s our bullseye.
Why We Go
Frontier work isn’t glamorous. It’s not efficient. It doesn’t fit neatly into travel brochures.
It is hot. It is slow. It is inconvenient.
And it is necessary.
If one man could walk into Nachola and ignite a movement that led to five churches, what might happen if consistent, committed teams walk into Suguta?
The Valley of Death doesn’t intimidate us.
It compels us.
Because resurrection stories tend to start in places that look impossible.
So the question isn’t whether it’s remote.The question is simple:
When are you coming?
And yes, once we’re done, there’s some incredible Nile perch fishing nearby.
But first, we walk.
We cannot do this work without you. Your support helps send our staff into these remote places, providing the travel, supplies, and resources needed to establish local churches and strengthen entire communities—creating a ripple effect that lasts for generations.
Will you partner with us by giving $100/month to help reach unreached villages? The Gospel will be made known, and we will not stop until every person has heard.
Blessings,
Tom Stickney
Executive Director of ACO