NYAHURURU, Kenya (Reuters) - Wearing tangled dreadlocks, 20-year-old Karimi Njau sniffs tobacco and quietly chants his morning religious greeting of "peace, peace."
But peace is the last thing many Kenyans would associate with Njau. He is a member of Mungiki, a religious sect blamed by police for hacking to death more than 20 people in a Nairobi slum, in some of the worst violence in the capital in years.
The slaughter, capping several years of rising prominence for the shadowy group, stoked fears among Kenyans that their relatively peaceful country is descending into a kind of anarchic criminality fueled by gangs beyond the control of the state.
Mungiki is even spoken of by some as a potential player on the political stage, due to alleged links to people with national influence. Police said the killings in March were done by Mungiki members retaliating for the deaths of two of their clan killed by a rival gang.
Mungiki denied involvement, but the government banned it and more than a dozen other militias to prevent further violence. Many followers went underground, frightened by police arrests.
But Njau and a group of 30 other members, mostly former street children dressed in ragged trousers and worn-out shirts, remain at the sect's headquarters in the dry and open fields of Nyahururu about 112 miles northeast of Nairobi.
Here a "Holy Priest," covered by smoke behind a charcoal cooker, dips a fly whisk in tepid water and special oil, then sprinkles the concoction on the heads of members in a cleansing ritual to strengthen their faith at this time of adversity.
Njau waxes philosophical when asked whether he thinks the government's crackdown signals the end of Mungiki.
"That is not for me to say. God is there to decide whether his mission can be stopped by a human being."
He raises his arms facing Mount Kenya, where the God of the Kikuyu's -- Kenya's largest tribe, from which most Mungiki members come -- is believed to reside. With his colleagues he sings "I place my hope under your wings Murungu (God)."
The Mungiki's spiritual founder, 34-year-old "Vicar General" Maina Njenga, dismisses the crackdown, maintaining that his movement was not responsible for the slum killings.
"Nobody can ban our movement except God alone, they will perish and leave us the way we are. We cannot be moved," he told Reuters. "They can arrest some people but they cannot arrest the movement. This is not a movement which has been started by a mortal man."
A CONTROVERSIAL MOVEMENT
Mungiki, Kikuyu for "multitude" or "masses," started as a religious movement in 1987 when Njenga saw a vision in which, he says, God commanded him to lead his people out of bondage.
Njenga says he then died and was resurrected four days later. Those who witnessed the "miracle" are his main followers.
The movement has spread rapidly, capturing the attention of jobless 18- to 40-year-olds with nothing to lose.
Analysts say Mungiki represents people dispossessed by a corrupt political order and mired at the bottom of society by an economy in its worst state since independence in 1963.
The poor, who make up more than half of Kenya's 30 million population, form a perfect breeding ground for the sect because it champions the sharing of meager resources.
"Mungiki is a pseudo-religious, pseudo-political and quasi-military organization which expresses the hopelessness that has been created by the deteriorating economic situation," said Dr. Edward Kisiangani, a history lecturer at Nairobi's Kenyatta University.
The group espouses a return to practices like taking snuff, male ear piercing and baptism of dreadlocked youths. Some newspapers have reported that Mungiki circumcise women and strip naked those who dress "indecently" -- charges it denies.
Mungiki leaders at one point said they had converted to Islam and later surprised Kenyans by announcing they had transformed their movement into a political outfit ready to take over government during elections due later this year.
Its members have raided police stations to rescue their own and violently repulsed police attacks during meetings.
In 1994 President Daniel arap Moi said the movement was planning clandestinely to destabilize his government.
The sect's combative ways have put off some Kenyans but its sense of mystery has attracted many more, analysts say.
LEADERS SAY MISUNDERSTOOD
Mungiki is sometimes compared to the Mau Mau guerrilla army which fought a brutal war with British colonialists in the 1950s, an association often used to justify its militancy.
But members say they abhor violence and have won enemies only because of their fight against oppression.
"We want good governance. We want justice and democracy to flourish. This is the reason they don't want us," said Njenga, a willowy, clean shaven figure in jacket and shiny red shoes.
Mungiki says the government, wary of the sect's growth, has a formed a hit squad which unleashes terror and then shifts the blame on to it.
"The government has a small Mungiki to counter the large Mungiki," said Ruo Kimani Ruo, the sect's High Priest.
Ruo says the movement has 3.5 million to 4 million members who each pay $0.13 a month to sustain it.
"If it were not for Mungiki I would have fallen in the depths of sin. I have avoided drugs, prostitution and diseases because of Mungiki," said Kamau Mwathe, a hardcore member arrested seven times and jailed for three years.
To free the poor, Mungiki will back its own parliamentary candidates in elections, Njenga says, adding that Mungiki backs neither the opposition nor government and pushes its own agenda.
But many suspect Mungiki is propped up by powerful politicians in both the government and the opposition, ready for hire as a decoy, when the people are discontented.
"It is a private army deployed by the wealthy to intimidate and divert the attention when there are questions about mismanagement of resources," Kisiangani said.