What If Sacred Geography Was Never Lost—Only Reoriented?

For a long time, I carried a quiet discomfort while reading the Bible. Not with the text—but with the map. Mountains collapsed into one another; valleys seemed too small for the events described; rivers appeared, disappeared, then reappeared under different names; sacred journeys that should have taken weeks were compressed into hours. The land felt… strained, as if it were being asked to hold a memory larger than itself.

This book series - Reconstructing Ancient Israel in East Africa (kindle , Amazon) - began with a simple question: What if the problem isn’t the text—but the geography we’ve been using to read it?

Volume I: The Land Remembers

This first volume is not a final argument. It is a reorientation. Rather than beginning with conclusions, it begins with method: How landscapes are remembered; how names survive even when maps change; how ritual, language, and place preserve memory long after political borders erase it. I explore why ancient Israel came to be located exclusively in the Levant—and how medieval cartography, colonial scholarship, and theological convenience gradually collapsed a far larger sacred landscape into a much smaller one. Then I ask what happens when we uncollapse it.

Why East Africa?

Across Kenya and the wider East African region, the biblical landscape appears not as fragments, but as a coherent whole: Mountains that stand alone where the text requires separation; Valleys wide enough to host entire narratives; Rivers that flow in the correct sequence; Place-names that retain meaning, sound, and function; Ritual practices that mirror ancient descriptions rather than symbolic interpretations. This is not about replacing one dogma with another. It is about letting land speak before interpretation does.

What This Book Is—and Is Not

This series is not an attempt to “prove” faith. It does not require belief to be meaningful. It is an interdisciplinary work—bridging geography, linguistics, oral history, ritual studies, and cultural memory. It treats African landscapes not as metaphors, but as archives. Volume I lays the foundation: the problem, the assumptions, the method, and the first reorientation of sacred space. Subsequent volumes will move deeper—into specific journeys, named locations, historical transitions, and the long consequences of relocating memory.

Why I’m Publishing This in Volumes

Because this work resists compression. Sacred geography is not a footnote. It is a framework. Each volume builds deliberately, allowing the reader to walk the land slowly—without being rushed toward conclusions that deserve time, evidence, and reflection.

An Invitation

You don’t have to agree with everything in this book to engage it. You only need to be willing to ask a different question. What if the land we’ve been reading the Bible on… isn’t the land it was written on? That question is where this journey begins.