The scariest sound in Kenya is the sound of silence. It is the haunting hum of silence left behind by voices calling for justice, muffled by fear; the silence of many families waiting, searching, and hoping that one day their loved ones will come back to them, only for them to be found in shallow graves or not at all. A dark pattern is emerging – a pattern that is running at the core of human rights within the country: abduction and extrajudicial killing.
The Shadows That Swallow the Unseen
People have begun to disappear, one after another. Activists, journalists, businessmen, ordinary people – no one is beyond reach. Some are taken away in broad daylight by masked figures who know exactly what they are doing and how. Others are taken away in the dead of night; they leave behind broken doors, unfinished meals, and shattered families. A creeping trend, the silence surrounding it even more troubling.
Just recently, a group of men from Mlolongo went missing – just like that – their fates unknown, their families left to agonize over this limbo. Public outcry follows each case; hashtags trend; vigils are held. But the cycle goes on. The fear is no longer whispered; it is loud, tangible, and growing.
A Government’s Silence, A People’s Fear
Recently, Public Service Cabinet Secretary Justin Muturi stood before grieving families and dropped a bombshell: his own son had been abducted. Unlike many others, he had the means to call the President and secure his son’s release. But, as he rightly asked, “What about those who can’t?”
The question lingers in everyone’s mind. A government that is to protect its people now finds itself on trial in the court of public opinion. Where does a nation move forward when its citizens live in fear that those who should be protectors will be their persecutors? Where is justice, or at best, where selective justice silences the state?
The Invisible Courtroom: Justice Denied
For the families of the missing, time works differently. Days turn into weeks, then months, with no closure in sight. The legal system, often sluggish and weighed down by bureaucracy, offers little hope. Investigations stall, evidence disappears, and cases are quietly buried under the weight of new headlines.
But the despair is broken by voices continuing to rise – human rights organizations, courageous activists, and the last remaining brave journalists – who raise questions. Dangerous as it might be, it’s the final barrier against an absolute breakdown in the rule of law.
Where Do We Go from Here?
Kenya is at a crossroads. This new wave of abductions and killings is not just a political issue; it’s a human rights crisis – a test whether justice can actually exist under a system hell-bent on silencing those seeking it.
Accountability is where change starts. The government needs not only to acknowledge these disappearances but also to take drastic action. Independent investigations, transparent reporting, and real reforms in law enforcement are imperative.
The international community must also take notice-human rights violations should not be hidden behind diplomatic ties or economic interests.
The families of those missing must now wait, clinging to a hope that justice is not added to the casualty list. But again, hope alone isn’t a solution.
To that end, Kenya must answer a very fundamental question: Will it remain a land where people vanish willy-nilly or fight to become a nation where every voice, no matter how small, is heard?
By William Muthama