Kenya is staring down a security crisis that can no longer be blamed on bandits or activists alone. From the shocking murder of Catholic priest Fr. Alois Bett in Kerio Valley to the arrest of digital activist Rose Njeri, recent events expose a breakdown of trust, law, and legitimacy in the very institutions meant to protect the public. In Kerio, teachers, doctors, and missionaries have fled as armed groups tighten their grip — filling the vacuum left by a state that shows up too late, with too little. More than 70 schools have been shut down, a major hospital has closed, and even church leaders now speak of “a valley of death.” What’s worse: when the state does intervene, its methods are often coercive rather than restorative — issuing ultimatums to entire communities under threat of “all necessary force.” This is not security. It’s collective punishment masquerading as policy, and it only deepens fear and fuels defiance. The government’s inability to distinguish bandits from residents or treat citizens as partners in peace risks entrenching a cycle of violence. This is not a crisis of capacity. It’s a crisis of credibility.

The response to civic dissent has been equally chilling. The arrest and weekend detention of Rose Njeri — a software developer who created a digital tool for citizens to email objections to the Finance Bill — was a stark reminder that Kenya’s democratic space is narrowing fast. Her crime? Enabling public participation. This is not just an affront to digital freedoms — it’s a direct violation of Article 33 (freedom of expression) and Article 35 (access to information) of Kenya’s Constitution. Even more damning is the pattern. Detaining citizens over weekends to avoid court oversight has become an authoritarian reflex. This violates the legal standard upheld in Coalition for Reform and Democracy (CORD) & 2 others v Republic of Kenya & another [2015] eKLR, where the court held that prolonged detentions without charge constitute unconstitutional abuse of state power. Yet the tactic continues — often against youth activists, journalists, and tech-savvy organizers. These are not enemies of the state. They are its conscience. If the state treats code like a crime and civic tech as terrorism, it signals a descent into digital authoritarianism — one that no PR campaign or presidential handshake can disguise.

What Kenya needs now is more than investigations and operations. It needs political courage — and jurisprudential discipline. The government must fully implement existing rulings and international obligations. The IPOA’s mandate must be respected, and police accountability pursued with vigor, not rhetoric. Parliament must hold the executive to account when it violates rights under the guise of national security. The courts have laid the foundation. In Independent Policing Oversight Authority v Attorney General & 4 others [2020] eKLR, the High Court affirmed IPOA’s role as the sole lawful investigator of police misconduct. The Executive must respect that boundary. Meanwhile, civil society must continue challenging digital repression and pushing for laws that protect activists, not silence them. Kenya’s youth are not the threat — they are the firewall against authoritarian drift. From Kerio to Kibera, from code to constitution, Kenya’s real security will only be built when the state values trust more than force, and justice more than optics.

References:

Kenya News Agency County Commissioner Leads Madaraka Day with Tough Message on Illegal Brews

The Star Key suspect in murder of Catholic priest Allois Bett arrested

BBC Outrage in Kenya over detention of software developer

The Star Gachagua calls for immediate release of activist Rose Njeri

The Eastleigh Voice Kenya’s security at risk as regional instability grows, warns NIS boss

BBC Pressure mounts to probe Kenya police and army after BBC exposé

Kenya News Agency State declare a nationwide crackdown on organized criminal gangs