Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring
NAIROBI, Kenya (AX) — It has been over four grueling years, but the agony of uncertainty persists for the family of 21-year-old Shaffi Noor. His sudden disappearance just after being acquitted of terror-related allegations outside a Garissa courtroom on December 29, 2021, remains a haunting memory. Eyewitnesses recall the ominous presence of masked officers, presumably from Kenya’s Anti-Terror Police Unit (ATPU), who took Noor, leaving no trace behind.
His case is not an isolated occurrence. Instead, it aligns with a disturbing trend of enforced disappearances that have plagued Kenya for years. Since June 2024, the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights (KNCHR) has brought to light 82 such cases, with 29 individuals still unaccounted for. Those targeted often share a narrative of raising their voices against governmental actions or becoming embroiled in state security operations.
“All we yearn for is to know his whereabouts,” expressed Ahmed Noor, an uncle grappling with a void left in the family since that fateful day. “His mother is in a perpetual state of despair, neither eating nor sleeping adequately.” Their quest has led them to mass grave sites, such as River Yala and Shakahola—dismal locations infamous for recovering bodies of those long vanished.
The silence from authorities is a resounding one, causing trepidation among many. Kenya’s Inspector General of Police maintains a staunch denial of any state involvement. Yet, these standpoints crumble under the weight of multiple eyewitness testimonies—each implicating security factions. Observers draw unsettling parallels to Daniel Arap Moi’s era, a time etched in history for silencing opponents through extrajudicial actions.
Noor, a young man with aspirations, had just completed high school and found footing as a taxi driver in Wajir—thanks to his parents’ support. His problems began innocuously; a Somali woman requested Noor to procure a phone and a Safaricom SIM card for her. Obliviously, Noor registered the SIM in his name. The woman, purportedly linked to al-Shabaab, vanished to her home near the Somali border. Only a disconcerting voice responded when Noor attempted contact—a man claiming to be her husband, ominously warning him to sever ties.
Unbeknownst to Noor, these interactions positioned him within the crosshairs of security agencies, culminating in his arrest. Despite being acquitted, fate deemed no immediate respite; masked officers abducted him shortly after the verdict.
This incident sparked nationwide protests, resonating across cities such as Nairobi, Mombasa, Eldoret, Embu, and Kajiado. Kenyans, indignant and relentless, demand justice and transparency for the missing. Demonstrations echo the public’s dismay over the resurgence of politically charged abductions.
Initially dismissing these concerns as “fake news,” President William Ruto, facing immense pressure, had a notable reversal. He admitted to security forces employing excessive force and vowed to rectify the situation. But skepticism prevails among human rights organizations, wary that these abductions serve as a means to stifle dissent.
While a few abductees resurface, their silence is deafening. Fear restrains their voices, and the shadows of intimidation loom large. This silence is exemplified by individuals like Gideon Kibet, who vanished after illustrating political cartoons critical of Ruto, only to retreat from the online world upon his return. Similarly, Billy Mwangi’s severe trauma persists after his abduction—triggered by him sharing an AI-generated image depicting Ruto in a coffin.
“The populace has been starkly reminded to stay silent,” remarked activist Hussein Khalid. “These disappearances operate with methodical precision, facilitated by impunity.”
Yet, hope, that indomitable light, flickers determinedly within Noor’s family. “In the absence of hard evidence, there’s a belief that Noor is alive,” expressed Mama Jamila, a resolute relative. Their optimism draws strength from hope-inspiring occurrences, such as a Wajir MCA resurfacing after four arduous months in captivity.
Time, however, is an unforgiving entity. As the clock ticks, Kenya’s security chiefs face intensifying scrutiny, compounded by judicial warnings of contempt penalties looming should they abstain from impending court proceedings.
With global attention poised for the upcoming United Nations World Congress on Enforced Disappearances on January 15, 2025, Kenya stands under the microscope of international accountability. Activists implore the International Criminal Court (ICC) to intervene if governmental inaction persists.
For Noor’s family, this transcendental struggle is not overshadowed by political mechanisms—it reflects a profound yearning to bring their son back. “We petition President Ruto to use his authority,” appealed Jamila, with unyielding resolve. “All we desire is for our beloved boy to return home.”
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International–Monitoring
