Kenyan Parliament Unrest: Revealing the Officers Behind Shots Fired at Anti-Tax Protesters
The tragic events surrounding the anti-tax protests outside Kenya’s parliament last June have been meticulously pieced together, revealing a poignant narrative that has captured national and international attention. As reported by the BBC, a thorough analysis of over 5,000 images has confirmed that those who lost their lives during this turmoil were unarmed individuals, tragically caught in the crossfire.
- Advertisement -
The East African nation’s constitution upholds the right to peaceful protest. Yet, the brutal deaths of protesters at the hands of security forces ignited a public outcry, as citizens across Kenya grappled with the implications of such violence. Despite an order from a parliamentary committee directing Kenya’s Independent Policing Oversight Authority (IPOA) to investigate and disclose findings related to these fatalities, no report has surfaced, and accountability remains elusive. The haunting question lingers: Why have those responsible been allowed to evade justice?
On that fateful day, the BBC World Service team delved deep into video and photographic evidence from protesters and journalists. By meticulously analyzing camera metadata, stream timings, and time-stamped visuals, they crafted a gripping timeline of events that unfolded as members of parliament entered for a contentious vote on a divisive finance bill.
It was June 25, 2024, and the atmosphere in Nairobi was electric. Young people—often referred to as Gen Z protesters—converged on the city, buoyed by social media calls to action. Describing the scene, prominent human rights activist Boniface Mwangi remarked, “It was a beautiful party. Kids came out with Bluetooth speakers and their water. It was a carnival.” This gathering, the third large-scale protest since the introduction of the controversial finance bill, signified a public rebuke against proposals that would impose heavy burdens on daily necessities.
Earlier protests had forced lawmakers to reconsider tax increases on essential items like bread and cooking oil. However, critical measures aimed at raising $2.7 billion remained in the bill, igniting further dissent. “For the first time, it was the Kenyan people—the working class and the middle class—standing against the ruling class,” Mwangi asserted. The faces of the protesters reflected determination, with one singular target: the parliamentary vote inside.
By 9:30 AM, the last of the MPs filed into the lower house as thousands of demonstrators gathered outside. Among them was 26-year-old student journalist Ademba Allans, who noted, “For me, it was just a normal day.” As people livestreamed the unfolding events, the government response quickly escalated, with police deploying tear gas and water cannons to break their ranks.
Despite the chaotic conditions, MPs inside the chamber proceeded with the vote. By 2:14 PM, the Finance Bill 2024 passed, with 195 votes in favor and 106 against. The swiftly emerging tension found its way outside as word reached the protesters. “This is when everybody started saying, ‘Whatever happens, we are going to enter parliament and show the MPs we are fighting for something meaningful,’” Allans recalled.
Shortly thereafter, demonstrators broke through police barricades and stormed parliament grounds, igniting fierce confrontations. Caught in the chaos, a plain-clothes officer was seen shouting “uaa!”—the Swahili term for “kill.” Moments later, shots rang out, and the crowd fell silent as seven individuals collapsed. Among them were David Chege, a software engineer, and Ericsson Mutisya, a butcher, who tragically lost their lives that day.
In the aftermath of the gunfire, video footage captured the distressing scene: Allans, holding a Kenyan flag, rushed to assist the wounded. “I feared for my life,” he confessed, reflecting on the harrowing choice between self-preservation and the desire to save others. “But I also feared to let other people die when I could help.”
Despite the shocking nature of these events, the protestors regrouped and mounted another attempt to breach the parliamentary grounds. By 2:57 PM, they had succeeded, crossing into the precincts with their hands raised, many documenting their defiant march with smartphones.
As chaos erupted within the building, the situation escalated disastrously. Gunfire rang out once more, and in the confusion, 27-year-old finance student Eric Shieni was shot in the back of the head—yet another tragic casualty of this violent response. His unarmed status mirrored that of Chege and Mutisya.
Reflecting on the heartbreaking loss, Faith Odhiambo, president of the Law Society of Kenya, stated, “The video is very clear. The aim was to kill those protesters. They could have apprehended him.” Her words serve as a stark reminder of the deep injustices faced by those who seek to exercise their democratic rights.
The Kenyan Defence Forces (KDF) have yet to address the accusations leveled at them concerning their role in the operations that day, further fueling public outrage. It’s a scenario that leaves many pondering: What will it take for justice to be served? Why has no one been held accountable for these tragic losses?
As dusk fell on June 25, the country grappled with the fallout. The Kenya National Commission on Human Rights reported that 39 lives were lost, with over 361 individuals injured nationwide. Although President William Ruto later announced the withdrawal of the finance bill, the shadow of those lost lives lingered heavily in the national consciousness.
This tragic episode serves as a lens through which we can examine the layered complexities of governance, accountability, and the right to protest. As Kenyans continue to seek justice for those lost, one fact remains glaringly clear: accountability must prevail if healing and progress are to follow.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring