Protests Erupt in Kenya: A Call for Accountability

On June 17, 2025, a striking scene unfolded in Nairobi as a protester, amidst the chaos of a demonstration against the tragic death of blogger Albert Ojwang, paused to capture a selfie in front of a burning motorcycle. It was a moment that encapsulated the tension and turmoil of a nation grappling with intense outrage and sorrow. This incident was not merely about a protest; it signified a profound cry for justice in the face of systemic violence.

In the latest sequence of protests ignited by Ojwang’s death in police custody, police fired at a seemingly innocent bystander, further intensifying the public’s anger. Reports indicate that an officer, shrouded in anonymity with a mask, shot an unarmed man at close range, a startling act that left him severely injured. Witnesses recounted how this individual, identified as a vendor, found himself unintentionally entangled in the skirmish on a busy Nairobi sidewalk. The gravity of the situation was underscored by the fact that the man was now fighting for his life in Kenya’s largest referral hospital, grappling with gunshot wounds and the uncertainty of his fate.

As disconcerting as these events are, the police issued a statement acknowledging the incident, expressing sadness and announcing the arrest of the offending officer. Yet, such steps are often viewed with skepticism by a public wearied by history; how many times have promises of accountability been voiced without real action? In a situation that seemed to spiral out of control, at least ten other individuals were injured as a horde of men on motorbikes, displaying an intimidating presence with whips and clubs, descended upon the protesters, chanting “No protest!” This alarming scene, captured in footage shared by the local broadcaster NTV, echoed a deeply disturbing narrative of law enforcement response to civil dissent.

The echoing commitments from human rights organizations have steadily grown louder. Amnesty International’s Kenya chapter condemned the violent actions of the motorcycle gang, warning on X that the “use of militia will escalate confrontation, lawlessness, and chaos.” Indeed, it is easy to feel overwhelmed by despair, yet American civil rights leader Audre Lorde once said, “Your silence won’t protect you.” Are these protests a manifestation of that very refusal to stay silent in the face of injustice?

The roots of these protests run deep, stemming from the harrowing circumstances surrounding Albert Ojwang’s death. The 31-year-old teacher and blogger was arrested in Homa Bay, having expressed criticism of Eliud Lagat, the deputy police chief. His untimely demise mere days later is alarming; autopsy results contradicted police claims that Ojwang had injured himself, indicating that his wounds were likely from external violence. As his voice faded, the collective call for accountability grew louder.

President William Ruto, acknowledging the gravity of the situation, described Ojwang’s death as “heartbreaking and unacceptable.” He vowed to shield citizens from errant police officers—a promise that sounds reassuring but pushes the question: Can leadership stem the tide of history repeating itself? In the shadows of these words lies the harsh reality that over 20 lives have been lost in police custody in the past four months, according to the Independent Policing Oversight Authority.

The ripples of unrest were felt beyond Nairobi; protests were also observed in Mombasa, Kenya’s second-largest city. Demonstrators held placards demanding a cessation to the violence, their cries resonating through the streets with signs that simply read, “Stop killing us.” The emotions in the air were palpable, a raw mix of fear, anger, and a burgeoning hope that their voices might finally be heard.

One powerful account came from activist Hanifa Adan, who previously emerged as a prominent figure in the Gen Z-led protests last year. She spoke candidly of her experience during the clashes, sharing how she and fellow protesters were surrounded, cornered, and brutally assaulted by thugs on motorbikes while police looked on, a painful reminder of how the system often fails those it is meant to protect. “They cornered us and beat us with whips,” she recalled, drawing attention to the absurdity and horror of the situation.

As events continue to unfold, the call for justice only grows louder. With two senior police officers and a civilian currently arrested in connection with Ojwang’s death, the path ahead may still be fraught with uncertainty. Yet, the spirit of the protesters resonates—pounding like a heartbeat for accountability, change, and a different tomorrow.

What will it take for systemic change to truly take root? As these questions linger, one thing becomes evident: the struggle for justice is far from over, and the people will continue to rise, refusing to settle for silence in the face of oppression.