FILE – Aslam Longton (bottom right) and Jamil Longton (bottom left) are seen at the Kenya National Human Rights Commission in Nairobi, Feb. 2, 2025. (Credit: Kenya National Human Rights Commission)
The specter of forced disappearances looms ominously over Kenya, a nation that has recently been rocked by political unrest and social discord. Since the summer of 2024, when sweeping protests engulfed the country, a staggering 82 instances of alleged abductions have been documented by the Kenyan National Human Rights Commission. Yet, where does the truth lie? While some families have experienced the bittersweet joy of reunion, others still endure the heartache of unanswered questions regarding their missing kin. The search for accountability continues, with fingers pointed at the police—yet no definitive answers have emerged.
When approached for comment, the National Police Service offered only silence, leaving a vacuum where explanations should stand. But let us dive into the heart of the matter—the human stories that articulate this crisis more powerfully than figures and statistics.
Aslam Longton and his brother, Jamil, shared their tale with VOA, a narrative that begins like something out of a thriller but is all too real. Imagine feeling an uneasy gaze boring into your back as you go about your day. For Aslam, that feeling became a reality. It was an ordinary August afternoon in their Kitengela Town neighborhood, just an hour from the bustling center of Nairobi, when their world was abruptly upended.
“At the first corner, a Toyota Vitz had all its doors flung open—it blocked our path completely,” Aslam recounted, the memory fresh and vivid in his mind. “Reversing was my only option, but moving forward? Not an option. A Subaru appeared, hemming us in entirely, and a Toyota Axio sealed our fate from behind.” It was a swift, calculated maneuver, painting a chilling tableau for anyone observing.
The brothers were soon confronted by men brandishing heavy arms, individuals who bore the unmistakable bearing of law enforcement, yet did not identify themselves. They demanded the brothers to shun their vehicle’s engine into silence.
Events spiraled precipitously as Aslam found himself extricated from the driver’s seat and unceremoniously shoved into a Subaru. His brother Jamil, a spectator turned participant, protested vehemently, questioning the men’s identity and intentions. “Who are you? Why take my brother?” he implored, as the scenario became more surreal and threatening. His entreaties earned him nothing but derision—and a confiscated phone.
“I wanted to call the Officer Commanding Station at Kitengela, but my chance was snatched away,” Jamil recalled, the frustration palpable in his words. Slapped, silenced, and similarly detained, he too was forced into the vehicle.
Both brothers tell a harrowing tale of being blindfolded, handcuffed, and held in an unknown location for an agonizing 32 days. Theirs is a narrative not singular in experience; Amnesty International and the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights corroborate their account, matching it to the tales of others who have suffered similar fates.
“Deprived of basic needs, kept in restraints, subjected to indignities — such stories repeat in a grim chorus,” admits KNHRC’s Ernest Cornel when speaking to VOA.
These abductions seem linked to Aslam’s involvement in protests. The demonstrations erupted in fury against a proposed taxation bill, growing to challenge broader governmental failings and ultimately demanding the president’s resignation. Political activism, it seems, can come at an excruciating price.
The rights groups accuse the police of responding with disproportionate aggression, alleging that critics of the regime have been systematically silenced. The police, however, counter with their narrative, pointing fingers at supposed criminal elements infiltrating the protests. With over 60 fatalities and hundreds arrested in the chaos, the human toll underscores the urgency for transparency and justice.
When Kenya’s President William Ruto spoke last December, he condemned the alarming rise in disappearances, earnestly stating, “Any criminality must be investigated. Be it by citizens, by criminals, or even by the police itself; the truth must prevail.”
Yet, the shadow of intimidation persists—Aslam, Jamil, and others voice concerns over continued surveillance. “Every morning jog, every light outside their homes feels like a specter in the dark,” Cornel relays their fears, manifestations of a persecution that refuses to yield even post-release.
In a climate where shadows weave uncertainty and assurances dissipate into nothingness, the call for international scrutiny gains newfound urgency. Could such investigations bring clarity, or merely unfold another layer of complexity?
The story, vibrant yet unresolved, demands global attention. For every voice unheard, every story untold, shapes the fabric of a nation’s consciousness and moral compass.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring
