In the hustle and bustle of Nairobi, a city that vibrates with energy, a dark shadow has been cast. On a seemingly ordinary Wednesday evening, tragedy struck—a chilling narrative etched into the city’s history. Hon. Charles Ong’ondo Were, a dedicated Member of Parliament, was ruthlessly gunned down in what authorities are labeling as a “targeted and premeditated” assault. But what lies beneath the surface of this heinous act?

The incident unfolded around 7:30 p.m., along the bustling Ngong Road near the City Mortuary roundabout. As were the circumstances of fate, his white Toyota Crown came to a halt at a red light. Here, two unknown individuals on a motorcycle approached. As if a scene from a suspense thriller, one suspect nonchalantly alighted, only to shatter the night with deafening gunfire into the passenger side. In the silence that followed, they vanished into the city’s labyrinth, leaving behind anguish and unanswered questions.

Were’s driver, along with a male passenger, both incredibly unscathed, rushed him to Nairobi Hospital. Yet, despite their desperate speed and hope, fate had decided otherwise. Hon. Ong’ondo Were was declared dead upon arrival. The nation gasped, but perhaps no one felt the loss more acutely than his family and friends.

A statement from police spokesperson Muchiri Nyaga condemned the act as a “heinous and senseless crime.” His words reverberated with a solemn gravity: “The nature of this crime appears to be both targeted and predetermined.” Did it hint at deeper, darker machinations?

Senior detectives swiftly descended upon the scene, initiating the meticulous process of gathering clues. The streets buzz with whispers and theories, yet the perpetrators remain elusive, like shadows at dusk. The National Police Service seeks the public’s aid, urging anyone with information to use their toll-free hotlines. In times of darkness, should not the light of communal cooperation lead us towards justice?

Hon. Were, a stalwart of the Orange Democratic Movement (ODM) under the Azimio coalition, first captured the trust of his electorate in 2017 and reaffirmed it in 2022. His contributions to the Departmental Committee on Blue Economy and Irrigation were more than just roles—they were testaments to his commitment and vision for Kenya’s prosperity.

Yet, as reports suggest, Hon. Were harbored fears. Fears that recent threats against his life were drawing closer. Saboti MP Caleb Amisi, in the rawness of grief, shared on social media a haunting exchange from earlier that day: “He told me, ‘I need a conversation with you.’ Five hours later, he is no more.” How do we reckon with such unsettling prescience?

In the wake of the tragedy, prominent figures including Interior Principal Secretary Raymond Omollo, DCI boss Mohamed Amin, and Nairobi police commander George Seda, assembled at Nairobi Hospital. Their presence underscored the gravity of the situation—a poignant reminder of the fragile sanctity of life and the vulnerabilities of public service.

Hon. Were’s academic laurels—a Bachelor’s and a Diploma in Business Management from Mt Kenya University and a Certificate in Computerized Accounting from Meru University—were more than just accolades; they were the foundation of a promising career that transitioned from private leadership to public service.

This devastating loss, this alarming breach of security, resonates across Kenya. It provokes a vital question: What steps must be taken to safeguard those who stand in service of the nation? As election seasons approach, the echoes of political stability, or the lack thereof, whisper in the corridors of governance.