Are these four men the worst of security bosses?
National
By
Special Correspondent
| May 27, 2025
One recent evening in Westlands, as the city's nightlife hummed to life, a teenage girl sat quietly in a taxi, her phone lit in her palm. In an instant, a hand reached through the open window and snatched it. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She just froze.
Her mother, Ciru wa Kamau, didn't even bother going to the police. Instead, she turned to Facebook. "That's not the news, dear ones," she wrote. "The real story is - she's not even going to the police. Nothing will come of it."
For many Kenyans, that's the deeper tragedy. Not the theft, but the resignation, and giving up on the security agencies.
"What good is a piece of paper that can't even track a stolen phone?" Ciru said later, referring to the OB (occurrence book) form.
READ MORE
New bid to double Kenya-UK trade to Sh680b
Why blended finance is gaining traction in Kenya's search for sustainable funding
'We are coming for you,' Why KRA has suspended nil tax filings
EAC launches first regional framework to strengthen pandemic preparedness
Which Singapore? Controller of Budget downplays Ruto's dream
IMF to Kenya: Anti-corruption reforms key to new funding deal
New CBK loan pricing model sparks lower lending costs
NCBA to ride on Nedbank's muscle in regional expansion
Kenya, India seek strategic reset in trade, security and technology
Factories review the green leaf payment following farmers demand
In response, Catherine Riungu, a seasoned journalist, recounted how her friend's life was shattered after his lost ID was found at a crime scene. "He spent two years in Kamiti as a robbery suspect," she said. "He was just another victim."
Across the country, a new fear is spreading. It's not fear of gangs or petty crime. It is fear for the very institutions meant to protect the public - accused of harassment, abductions, even murder.
At the centre of the storm are four men: Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen, National Intelligence Service Director-General Noordin Haji, Inspector General of Police Douglas Kanja, and Directorate of Criminal Investigations boss Mohamed Amin.
Together, they control the levers of national security. Increasingly, they are accused of failing to protect Kenyans - or worse; enabling abuse.
In some circles, they are being called the worst security bosses in Kenya's post-independence history.
Kenya's internal security has seen stronger leadership in the past.
In 2014, retired Major-General Joseph Nkaissery was appointed Interior Minister. He was decisive, feared, and - critically - respected. He responded to crises with military precision.
By contrast, today's CS for Interior, Kipchumba Murkomen, appears to operate from a different playbook. A political insider and vocal ally of President William Ruto, Murkomen commands one of the most powerful portfolios in government. Yet in moments of national crisis - such as the deteriorating security - he often speaks not of safety but of UDA party.
As tear gas and bullets fill the air and protesters bleed on the streets, and villages, the CS would be busy flaunting designer labels and tweeting about his high-end wardrobe.
In a country disturbed by want and on edge, his tone-deaf display of luxury has earned him a mocking badge of dishonour -Gucci CS.
In April, the National Crime Research Centre issued a sobering report: 309 criminal gangs were active across 11 counties.
Groups like Gaza, 42 Brothers, Wakali Wao, and Mungiki aren't just criminal outfits anymore. They are embedded in the social fabric - running extortion rings, offering protection, and sometimes even acting as informal courts. The report blamed poverty, neglect, and police collusion.
After the July 2024 protests erupted, Rigathi Gachagua, then Deputy President, publicly lashed out at National Intelligence Service Director-General Noordin Haji.
"The intelligence community is broken," he said.
Haji defended his agency, blaming chronic underfunding. "We are being asked to do more with less," he told Parliament.
Between June and October 2024, more than 80 people were abducted, most snatched in daylight by masked men in unmarked vehicles. Some were taken from homes, others from hotels or barbershops.
The victims? Mostly students, activists, bloggers and journalists.
Some later surfaced with accounts of beatings, psychological torture, and days spent in dark rooms. But 29 are still missing, according to the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights.
Inspector General Douglas Kanja - appointed after the exit of Japhet Koome - has said little. What he has said is often deflective. "The National Police Service is not involved in any abduction," he claimed. "There is no police station holding the reported abductees."
DCI boss Mohamed Amin sees things differently. In January, he told reporters: "Granted, we have few rag-tag criminals but not to the extent that we label our country as a gangsters' paradise!"
Human rights groups accuse Amin's office of wiretapping journalists, harassing civil society, and misusing vague cybercrime laws to justify arrests.
"Despite the high number of enforced disappearances," said the Kenya Human Rights Commission, "not a single officer has been prosecuted."