Kindiki was right to condemn violence, prosecute the culprits

Deputy President Kithure Kindiki when he hosted a section of Maasai leaders from Kajiado County. [Peterson Githaiga, Standard]

Deputy President Kithure Kindiki deserves credit for condemning violence in places of worship and affirming that such acts, whether by political opponents, staged for sympathy, or for any purpose whatsoever, are criminal, anti-democratic, and a violation of the freedoms of assembly and worship.

His call for impartial, non-politicised investigations into the planners, executors, and enablers of such violence is constitutionally sound and morally necessary. In an environment where equivocation replaces clarity, Prof Kindiki was direct: violence is crime, not activism, mobilisation, or strategy, and it cannot be justified, sanitised, or excused by political affiliation. Clarity, however, is only a beginning.

The harder test, the one that defines statesmanship, is whether words are followed by action. Kenya’s history is littered with condemnations of violence that were never matched by investigations, prosecutions, or consequences, producing a culture of impunity. This moment offers a chance to break that cycle.

The violence was captured on camera; the goons are identifiable; the police officers involved are visible; witnesses exist. This is not a case where the state can claim insufficient evidence or investigative complexity. What remains to be tested is political will.

That is why Kindiki’s statement must now move from moral clarity to institutional courage. Kenya is not short of laws; it is short of enforcement.

It is not short of constitutional provisions; it is short of obedience to them. Article 32 protects freedom of conscience, religion, belief, and worship. Article 37 guarantees the right to assemble, demonstrate, picket, and petition peacefully.

Article 238 defines national security as the protection of people, not the intimidation of them. Violence in a church, a mosque, or any sacred space is a constitutional violation. If police participate, enable it, or look away, that is state complicity.

Kindiki has rightly said that only impartial, non-politicised investigations followed by successful prosecutions can prevent violence from replacing democratic contestation based on ideas, principles, and programmes.

Democracies do not collapse first through coups; they collapse through normalisation of violence, intimidation, selective enforcement, and political lawlessness. Once citizens learn that force works better than persuasion, democracy is already in retreat. Kenya must not go down that path. Political competition belongs in ideas, policies, and ballots, not fists, batons, goons, or intimidation.

Kindiki’s words merit applause, but the country requires accountability. The public expects arrests, charges, prosecutions, and convictions where guilt is proven. It expects consequences, not press statements, transfers, disciplinary whispers, or quiet suspensions. Justice that is delayed, diluted, or diverted is not justice; it is complicity dressed in procedure.

Kenya has suffered too long from selective law enforcement: violence by government critics is swiftly punished; violence by government allies is rationalised, minimised, or forgotten. Nothing breeds cynicism faster than a law that only applies to some people, some of the time. If Prof. Kindiki’s statement is to mean anything, it must shatter this pattern.

The police officers involved must be suspended pending investigation, publicly, transparently, and immediately. The civilian perpetrators must be arrested, charged, and prosecuted. The organisers, not merely the foot soldiers, must be identified and held accountable.

Investigations must be insulated from political interference, not merely promised insulation. This is not vengeance; it is justice, constitutional, and unifying through equal protection under the law.

It is about precedent: if violence in churches can be excused today, violence in markets will be excused tomorrow; if violence against worshippers can be normalised today, violence against voters will be normalised tomorrow; if intimidation works today, democracy dies tomorrow. That is the stake.

Leaving attacks on politicians (and Kenyans in general) uninvestigated, unprosecuted, and unpunished is playing with fire. It normalises political violence, erodes the state’s legitimacy, and quietly raises the stakes for retaliation as we head toward 2027.