KATIBA 16: The document that gave Gen Z a voice to demand accountability

Youth during the past Gen Z protests in Nairobi. [File, Standard]

In August 2010, a 10-year-old Kenyan sat before a television, watching adults celebrate a document he could barely understand. At Uhuru Park, President Mwai Kibaki lifted the new Constitution as thousands cheered.

A 21-gun salute rang out as Kenya appeared to turn a new page. For the child watching at home, it was simply another major national event. He did not know Article 33, he had never heard of Article 37. He could not explain what a Bill of Rights was or why the adults around him were so invested in the document. The child was a Gen-Z.

Sixteen years later, that child has grown into the generation using those same constitutional provisions to question the Government. The document he watched being celebrated has become the language through which young Kenyans speak, organise, protest and demand accountability.

But Kenya had travelled a long road before that moment. In March 1975, university students took to the streets following the assassination of J M Kariuki, demanding answers from the Government. The State responded with arrests, suppression and the closure of the university. Fifteen years later, young Kenyans were again at the centre of the Saba Saba protests demanding multiparty democracy. The crackdown left people dead, injured and detained. Those generations were fighting for freedoms that had not yet been securely protected.

Then came 2010. Kibaki called the promulgation “the most important day in the history of our nation since independence.” Raila Odinga spoke of a new beginning: “We have opened a clean new page. On that page we begin writing the story of an equal and just society.”

For the children watching, those words sounded grand. They would only understand their meaning years later.

Generation Z grew up with the Constitution as part of the school curriculum and political vocabulary. They memorised its articles for examinations, heard politicians invoke it and watched lawyers debate its meaning. For years, it was simply a document.

Tony Wabomba, a 2024 Gen Z protest participant and former IT student, remembers that distance clearly. “Growing up, it was purely a school subject. In Primary Social Studies, we memorised the Bill of Rights and the three arms of government just to pass exams,” he says. “It felt like abstract legal theory that belonged to politicians in suits, not something that governed my day-to-day life.”

Then the protests came and suddenly, these were no longer textbook provisions. They were personal; Article 37 says every person has the right, peacefully and unarmed, to assemble, demonstrate, picket and present petitions to public authorities. Article 33 protects freedom of expression, while Article 35 gives citizens a right to access information held by the State.

During the 2024 anti-Finance Bill protests, young Kenyans discovered the political power of their generation. They did not wait for political parties to organise them. They used X, TikTok, Facebook and WhatsApp to explain the Bill, challenge Government decisions and mobilize one another.

Wabomba says that was the moment the Constitution changed in his eyes.

“It became real during national debates and proposed bills when young people started breaking down specific clauses on social media,” he says. “Realizing how things like taxation, public participation, and state accountability directly impact my cost of living and future made me see the Constitution as an active shield rather than just an old book.”

The old political formula had been politician, party, rally, supporters. Generation Z turned it into issue, social media, citizens, street. The phone became the microphone and the Constitution became the reference.

For Wabomba, technology accelerated that transformation. “Social media translated heavy legalese into short infographics, X threads, and TikTok breakdowns,” he says. “You no longer need a law degree to understand your rights; someone will break down Article 37 or Article 201 in 60 seconds, making civic literacy accessible to everyone instantly.”

Gen Z online mobiliser commonly known as Teacher Sheyii sees this constitutional awakening as part of a wider generational shift.

He argues that the Constitution offers “progressive and more room for expansive potential in the rule of law.”

For Sheyii, Article 37 has become particularly significant because it gives citizens a constitutional framework through which they can demand accountability.

“The Constitution is clear on picketing and the frameworks of protecting those who are picketing,” he says.

But the Constitution's promise soon met the reality of power. The Kenya National Commission on Human Rights documented 39 deaths, 361 injuries, 627 arrests and 32 cases of enforced or involuntary disappearance during the first phase of the 2024 protests.

Behind those numbers were families waiting for loved ones to return home. A mother waiting for a son. A friend calling a phone that would not be answered. A family searching police stations and hospitals for someone who had simply gone out to protest. That is where the constitutional story becomes human.

What does Article 37 mean to a young Kenyan who knows they have a right to protest but fears what may happen when they exercise it? What does freedom of expression mean when a young person hesitates before pressing “post”? The questions have not disappeared.

Political risk analyst Dismas Mokua argues that the rights contained in Articles 33, 35 and 37 were at the heart of the struggle that produced the 2010 Constitution.

“The 2010 Constitution guarantees citizens and anybody rights as captured by Articles 33, 35 and 37 that are cast in iron and cannot be compromised nor challenged,” Mokua says. “These rights are essentially the raison d'être of the struggles for the 2010 Constitution.”

He says Gen Z is uniquely positioned to exercise those rights because it has grown up knowing no other constitutional order.

“Gen Z are generally literate and have agency around interpreting the Constitution,” Mokua says. “No personality nor authority can question nor limit their rights.”

That confidence has also altered the relationship between citizens and government. According to Mokua, Gen Z has helped redefine public participation, which he says was previously treated largely as a ceremonial process.

“Gen Z reminded authorities in a polite but firm manner that public participation cannot be ceremonial and public participation must be citizen centric and reflect national and public interests,” he says.

The June 25, 2026 protests, held as young Kenyans returned to the streets to mark two years since the 2024 demonstrations, showed that the constitutional conversation had not ended. The KNCHR again reported arrests and alleged human-rights violations. It raised concern over the whereabouts of Macmillan Kiarie, Michael Oloo and Abdilaziz Duba, whose families and rights groups were seeking answers. For those families, this is not a constitutional debate. It is a question: Where is my child?

Yet the Constitution itself remains one of the greatest changes Kenya has made. Previous generations fought for political space. Generation Z grew up believing that space already belonged to them. A young Kenyan in 1975 could protest because he believed something was wrong. A young Kenyan today can protest and point to Article 37. That is the difference.

But rights come with responsibilities. Article 37 protects peaceful and unarmed demonstrations, and protesters must respect the rights and property of others. The same Constitution also places obligations on the State. The police have weapons, prisons and the power to arrest; the ordinary citizen has a placard, a phone and a voice. That imbalance is precisely why constitutional protections matter.

Mokua cautions that Gen Z must also understand the limits attached to its freedoms.

“Gen Z must therefore exercise their rights in a manner consistent with the Constitution,” he says. “In exercising their rights, Gen Z must do so in a manner that does not occasion deaths and destruction of property. They must exercise their rights without stepping on the rights of other Kenyans.”

He also warns that freedom of expression does not remove the consequences of what people publish, particularly online. Some young people, he says, have pushed artistic expression to extremes while others have engaged in misinformation and disinformation.

“Gen Z must be alive to the fact that Article 37 must be exercised in a manner that is consistent with the Constitution,” Mokua says. “Article 37 contemplates peaceful and unarmed protests and demonstrations.”

The digital age has therefore given Gen Z an unprecedented voice, but also an unprecedented record of what it says and does.

Wabomba acknowledges that the generation is still learning how to turn its constitutional awareness into lasting institutional change.

“We’ve found our voice, but we’re definitely still learning how to use it strategically,” he says. “We know how to invoke our rights and raise awareness, but translating that constitutional energy into long-term policy changes and institutional reforms is a skill we are still actively developing.”

That challenge may become even more important as Kenya approaches the 2027 General Election.

Mokua says Gen Z must now move beyond protest and civic pressure and become part of the political process itself. He argues that the generation should “immunize themselves from the vagaries of tribalism and embrace meritocracy” ahead of the election.

He also challenges young Kenyans to offer themselves for political office or support candidates who demonstrate character, capacity and competence.

Sheyii, meanwhile, believes the failure of institutions has pushed citizens closer to Article 37 as a final constitutional safeguard.

“Parliament was to be our last line of defence but as it stands, many institutions including some members of the bicameral house have been compromised,” he says. “Article 37 now brings about the very real last line of defence... The people, the power and the glory... Forever and ever, the power will always be supreme and that power is with the people.”

The Constitution was not designed to make Government comfortable. It was designed to make power accountable. That may be the greatest political inheritance of Generation Z.

They did not write the Constitution. They were children when it was born. They watched their parents celebrate it and learnt its articles in school. Then we grew up and discovered that those words belonged to them.

The 13-year-old who watched Kibaki lift the Constitution at Uhuru Park could not have understood what he was watching but today, he does.

He is no longer sitting in the living room. He is asking questions. He is demanding answers. He has found his voice in the Constitution.