 |
| Kenya Is Bleeding in Silence: A Wake-Up Call on Political Assassinations, Security, and Hypocrisy |
| BY JOHN MSAFIRI
Yesterday, another son of the soil, Hon. Kasipul MP Charles Ong’ondo Were, was gunned down in cold blood along Ngong Road by a motorbike pillion assassin. Just like that. Another leader silenced. Another headline. Another hashtag. Another round of tired political clichés.
"We shall investigate." "We will bring the culprits to book." "No stone will be left unturned."
Yaani, it's the same tired script — recycled, washed, and hanged to dry in the corridors of impunity. Since independence, our soil has drunk enough blood to fill rivers. And every time, we throw flowers on the graves while watering the roots of injustice.
They came for Pinto, and we lit a candle.
They came for Mboya, and we sang the anthem.
They came for JM, and we marched.
They came for Ouko, and we wept.
They came for Mugabe Were, and we tweeted.
They came for George Muchai and we stalled the cameras
They came for Charles Were and were intentional and sarcastic close to a morgue: City Morgue.
How long will Kenya bury its conscience with its sons?
Let this be the last eulogy we write in blood.
This is not a coincidence. This is systemic rot. A pattern. Political assassination in Kenya is not just a tragedy; it’s a language of power. It is the whispered threat behind podiums, the smirk behind political insults, the unsaid warning behind every "watch your back."
Security Instruments: Are You Asleep or Compromised?
Where was the intelligence? Where was the surveillance? How can a sitting MP be shot on a public road — in Nairobi of all places — and the assassins vanish into the thin air of state silence?
Our security instruments, from NIS to DCI, from police patrol to cyber units — must stop being paper tigers. This is not just about protecting VIPs. This is about protecting the idea of Kenya.
We can't keep building walls around politicians while wananchi in places like Angata, Narok are butchered by police bullets, left to rot without a whisper of justice. When a local child is shot in a protest, the headlines read “clashes.” When a politician is shot, it’s “a national crisis.”
Double standards are killing us. Politicians: Watch Your Mouths Before You Ignite the Nation. Some of you think politics is theatre. You go on rallies spewing tribal bile, threat-laced innuendo, and coded war cries. You call others “dogs,” “traitors,” “madoadoa,” “cockroaches.” You incite in tongues but pretend to be angels in English.
Well, words become flesh — and sometimes that flesh lies in a casket. When you normalize violence in your speech, don’t act shocked when it walks into your backyard with a gun. Stop weaponizing your base. Stop flirting with chaos.
Gangs, Goons & the Road to Sierra Leone Rember? Let’s not pretend. Some politicians hire goons to intimidate rivals, silence critics, and rig the streets before the ballots arrive. You call them “supporters.” But when they loot, burn, stab, and rape — we call them what they really are: terrorists in civilian clothing.
If we’re not careful, we’re heading the way of Sierra Leone during the junta years. Rebels there used to cut off civilians' hands or lips — “short sleeve or long sleeve?” — to punish dissent. That’s what happens when violence becomes a political strategy. You breed monsters who no longer recognize the leash.
Kenya, we are at the edge. Condolences Politics: A Nation of Mourning Selectively. The amount of airtime, prayers, and flower arrangements given to politicians when they die is baffling. Whole stadiums are filled. State funerals. Gun salutes. Presidents weep on live TV.
But when a boda guy is gunned down by rogue cops in Mwiki, or a schoolgirl is raped and murdered in Lodwar, or a whole family is massacred by bandits in Baringo — it’s silence. Or worse: blame.
Why must status determine sympathy?
Wake Up, Kenya
We need a reset. A hard reboot of our political culture, our national security priorities, and our moral compass.
We need independent investigations into all assassinations — not just PR pressers.
We need equal mourning, whether it’s a street hawker or a senator.
We need leaders who speak life, not tongues of fire that burn their own people.
And we need a citizenry that refuses to be used as shields, pawns, or propaganda.
This is not just about Hon. Were. It’s about all of us. It’s about whether your life matters. Whether justice is reserved for the rich. Whether your child is safe walking home after school.
Don’t wait for your turn on the obituary page to ask, “What is the state doing?”
Kenya is bleeding. But are we awake, or just sleepwalking into the slaughterhouse?
From the whispers of Pinto to the echo of Mboya’s bullet, from JM Kariuki’s tortured silence to Mugabe Were’s fatal doorstep, and now Hon. Were — ambushed on a tarmac of betrayal in 2025 — the blood trail of Kenya’s politics reads like a cursed psalm.
Each man fell not by fate, but by fear.
Each death, a stanza in the poem of power.
Each gunshot, a punctuation mark in our national shame.
Where is the justice for men who dared to dream?
Where is the peace for families still haunted by hollow investigations and forgotten files?
Kenya bleeds in silence — but the ghosts do not forget.
And justice, however delayed, always returns in whispered winds and cracked crowns.
JOHN MSAFIRI
Media Relations Concierge | Strategic PR & Communications Specialist | Seasoned Writer | Thespian | Playwright | Copyrighter | Domestic Scandal Evangelist
#JusticeForWere
#NoMoreAssassinations
#WakeUpKenya
Comments
Post a Comment