In the unfolding tragedy of Albert Ojwang’s brutal killing, the Directorate of Criminal Investigations (DCI) stands squarely in the eye of the storm. This is not speculation. It is not politics. It is not conjecture. It is fact: Albert Ojwang was in the hands of DCI officers for over 20 hours before his lifeless body surfaced. Those final hours of his life are not a mystery to the DCI, they are in fact the very custodians of those fatal hours.
And yet, in an astonishing display of arrogance, DCI Director Mohamed Amin has rushed to publicly shift blame, pointing the finger at OCS Samson Talaam while insisting that the investigation is “ongoing”. How does the head of a compromised agency get to pre-emptively decide who takes the fall while his own house remains under scrutiny? How does a man presiding over an agency so deeply entangled in the case arrogate to himself the role of prosecutor, judge, and jury, before the truth has even been allowed to breathe?
When a state agency quickly singles out a fall guy while shielding its leadership from scrutiny, it signals one thing: there is a bigger fish being protected. This rush to assign blame even before the investigation concludes exposes an attempt to manage public outrage, control the narrative, and insulate powerful interests from accountability. The question we must all ask is simple but profound: Who is being protected, and why?
The story they want us to believe defies logic. According to DCI Amin, while Ojwang was technically in the custody of his officers for nearly an entire day, somehow the responsibility for his death lies with the OCS at the police station. Are we to believe that the DCI, which prides itself on being the apex investigative body in Kenya, lost track of its own detainee? That its own officers, under its own roof, had no role or responsibility in ensuring Ojwang’s safety? The Kenyan public is not so gullible. This is not just a cover-up; it is an insult to our collective intelligence.
Director Amin must understand that the public anger he now faces is not because people have rushed to judgement, but because people have seen, again and again, how such investigations are manipulated. We have seen suspects mysteriously disappear. We have seen witnesses silenced. We have seen investigations stall, only to be quietly buried once public attention fades. But this time, the nation is watching closely.
The parallels with past state-sponsored killings and cover-ups are chilling. We remember how other security officers and whistleblowers who once stood on the wrong side of power were silenced. We remember how accountability was sacrificed to protect the powerful. We remember how death became a convenient tool for erasing inconvenient witnesses. Talaam, if you have been made the fall guy, now is your moment to speak. Your silence will not save you. You are disposable to those who are orchestrating this cover-up. Speak while you still can — before you meet the fate that has befallen others like Ojwang.
Director Amin’s behaviour raises serious questions about his own complicity. Why the rush to exonerate his agency? Why shield his officers from scrutiny? Why issue statements that seek to prejudge the investigation before all facts are gathered? Only two conclusions can be drawn: either Amin is directly involved, or he is desperately trying to protect those who are.
The DCI cannot investigate itself in this matter. The rot runs too deep. An independent, transparent, and credible inquiry must be launched, involving actors who are not beholden to the same machinery responsible for Ojwang’s death. Parliament must summon Amin to publicly account for his agency’s actions. Civil society must press for full disclosure. The international community must demand accountability, as failure to act now risks emboldening those within Kenya’s security apparatus who believe they are untouchable.
Let us be clear: this is bigger than one murder. This is about a dangerous culture of impunity within Kenya’s security institutions. It is about a state that has allowed its security agencies to operate as private armies for political elites, detaining, torturing, disappearing, and murdering citizens at will. It is about an erosion of the rule of law so advanced that the very agencies tasked with upholding justice have now become perpetrators of organised state violence.
Kenya is quickly approaching a point of no return. If citizens cannot trust that their own police will protect them, if instead, police cells become chambers of torture and death, then the very foundation of the state begins to crack. When security agencies become executioners rather than protectors, they leave citizens with no recourse but resistance.
This is why the Ojwang case matters so deeply. It is not only about justice for one man; it is about reclaiming the integrity of the state itself. If DCI Amin and his officers are allowed to orchestrate this cover-up, they will have succeeded not just in extinguishing a life, but in undermining every principle upon which this nation is built.
The people must not let that happen. We must demand the resignation of DCI Amin. We must demand full prosecution of all those involved — from the officers who laid hands on Ojwang to the officials who orchestrated the cover-up. We must demand transparency and protection for all potential witnesses. And above all, we must refuse to allow this regime of impunity to claim yet another innocent life under the cover of darkness. The truth will not be buried. Not this time. The country is watching. The world is watching. And justice must prevail.
