This is my third article on femicide. I am writing it because I am terrified by how quiet we have become, or worse, how loud we have become for all the wrong reasons.
We have reached a point in Kenya where we don't just bury our women, we stone them with words while they are still in their coffins. It feels as though we have become so numb to the sight of a bloodied body in an apartment that our first instinct is no longer to ask how this happened, but to interrogate what the woman did to deserve it.
I spend my days in courtrooms fighting for children as young as five years old who have been defiled. It is a heavy, heartbreaking job, but the hardest part isn't always the evidence itself but the crushing weight of the public's attitude.
Even when the victim is a baby, people find a way to shift the burden, asking where the mother was or why the child was playing in that specific spot. Every time we indulge in this, we are affirming the murderer and the predator. We are sending a clear message that if a killer can just find one small flaw in a woman’s life, the public will help them justify the crime.
The death of Consolata Githinji, a 22-year-old student in Kilimani, is a devastating example of this rot in our collective soul. When the news first broke, the internet spiralled into a toxic cloud of whataboutism, victim blaming and shaming.
People who didn't even know her name were suddenly experts on her character, demanding a "perfect victim" before they would offer a shred of empathy. They argued she should have known the man for a decade or met him only in her parents' living room, acting as if her life only had value if she followed a set of imaginary rules that never actually protect anyone from a monster.
Then the video surfaced, and it was more cruel than any of us could have imagined. In that footage, a man who isn't in shock or a grieving partner is busy collecting alibis. He is seen recording the watchmen and showing them Consolata’s body with a terrifying lack of care, as if she were a prop in a movie he was directing.
There was no rush for an ambulance and no frantic effort to save her life. Instead, he used his phone to document his own lie, repeatedly telling the guards that she wanted to kill herself and had jumped to her death.
However, the autopsy report eventually spoke the truth that Consolata no longer could. The medical examiner found that she had been brutally beaten. She did not jump; she was hit and broken long before she ever went over that railing. She fought for her life against a man who was already planning how to blame her for her own murder while he stood over her.
Despite this medical proof, the online shaming has not stopped. The comments still scream that she was a "slut" or that she should have been "more careful." This is a second murder. Consolata is not even allowed to rest because she is being picked apart by people who want to feel safe by convincing themselves that "good girls" don't get killed.
As someone who fights for young kids in court, I can tell you that "carefulness" is a myth used to silence women. Predators do not care how careful you are; they only care about what they can get away with, and our society ensures they get away with a lot by turning on the victims.
I think about her family and the impossible weight they are carrying. They have to navigate the loss of a daughter while watching a video of her last moments being used as a tool for her killer’s alibi. They have to read thousands of strangers insulting their child while they prepare for her funeral. By demanding a perfect victim, Kenyan men online are creating a world where murderers feel empowered. When you join the chorus of "why was she there," you are essentially standing in that video next to Tony, helping him prove his lie.
We need to stop. We need to look at that autopsy report and see it as a cry for justice from the grave. Consolata Githinji was a human being who deserved to live and to be safe.
She didn't die because of her choices; she died because a man decided to kill her and then filmed her body to save himself. If we do not stop affirming these murderers, the killing will never end. We must stop shaming the dead and finally hold the living accountable. Let Consolata rest, and let her family grieve without the weight of a nation’s judgment.
