Former Prime Minister Raila Odinga should spare us the lectures. We don’t need dialogue to know that using live bullets on unarmed protesters is wrong. That is not a matter for elite roundtables or “national conversations,” it is a matter of basic humanity.
The sight of young people bleeding on the streets for demanding a better future does not require political interpretation. It demands moral clarity and immediate action. Yet once again, we are being insulted with the tired script of dialogue, national healing and forgiveness — all without justice.
The problem is not a lack of understanding. Everyone— from State House to the police stations and the floor of Parliament — knows that what is happening in Kenya is wrong. Extrajudicial killings, forced disappearances, torture and mass arrests are not only unconstitutional, they are also barbaric. Yet they persist, not because of ignorance, but because those responsible know they can get away with it. There are no consequences: no police commander has resigned; no top officer has been prosecuted and no political leader has stepped aside to allow independent investigations. Impunity has become the new normal.
Let’s be clear: the police are not acting out of control, they are acting with approval. The brutality we are witnessing is not an accident. It is policy. It is strategy. It is the calculated use of force to suppress dissent, terrorise the public, and protect the privileges of a tiny elite.
President Ruto's regime has perfected the art of outsourcing State violence while maintaining plausible deniability. They blame the so-called “deep State” when it suits them, and the protesters when it doesn’t. Meanwhile, innocent blood continues to soak our streets.
What Raila Odinga and the other politicians fail to see or pretend not to see is that this country is on the edge. The youth of Kenya are not just protesting against the Finance Act or the high cost of living — they are rebelling against a system that has consistently robbed them of dignity, opportunity and voice. A system that sends their parents into poverty, their friends to the grave, and their dreams into exile. A system that tells them to be patient while looting billions. A system that laughs at their pain and accuses them of “hooliganism” when they cry out.
When you take everything from a people — their hope, their justice, their freedom — do not be surprised when they rise with nothing to lose. What we are witnessing is not mere protest; it is a generational reckoning. Gen Z, often dismissed as apathetic and addicted to social media, has become the conscience of the nation.
Their courage has exposed the cowardice of the political class. Their resistance has unmasked the cruelty of the State. And their voices — raw, fierce, and uncompromising — are echoing across the continent.
Yet instead of listening, the government responds with bullets. Instead of accountability, we get gaslighting. Instead of reform, we get repression. The message is clear: you have no right to complain, no right to organise and no right to exist outside the control of the state. That is not democracy; that is dictatorship.
And in the midst of all this, Raila Odinga — who once stood for justice, who once marched alongside the oppressed, who once went to jail for our freedoms — now calls for dialogue without accountability. How can there be healing without truth? How can there be peace without justice? What kind of leader asks for calm while the bodies of the young lie in morgues and their mothers weep at police stations?
History will not absolve those who choose silence in the face of State terror and will it be kind to those who compromise with killers. There is a moral line, and this regime has crossed it. Those who pretend not to see it are just as guilty. Kenya is at the crossroads — we can either continue down the path of repression, where the government rules through fear and the police are trained to shoot, not serve; or we can choose a different path. That’s the path where the Constitution is more than paper, where justice is not reserved for the rich, and where every citizen — regardless of age or status — is treated with dignity.
But for that to happen, we must stop sanitising State violence. We must name it, expose it and demand justice. We must stop pretending that dialogue can substitute accountability. And above all, we must refuse to be intimidated.
To the youth of Kenya: do not lose hope. Your anger is righteous. Your demands are legitimate. Your struggle is just. They may kill your bodies, but they cannot silence your truth. And when a generation stands united for justice, no regime — no matter how brutal — can stop them. Kenya is watching. The world is watching. And history is taking notes.
Gitobu Imanyara is an Advocate of the High Court, Publisher & Editor in Chief of The Platform for Law, Justice & Society
