Time to demand action over insecurity in Kenya

I have tried writing this piece before.

Twice, in fact. And both times, I abandoned the quest halfway for a topic that was easier to grapple with, and easier to express.

And then a few days ago, I was sitting in a waiting room, which would have been totally nondescript if it were not for the fact that a believer in the human race had chosen to print out and put up a few quotes on the soft-board.

No doubt, the intention was to call on people’s conscience to do the right thing, and to go on even when the tides are against you.

This weekend, news broke of the heinous Mandera massacre and how horrific the last moments on earth were for the departed.

I went through the motions that we all go through when we hear of such acts. First, I felt an all-too-familiar dread in the pit of my stomach, reminding me that this is what Kenya has become.

All it takes is being in the wrong place at the wrong time and your life is snuffed out in a heartbeat.

Then I tried recalling if I knew anyone in Mandera so I could get in touch with my family and ask if we had heard from them.

And then I mentally calculated the distance from Mandera to where I reside and somewhere in me, a sigh of relief, it was far enough for me to live under the delusion of safety until the next time something happens closer to home.

In ordinary circumstances, my disposition would now change to ‘business-as-usual’ and I would shift my attention to other things. But then the quote resurfaced in my mind.

Martin Niemoller, a prominent pastor who was first an ally, then a foe of Adolf Hitler said: “First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Socialist...Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me”.

What am I trying to say here?

That we cannot afford to adopt an apathetic attitude just because these crimes are not happening in our immediate backyards.

And it is certainly not business as usual. So, today, I am going to sit and make peace with this discomfort as I join Kenyans in appealing, nay, demanding for change. Enshrined in Articles 238 and 239 of the Constitution are Kenyans’ rights to protection of their freedom, rights, property, stability, peace and prosperity.

None of the other freedoms we yearn for, whether it is the freedom to build a business or raise our children, can exist in a state where there is growing, rampant insecurity. I will not deign to imply that the security solution is a simplistic or instant one. But it is worthwhile and it deserves a lot more attention than the wild goose chase that are all for show and nothing for substance.

I have talked of the knee-jerk reactionary modus operandi that our security apparatus relies on before. Unfortunately, six months down the line nothing has changed. In fact, things have got significantly worse.

The height of absurdity is when a representative of the security office responds to a violence incident with some variation of “I am not aware of / have no information on the incident”.

It is not only in bad taste, but it reeks of professional incompetence and negligence.

What exactly does that mean, when you have intelligence arms, paid for by the taxpayer, at your beck and call?

Kenyans have been reduced to deserving protection only if we have paid for it.

Do you only enjoy security if an absolutely underserved title precedes your name or you have an electorate to serve?

Then the taxpayers will pay for you and your kin’s security, while they themselves fall prey to marauding youth, nihilistic killings and terrorist expressions?

Do you live in certain areas of the country where your ethnicity somehow declares you sacred?

Then maybe your existence will be spared. But make no mistake, as Niemoller lived to tell, they will come for you too. If not sooner, then later.

There is no one Kenyan life that is more, or less precious than the other. It doesn’t matter whether it is an individual of real or perceived standing in the community or a ‘nondescript’ person from a marginalised community.

The pain of a family and the grief is no greater or smaller depending on where a person comes from.

But for the ruling elite, the supposed leadership and the security arms charged with protecting us, it certainly seems that we are collateral damage in whatever power games are going on behind the scenes. Kenyan lives are not yours to do with as you will.

Endemic corruption, personal enrichment, professional incompetence, growing intolerance... the list is growing by the day, and with it, more lives are being lost.

When can we expect the National Security Council to step up and demonstrate the leadership that the taxpayers are paying for?