The #RutoMustGo protests have been a constant hum in the background of Kenyan life this year. "How do you tear-gas a baddie" was a chant I kept seeing online, a stark reminder of the tension simmering beneath the surface. For me, the day started with a familiar internal debate: protest or survive? Inflation has been brutal. My expenses are up, my purchasing power is down, and the thought of spending my last few shillings on transport and risking my safety felt almost impossible. They say the middle class is one medical crisis away from poverty, but I'm not even middle class, so the stakes felt doubly high.
I wrestled with the decision. Could I really afford to skip lunch, brave the sun, and potentially face police brutality just to protest? But the HRD in me, the human rights defender, couldn't ignore the pull. This wasn't just about me; it was about everyone struggling. I knew I had to do something.
Initially, I planned to go to Nairobi. But as I followed the news online, I grew increasingly worried. Reports of tear gas, plainclothes officers, and even live bullets made my stomach churn. It felt too risky. So, I changed my mind and decided to go to Kiambu town instead. It felt like a safer option, a way to still participate without putting myself in undue danger.
Kiambu, though, has its own shadows. It's a place where femicide rates are alarmingly high, second only to Nairobi. The statistics are chilling: one in three women globally experience violence, and often, the perpetrator is someone they know, someone they trust. It's a horrifying reality, and it made me think about the irony of it all. Where are the voices of the "pro-life" and "family-protecting" groups when it comes to this violence against women, often happening within the supposed safety of the home? This isn't just a social issue; it's a human rights and health crisis.
I think about the traditional gender roles we're all raised with: women as caregivers, and men as protectors. But those roles are a cage. Why should women be limited to those roles? Why are men excused from the responsibilities of caring and nurturing? This kind of thinking breeds patriarchy, and patriarchy breeds a lack of love, which too often leads to violence. It's a cycle we desperately need to break.
A small but determined group had gathered in Kiambu town to protest the rising tide of femicide in Kenya. Among the crowd, I was heartened to see sex workers on the front lines and a diversity banner waving in the air. It felt like a space where I belonged, and I quickly joined their ranks.
The protest had begun at the governor's office, winding its way through Kiambu town towards the police station and then on to the county assembly. The original plan was to march all the way to the DCI headquarters, but that proved unfeasible. As we walked, we stopped cars entering the town, asking drivers to declare, "Stop killing women!" Many, especially men, readily complied. Though the crowd remained relatively small, it grew as we progressed.
At the police station, officers stood outside, observing but not joining. However, they did show support by doing their job- clearing the way and managing traffic. Upon reaching the county assembly, we were met by three women representatives, including the enthusiastic nominated MPs Margret Njambi and Susan Njeri Wamburu. Conspicuously absent was the Kiambu Woman Rep Hon. Wamuratha Wanjiku, whose absence was also noted at the recent launch of the 16 Days of Activism. The "Mama County," known for her support of the "boy child" and her leadership in fighting the triple threats of HIV/AIDS, gender-based violence, and teen pregnancies through the County Salama program, was nowhere to be seen. It was concerning, especially given the need for a 10-member board to advise the OCS on gender-based violence cases – a fact that came to light due to a lack of civic education.
Before presenting the petition, a Q&A session arose. Questions were raised about the allocation of the 1% of civic education funds (a claim the representatives denied) and the status of the two existing safe houses in the county. There was no mention of the 100 million shillings set aside by the president to combat femicide. Instead, we heard excuses about men being too busy with other responsibilities to participate in the conversation. The representatives also dismissed a previous petition from February and encouraged us to get involved in the process of forming the 10-person board that supports the gender desk operators.
As advised by the county assembly representatives, we then proceeded to the Commissioner's office. We were met with closed gates and stunned faces. Despite prior notification of our protest, they asked us to hand over the petition through the gate- which personally irked me and the crowd. Don't they take these matters seriously? We wondered, very disappointed. Only after further negotiation were representatives allowed inside.
The lack of cohesion among our leaders in this fight is deeply troubling. Why were legislators telling us that we needed more legislators? Are they not aware of their own roles? Why is our freedom questioned? Why is the responsibility shifted to society when it is the government's duty to protect its citizens?
The mass media also plays a significant role. From music videos and movies to sensationalized articles, the media's portrayal of violence against women often romanticizes or justifies these heinous crimes. As a Media Council paper stated, some media outlets seem to want to "play relationship experts and romance writers by justifying this heinous crime and playing Shakespearean tactics by adding romance to what ought to be reported in two words: murder; crime.” This echoes Bell Hooks's work on the power of representation, where she argues that while media doesn't directly dictate our actions, it can shape our perceptions and normalize unacceptable behaviors. "I think that it's possible to embrace the knowledge that there's a direct link between representations and choices we make in our lives that does not make that link absolute," Hooks writes. "But that is not to say, that if I watched enough of those images I might not come away thinking that certain forms of unacceptable male violence in coercion in relationship to my female body is acceptable."
Article 26(3) of the Kenyan Constitution guarantees the right to life, stating that no one shall be deprived of life intentionally, except as authorized by law. Seeing the violence in Nairobi made me think of Fanon's words on colonialism, which seem equally relevant to the issue of femicide: “…it is violence in its natural state, and it will only yield when confronted with greater violence.”
The sooner we recognize that patriarchy, embedded within our political system, is a weapon used to control us, the sooner we can effectively fight back.
I want to express my gratitude to the individuals and organizations involved in the petition and the protest: Feminists in Kenya who organized #totalshutdownke, KIASWA, Red Umbrella Fund, Martha Mwatha from #EndFemcideke, Faith Goko from Healing Hearts, Rev Njeri Wa Kamau from Banana Human rights activist member of Buge Mashinani initiative & School of Governance, Dir of one the CSOs in Kiambu, Civic educator & journalist, Youth Alive representative Prince KR, Wambui Mitine from Maisha na Sheria Mashinani (MaSHMA); Advocate and Human Rights Defender, Claudia Kariuki Miss Teen Universe Kenya Kiambu, and so many others.
Stop killing women! We will not rest until we are all free.
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