When President William Ruto
announced Kenya's Panel of Experts on the Compensation of Victims of Protests
and Riots in August 2025, many hoped it would finally address the police
brutality that has plagued our protests since 2017. The 18-member panel, led by
Professor Makau Mutua and Law Society of Kenya President Faith Odhiambo, has
been tasked with identifying victims and recommending compensation within 120
days.
But here's the uncomfortable truth: this panel, despite good intentions, falls far short of delivering real justice. As someone who has advocated for human rights in Kenya, I believe we deserve better than what amounts to a bureaucratic band-aid on a gaping wound.
The South African Comparison That Doesn't Hold Up
Panel supporters, including
Chair Mutua, have compared this initiative to South Africa's famous Truth and
Reconciliation Commission (TRC). This comparison is misleading and insulting to
what real transitional justice looks like.
South Africa's TRC was established
by parliament after apartheid ended, with clear legal authority and
independence. It had three key pillars: uncovering truth, providing
reparations, and offering amnesty in exchange for confessions. Most
importantly, it held public hearings where victims could tell their stories and
the nation could confront its dark past.
Kenya's panel? It's an
executive creation without parliamentary backing, already facing court
challenges over its legality. Four activists have sued, arguing it duplicates
existing institutions like the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights.
Unlike the TRC's truth-seeking mission, our panel focuses primarily on data
verification and compensation recommendations. No public testimonies, no
truth-telling, no accountability for those who ordered the violence.
Money Without Truth Isn't Justice
The panel's biggest flaw is
treating compensation as the end goal rather than part of a larger justice
process. Real justice requires truth. Victims need their stories heard, society
needs to understand what went wrong, and we all need assurance it won't happen
again.
Think about it: if someone
receives compensation for police brutality but we never learn who ordered the
excessive force, how do we prevent future abuse? Without truth, payments can
feel like "blood money", an attempt to buy silence rather than
deliver justice.
Remember the victims of the
2007-2008 post-election violence? They waited over a decade for compensation,
and many are still waiting. Meanwhile, the same systems that failed them remain
unchanged because we never fully confronted what happened or why.
The Troubling Shift of Former Critics
What troubles me most as an
advocate is how some of the panel's key figures have transformed from
government critics to collaborators.
Professor Mutua, the panel
chair, was once aligned with opposition leader Raila Odinga and regularly
criticized government overreach. Now he's Ruto's senior advisor and
spokesperson. How can someone who once opposed the regime's tactics now lead an
"independent" panel under its authority?
Even more concerning is
Faith Odhiambo's involvement as vice-chair. As LSK President, she has been
fearless in confronting this government: leading protests against police
brutality, rejecting previous government appointments, and demanding
accountability for protest deaths. She was a symbol of resistance.
Now she's joined this
panel, defending her decision as "patriotism" and claiming she can
"push for justice from within." She's even suggested she might resign
if "frustrated," but this hardly addresses the fundamental problem.
Many activists and young
protesters feel betrayed. They see someone who once stood with them now
legitimizing the very government she criticized. As one online critic put it,
how can Ms. Odhiambo trust an administration she once fought to implement
reforms without interference?
This isn't just about
individual choices by the panel members but a pattern of co-opting independent
voices. When former critics join government initiatives, it undermines public
trust and sends a message that opposition can be bought or absorbed.
A Pattern of Failed Justice
Kenya has a history of
creating commissions and panels that promise much but deliver little. Remember
our own Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission (2009-2013)? Despite its
flaws, it at least attempted to uncover historical injustices. Yet most of its
recommendations gathered dust.
This new panel risks
joining that list of unfulfilled promises. Economic constraints raise questions
about funding. How will a debt-ridden Kenya pay for meaningful compensation?
Police reform advocates argue the panel duplicates existing efforts without
addressing the core problem of impunity.
What Real Justice Would Look Like
Instead of this narrow
focus on compensation, we need a comprehensive approach that includes:
- Truth-seeking: Public
hearings where victims can share their experiences and society can
understand the full scope of abuse.
- Accountability: Clear
identification of those responsible for ordering or carrying out excessive
force, with consequences for their actions.
- Systemic reform: Changes to
police training, oversight, and protest management that prevent future
abuse.
- Genuine independence: Leadership
that maintains distance from the government being investigated, not former
critics turned collaborators.
- Parliamentary backing: Legal
authority that ensures recommendations have teeth and can't be easily
ignored.
Moving Forward
I don't write this to
dismiss the real suffering of protest victims or to discourage all efforts at
reform. Their pain is valid, and they deserve both acknowledgment and
compensation. But they also deserve truth, accountability, and assurance that
future protesters won't face the same fate.
As advocates and citizens,
we must demand more than cosmetic measures. We must resist the temptation to
accept inadequate solutions simply because they're politically convenient. Real
justice requires uncomfortable truths, systemic changes, and leaders who
maintain their independence even when it's difficult.
The victims of Kenya's
protest violence deserve nothing less than genuine transitional justice, not a
bureaucratic exercise that treats symptoms while ignoring the disease. Until
we're willing to confront the full truth of what happened and why, we'll continue
cycling through the same patterns of violence and impunity that have defined
our political protests for far too long.
The question now is whether
we'll settle for this flawed panel or continue demanding the comprehensive
justice our democracy deserves. The choice, as always, is ours to make.
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