NAIROBI, Kenya – Teargas clouds and public fury filled the air near Nairobi’s Archives building as protestors took to the streets, demanding justice for Albert Ojwang—a young blogger who died under suspicious circumstances while in police custody.
Chanting his name and waving placards, demonstrators braved anti-riot police and stinging teargas to call for the resignation of Deputy Inspector General Eliud Lagat.
Why? Because it was Lagat’s complaint that triggered Ojwang’s arrest last week—an arrest that turned fatal just hours later.
Ojwang, a vocal critic on social platform X, was picked up after allegedly “tarnishing” Lagat’s name online. Hours later, he was dead. The official line? He was brought to Central Police Station in “critical condition.” The public’s response? Enough is enough.
Inspector General of Police Douglas Kanja, DCI boss Mohammed Amin, and Deputy IG Gilbert Masengeli were summoned before MPs to explain the chain of events.
Lawmakers pressed them on why Ojwang was denied immediate medical care and whether any disciplinary action has been taken against the officers involved.
The grilling laid bare growing concerns over abuse of power, especially in an era where online expression often clashes with institutional authority.
And let’s not forget the Constitution—specifically Article 50, which guarantees the right to a fair trial. Albert never got his. No hearing. No defense. Just a jail cell, painful torture and, tragically, a body bag.
The outrage isn’t just about one young man’s death—it’s about what it represents.
For a country that claims to uphold freedom of expression, Ojwang’s case has become a flashpoint. Rights groups and digital freedom advocates are calling it a wake-up call, labeling the incident a chilling reminder of how quickly justice can be smothered in silence.
Meanwhile, on social media, Kenyans are connecting the dots. The same police service now under fire had earlier claimed Ojwang was “not well” upon arrival.
But if officers knew he was in distress, why wasn’t a medic called? And why does every layer of this case—from the arrest to the delayed response—reek of impunity?
As the country pushes for answers and accountability, the spotlight is firmly on Kenya’s top security chiefs. Because at the end of the day, the question haunting many is simple: if tweeting can lead to a death sentence in custody, who’s really safe?
