Prof. Ndiang’ui

Senior Editor at The Diaspora Times.

The recent deployment of armed police to intimidate and harass students at Butere

Girls High School is a disturbing manifestation of state-sanctioned repression. That

school children, many of whom are not yet of voting age, should be subjected to

such terror for merely expressing themselves is not only a grotesque abuse of

power; it is a profound national disgrace.

These young women, courageous and resolute, did what our Constitution

empowers every citizen to do—they exercised their freedom of expression and

stood firm in the face of authoritarian overreach. That their voices were met with

threats and intimidation speaks volumes about the current regime's growing fear of

dissent, even from children. But these students did not flinch. Their chants cut

through the silence of complicity, echoing the spirit of a people who have

historically resisted tyranny.

This moment is a chilling reminder of Kenya’s past. The 1970s saw artists and

intellectuals like Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o jailed without trial for using theatre to

awaken the people’s consciousness. Half a century later, we find ourselves

confronting the same demons. Our children are being punished—not for violence,

not for crime—but for speaking, for dreaming, for imagining a better Kenya.

Have we truly learned nothing from our past? This nation birthed a progressive

Constitution in 2010—a legal charter born of sacrifice and struggle. That same

Constitution is now being desecrated by the very leaders sworn to uphold it.

Let us be reminded that Article 33 of the Kenyan Constitution guarantees the right

to freedom of expression, encompassing the freedom to seek, receive, and impart

information or ideas, as well as freedom of artistic creativity, academic freedom,

and freedom of scientific research. And article 37 guarantees the right to peaceful

assembly, demonstration, picketing, and petitioning public authorities. This right is

fundamental, allowing citizens to express their opinions and concerns collectively

without the use of force. 

These rights belong to every Kenyan, regardless of age or station—including the

students of Butere. By sending armed police to silence them, the state did not

merely attack children; it assaulted the Constitution, the rule of law, and the very

foundations of our democracy. It attacked all of us! We are embarrassed to say the

least when a government turns its coercive apparatus against schoolgirls, it has

abdicated its moral authority to govern. These students have displayed a depth of

conviction and clarity of purpose that puts many of our elected leaders to shame.

Their peaceful defiance, like the Gen Z uprising of 2024 is not an act of rebellion;

it is a democratic call to accountability.

Let us be unequivocal: the now-resounding chant “RUTO MUST GO” is not

merely about an individual. It is a rejection of a system that thrives on suppression,

corruption, and fear. The Kenyan people are speaking—and they are speaking not

just with anger, but with moral clarity.

And yes, it is shameful. Shameful, as even senior figures like former Attorney

General Justin Muturi and former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua have openly

admitted, that the state has sunk so low as to terrorize schoolgirls. The rot is

visible, the hypocrisy unmasked. Mr. Ruto and your enablers—have you no

shame? Have you truly become so afraid of young voices that you send police in

place of policy?

These young girls are not your enemy. They are the voice of the new Kenya—bold,

unrelenting, and unafraid. Yes, you should fear them, because they are many.

We must not, and we shall not, return to the darkness of authoritarian rule. We owe

it to the freedom fighters who sacrificed their lives for this democracy, and to the

future generations who deserve a Kenya where liberty is not a privilege, but a

fundamental right.

To the girls of Butere: You are the conscience of this nation. Your courage is an

indictment of cowardice in high places. Your voices are powerful. Your resistance

is righteous. Your defiance is the beginning of something unstoppable.

And to the regime that mistakes force for authority—know this: your days are

numbered. The tremors you feel are not just chants. They are the cracking of a

foundation built on fear, and the rise of a new Kenya that refuses to bow.

Kenya deserves better. The Constitution demands it. And the people will deliver it.

Prof. Ndiang’ui

Fort Myers, Florida Gulf Coast University

Pndiangui3@aol.com