By Professor Peter Ndiangui, Fort Myers, Florida
Senior Editor, The Diaspora Times

We have reached a defining moment in the history of our beloved nation. A
moment so grave, so harrowing, that it demands from each of us not silence, not
indifference, but a collective moral awakening. How many more must die before
we rise, as one people, and declare without fear or hesitation: enough is
enough?
The scenes emerging from the Saba Saba demonstrations are nothing short of a
national nightmare—images that will forever stain the conscience of Kenya.
Unarmed citizens—men, women, and even the youth—armed only with their
voices, their mobile phones, and their unyielding hope for a better Kenya, have
been gunned down in cold blood. The footage and photographs flooding social
media and international outlets leave no room for doubt: this was not crowd
control. This was a calculated, premeditated massacre.
The police, under directives emanating from the very pinnacle of power—through
the Ministry of Interior—have been transformed into agents of terror. A shoot-to-
kill policy is being ruthlessly implemented against peaceful demonstrators. Worse
still, militia groups, loyal to the ruling regime but operating outside the bounds of
law, have been unleashed to do what the uniformed forces may not: to brutalize, to
maim, and to kill. This is not law enforcement. This is state-sponsored
terror—pure and simple.
Today, once again, dozens of innocent lives have been extinguished. This
bloodshed is not an anomaly—it is part of an accelerating pattern that began with
the 2024 protests. Week after week, the death toll climbs. Communities bury their
children. Mothers wail. Fathers grieve in silence. Yet the machinery of repression
grinds on. Our rivers are swelling not with water, but with the tears of a nation
under siege.
The world is no longer blind. The veil has been lifted. International media
giants—BBC, Al Jazeera, CNN—have stopped mincing words. Kenya is now
described, with chilling accuracy, as a state on the verge of collapse—a police
state where democracy is gasping for breath. Global analysts warn that we stand
on the precipice of dictatorship, our nation teetering perilously on the edge of
moral and political ruin. Our national shame is not hidden. It is on full display for
all the world to see.
Let it be known, without equivocation: President William Ruto, together with
his enablers—Kipchumba Murkomen, Kimani Ichung’wah, and others—have

forfeited every shred of moral authority to govern this nation. They have
desecrated the Constitution. They have abandoned their sacred duty to protect life.
They have declared war on their own citizens. They must go.
It is not merely their incompetence that condemns them. It is their utter moral
bankruptcy. The President’s recent words and actions reveal a man who appears
increasingly unhinged. On one day, he declares himself a devout Christian,
insisting on building a church at State House—a grotesque blending of personal
faith and public office. On the next, he orders the killing of God’s own children in
the streets. Even more chilling, reports from credible sources indicate that while
returning from a church service in Embu, vehicles in his own convoy ran down
innocent civilians—and his handlers sought to cover it up. This is not
leadership. This is not sanity. It is the behavior of a man who has lost his moral and
possibly mental bearings. For the sake of the Republic, he must be removed
before more innocent blood is shed.
The cries of the victims echo across valleys, slums, and cities. The International
Criminal Court (ICC) is watching. History is watching. Let every soldier, every
police officer, every politician remember: No title, no uniform, no propaganda
will shield you from the long arc of justice. The world remembers its tyrants.
Justice, though sometimes delayed, is never denied.
We face a simple yet profound choice: Will we allow Kenya to be extinguished
by the very hands that were entrusted to protect it, or will we rise to reclaim
the soul of our nation? We must not remain bystanders while our democracy is
bled dry. This land—its dreams, its hopes, its future—belongs not to the corrupt
elite, not to violent operatives, but to the people of Kenya.
The time has come to act. Let us rise—not in hatred, but in unshakable moral
courage. Not in lawlessness, but in firm conviction. For the sake of our children,
for the dignity of the living, and for the memory of the dead, we must say no
more.
We will not be silenced.
We will not be broken.
We will not be complicit in our own oppression.
William Ruto: for the sake of this nation, for the lives already lost, and for
those who might yet be spared—RESIGN. The people have spoken. They do
not need you anymore. What a heartache you have become.

Let history record that in this hour of darkness, we stood on the side of justice, on
the side of life, and on the side of Kenya.