When Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua returned to Kenya, what should have been a routine political moment turned into a disturbing spectacle of organized thuggery, sanctioned silence, and terrifying disorder. Videos and eyewitness accounts revealed scenes of unprovoked violence at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, where goons—some masked, some openly identifiable—assaulted, mugged, and terrorized innocent citizens. All the while, police officers stood by like stone statues, watching with indifferent eyes as the chaos unfolded. There were no arrests. No dispersal orders. No pursuit of the culprits. Nothing.

This is not just a lapse in security. This is a damning indictment of a government that has lost its grip. Kenya is no longer being governed by constitutional authority—goons are governing it. The president, William Ruto, who has positioned himself as a digital-era strongman and self-styled reformer, now finds himself presiding over a state where he cannot guarantee basic safety at an international airport. This isn’t a weakness. It is collapsing.

For a regime that boasts of security reforms, digitization of state services, and the championing of law and order, the events at JKIA were a revelation of betrayal. The fact that government agencies—including intelligence units—were either unaware or complicit in this spectacle suggests that Kenya’s internal systems have either been infiltrated, neutralized, or are entirely dysfunctional. What kind of country fails to protect its own leaders, even those it disagrees with?

President Ruto must ask himself this critical question: Who is really in charge? Because when mobs operate with such precision and impunity, it is either they are working under instruction—or worse, the state has surrendered to rogue elements. It is a dangerous place for any country to be in when the president appears to be a spectator while shadow forces execute political intimidation in broad daylight.

And what message does this send to the world? Kenya has long marketed itself as a gateway to East Africa, a regional hub of stability and investment. But now, visitors are welcomed with images of violence, anarchy, and police impotence. If the government cannot secure a VIP arrival, how can it secure the life of a tourist, an investor, or an ordinary Kenyan? If political disagreements result in orchestrated mob violence, what future is left for democracy?

Let us be clear: this was not a spontaneous outburst by a few rowdy youth. It was a coordinated effort to humiliate, threaten, and intimidate. The silence from key state institutions—Interior Ministry, Police Service, NIS, and even the President himself—is telling. It points to either approval or paralysis. Either way, both are unacceptable.

President Ruto was once hailed as a strategic thinker, a man with a grip on power dynamics. But these goons—allegedly under his watch—have made a mockery of the law. They have exposed a presidency teetering on the edge, where loyalty is bought through fear and intimidation rather than ideas and leadership. The same forces that propelled him to power are now undermining the very foundations of that power.

There is still time for the president to reclaim authority—but not much. Every day that passes without arrests, without investigations, and without public accountability reinforces the belief that the state has been outsourced to chaos. The rule of law must be restored, not just in word but in bold, uncompromising action.

Kenya is not a jungle. It is a republic. But if the police take orders from political thugs, and intelligence agencies pretend not to see, then citizens must prepare for the worst: a nation where anyone can be attacked for speaking up, where fear becomes the new constitution, and where power is no longer exercised through the ballot but through the baton of the mob.

President Ruto must decide—and quickly—whether he will be remembered as the leader who upheld the republic or the one who surrendered it to gang rule. The clock is ticking, and the goons are already in motion.

By Eng. Maurice Kideda
Political Analyst and Diaspora Commentator

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are those of the author in his personal capacity as a political analyst and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance of The Diaspora Times or its affiliates. This piece is intended for public discourse and civic engagement purposes.