KHALID: Shoot to kill: True security is not built on a foundation of bullets and fear but on justice, rule of law

Kenya stands at a crossroads. Our constitution, born of struggle and sacrifice, guarantees fundamental rights that define who we are as a nation. At its core is the right to life – an unassailable principle upon which all other freedoms rest.

Yet, at this very moment, certain leaders and police commanders are flirting with the darkest impulses of state power: issuing shoot-to-kill orders that threaten to unravel our constitutional order and trample on the rights of ordinary Kenyans.

Last week, Coast regional police commander Ali Nuno made headlines for telling officers to shoot anyone found carrying pangas (machetes) with the implication that they should be killed rather than arrested or disarmed.

This instruction was widely circulated and discussed on social media and mainstream news outlets, sparking both praise from some quarters and serious concern from others. 

This is not a mere question of semantics or policing tactics. It hits at the heart of the Kenyan constitution—Article 26, which unequivocally guarantees the right to life for every person in Kenya, without exception.

The constitution does not grant police the discretion to decide, on a whim or under vague “shoot first, ask questions later” orders, who lives and who dies. To do so is to place the life of every Kenyan at the mercy of an officer’s subjective judgment. Article 50 is categorical that every person is innocent until the contrary is proved.

Moreover, Article 49 of the constitution enshrines the rights of arrested persons, including the right not to be subjected to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment and the right to challenge the legality of their detention.

A shoot-to-kill order that encourages lethal force against suspected offenders undermines these protections and effectively denies suspects the right to due process. No matter how heinous the alleged crime, our legal system requires suspects to be apprehended, charged and tried – not summarily executed on the street by an overzealous constable.

History offers too many tragic lessons about what happens when state organs are given licence to kill without accountability. In many parts of Kenya’s past, overly aggressive orders have led to innocent Kenyans being gunned down in broad daylight, their only crime being proximity to suspicion or mischaracterisation by law enforcement. The ripple effects of such actions are profound: families shattered, communities terrorised and faith in the rule of law corroded.

We saw this most recently in Huruma, Nairobi, where 21-year-old Sheryl Adhiambo, a first-year student at the Kenya Medical Training College, was fatally shot on the night of Saturday, February 7, 2026. According to multiple reports, Sheryl was struck by a bullet as police pursued a suspect in her neighbourhood.

She had just finished her exams and was helping at her family’s fish kiosk when the bullet tore through her head, a bullet that was not meant for her, but nonetheless ended her life. 

Let us be clear: Sheryl was no criminal. She was no gang member brandishing a panga on a dark street. She was a student full of promise, whose future opportunities and dreams were extinguished by a policing culture that all too often treats human life as expendable. This culture of lethal force is not confined to Huruma or the Coast.

Over the years, all across Kenya, there have been too many incidents where police have resorted to trigger-happy responses in civilian areas, leading to the needless deaths of innocent bystanders.

We cannot pacify our citizens by equipping police with open tickets to shoot. That is not peace, that is fear. Professional, constitutional policing is about restraint, training, accountability and respect for human dignity.

It is about using force only when absolutely necessary, in proportion to the threat and always with accountability mechanisms that protect citizens from abuse.

Kenya’s police service, as it currently operates in many areas, has shown itself to be ill trained, under supervised and at times dangerously irresponsible in the use of force. To give such an institution carte blanche to decide who lives and who dies is to abandon our constitutional values.

Some may argue that Kenya is facing rising crime, that dangerous gangs wielding pangas and other crude weapons threaten public safety. This is true. Violent crime must be addressed.

But we must not respond to criminality with policies that make the state itself a threat to life. True security is not built on a foundation of bullets and fear. It is built on justice, rule of law, community engagement and well-trained and accountable law enforcement.

The constitution is not a decorative piece of paper to be conveniently referenced when it suits the powerful and ignored when it inconveniences them.

It is the supreme law of the land. Article 26, Article 49 and Article 50 are not optional clauses. They are non-negotiable rights that bind every state actor, including those entrusted with our safety.

Shoot-to-kill orders have no place in modern Kenya. They are unconstitutional, illegal and fundamentally unKenyan. They erode public trust, endanger innocent lives and undermine the very values our country was built to uphold. Our constitution says that every life is sacred.

We must ensure that our laws, our practices and our leaders reflect that truth — without exception.

Chief executive officer, VOCAL Africa