Today the world marks the International Day in Support of Victims of Enforced Disappearances.
During the nine years I have worked in the social justice space, I have faithfully marked this day because enforced disappearance is one of the gravest human rights violations imaginable.
This problem is bigger than any one administration, it is a systemic issue, though governments must always be held accountable for their actions.
Over the years, I have had the opportunity to attend global discussions on enforced disappearances and learn from countries that have faced this crisis at an unprecedented scale. One such country is Mexico, where more than 100,000 people remain missing.
Their experience offers an important warning. Countries do not wake up one day to a crisis of tens of thousands of disappeared people.
It starts with small numbers. It starts with political dissidents, suspected criminals, and government critics disappearing without consequence.
Once perpetrators discover there are loopholes in the law and little accountability, they become bolder.
Kenya may not be at Mexico level, but the warning signs are there.
My concern about this issue is not only professional. It is deeply personal.
I have seen firsthand the devastating impact of enforced disappearance on a family member. My step-sister experienced it when she was young, newly married, and raising a three-month-old baby. Her husband was a matatu driver at a time when it had become dangerous to be one.
It was during the 2007 crackdown on Mungiki, when the government had issued shoot-to-kill orders and security operations intensified. Many people were killed and many others disappeared. My brother-in-law was among those taken by a crack police unit from his stage. He has never been seen again.
His daughter is now in college. She has grown up never knowing what happened to her father. My sister still does not know whether he is dead or alive, whether he died years ago or is somewhere waiting to return home.
That is the emotional torture of enforced disappearance.
Families who recover the bodies of their loved ones at least have the opportunity for closure. Families whose loved ones disappear are denied even that. They are left suspended between hope and grief, never able to move on.
When I joined International Justice Mission (IJM) in 2017, I found an active case that had also begun as an enforced disappearance: the case of lawyer Willie Kimani, his client Josephat Mwenda, and their driver Joseph Muiruri.
I have written extensively about this case before, so I will not dwell on it.
However, it demonstrated both the horror of enforced disappearance and the importance of accountability.
The only reprieve for the families was that the bodies were eventually found, enabling the prosecution and conviction of the rogue police officers responsible for their murder.
But another case exposed a different challenge altogether and revealed the gaps in Kenya's legal framework.
The case of Dan Baru Nyamohanga from Kehancha clearly demonstrates why Kenya needs a law that specifically criminalizes enforced disappearances.
Baru was arrested alongside several others and held in police custody. After several days, a court ordered his release. His friends were released, but Baru remained behind because he demanded the return of KSh35,000 that police had taken from him.
The money was never returned. Neither was Baru. To this day, he has never come home.
His family, through the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights, filed a habeas corpus application to compel the police to produce him, dead or alive. By the time IJM became involved in 2018, the matter had been dragging through the courts. In a remarkable twist, the prosecution was even appearing on behalf of the National Police Service during the proceedings.
After sustained legal efforts and increased public attention, Justice Antony Mrima delivered a profound judgment. He ruled that Dan Baru had disappeared while in police custody.
He ordered the Officer Commanding Station (OCS) at Kehancha to produce Baru's body because he was convinced that Baru had been killed while in police custody. He further directed that if the OCS failed to produce the body, the Director of Public Prosecutions should charge him with murder. We were elated.
The judgment attracted national attention and appeared to mark a turning point. We immediately began pushing for the prosecution of the OCS for the murder of Dan Baru. Then reality set in.
It quickly became apparent that charging the OCS with murder would not be straightforward. The prosecution could not realistically pursue a murder case without an investigative file from the police.
There was also no body and no murder weapon to provide the evidence typically required to sustain such a charge. This is precisely the challenge posed by enforced disappearances.
The perpetrators understand the weaknesses in the system. They know that the primary legal remedy available to families is a writ of habeas corpus, which has significant limitations when a person has disappeared without a trace. The Dan Baru case exposed these limitations starkly.
The more recent case involving two Indian nationals and their Kenyan driver who were forcibly disappeared in 2022 illustrates the same challenge. Despite the arrest of several security officers, the matter continues to drag through the courts.
Attempts to pursue murder charges have faced significant legal hurdles. I am sure Dennis Itumbi could write a novel in this case.
These cases underscore a simple reality: Kenya lacks an adequate legal framework to deal with enforced disappearances.
For this reason, Kenya must ratify the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance and enact a standalone law criminalizing enforced disappearance.
Such a law would recognize enforced disappearance as a distinct crime and allow perpetrators to be prosecuted where witnesses can confirm that victims were arrested, detained, or abducted by state agents, even in circumstances where a body is never recovered.
I am encouraged that survivors of police violence, victims' families, and human rights defenders are now leading a campaign to criminalize enforced disappearances. This is a necessary step.
The government has previously committed to enacting such legislation. It was promised in political manifestos, and the President has repeatedly pledged to end extrajudicial killings and enforced disappearances. Now is the time to fulfil those promises.
Without a specific law, perpetrators continue to act with the expectation that they will never be held accountable. That expectation fuels impunity.
But this debate is ultimately about more than accountability. It is about families.
It is about wives waiting years for answers that never come. It is about children growing up without knowing what happened to their parents. It is about mothers and fathers who spend the rest of their lives searching for loved ones who disappeared into the hands of those entrusted to protect them.
The only way to break this cycle is to criminalize enforced disappearance and ensure that those responsible face justice.
Until then, too many Kenyan families will continue to live in uncertainty, denied both truth and closure.
Joseph Kariuki is the Communications Manager for Africa and Europe at International Justice Mission
