In the swirling tempest of public outrage and demands for justice following the brutal death of blogger Albert Ojwang in police custody, a new development has emerged that stirs both gratitude and profound suspicion: President William Ruto's personal contribution to Ojwang's grieving family. This gesture, while seemingly compassionate, has sparked an essential question: Is this one of those calculated PR schemes, designed to silence the common mwananchi's relentless pursuit of justice?
On Monday, June 16, 2025, President Ruto reportedly reached out to Albert Ojwang’s father, Meshack Ojwang', offering his condolences and a donation of KSh 2 million to support the family. Meshack Ojwang' himself expressed his gratitude, stating,
"Namshukuru rais kwa kuchukua kijana wangu Albert Omondi kama kijana wake na kuhisi kuona kitu. Kwa sababu wengi wameaga dunia, lakini alichagua kuchukua mzigo huu kama wake ili akaweze kusema pole kupitia kwa simu yangu." (I thank the President for taking my son Albert Omondi as his own and feeling something. Because many have died, but he chose to take this burden as his own, to offer condolences through my phone). Former Prime Minister Raila Odinga also reportedly extended his sympathies to Meshack via phone.
Yet, the timing of this significant gesture raises immediate red flags. This act of presidential benevolence unfolded on the very same day the Cabinet Secretary for Interior and National Administration publicly announced sweeping directives for police stations across the country – including the mandatory installation of CCTV surveillance with backup systems in all 1209 stations within two years, a proposed law criminalizing tampering with these cameras, and the digitization of occurrence books. This synchronicity is hard to ignore, especially when it coincides with the dramatic resignation of Deputy Inspector General Eliud Lagat, the very officer who filed the complaint that led to Albert Ojwang's fatal arrest.
For a family like Albert Ojwang's, who hail from a humble background – his father having admitted to working tirelessly in a quarry to fund his only son's education – KSh 2 million is a life-altering sum. But is money a solution to a life lost? Can any amount of financial compensation truly atone for a son brutally taken under the supposed protection of the state?
The resounding answer from a galvanized public, particularly from the fearless Gen Z generation, is a resounding NO. Justice, they argue, needs to be served. And justice, in this case, is not about offering the grieving family money; it's about holding those responsible to account. This includes, crucially, the Deputy Inspector General Eliud Lagat, who ordered the initial arrest that set in motion the chain of events leading to Albert's tragic death. The law, they insist, needs to take its full course, ensuring that those behind the killing, regardless of their rank or influence, are put behind bars.
This raises another critical question: Is the government's sudden flurry of responsive actions – the high-profile resignation, the promise of systemic reforms, and now the presidential donation – a genuine pivot towards accountability, or a calculated effort to quell the rising tide of public discontent? Is the government genuinely remorseful and committed to change, or are they simply scared of the impending Gen Z demonstrations and the growing power of a digitally mobilized populace unwilling to be silenced?
The tragic narrative of Albert Ojwang is not merely a single incident; it has become a symbol of a deeper, systemic rot within Kenya's policing institutions. While condolences and financial aid can offer temporary relief, they cannot, and must not, replace the fundamental demand for justice and accountability. The true measure of the government's sincerity will not be in the immediate gestures, but in its unwavering commitment to ensuring that those responsible for Albert Ojwang's death face the full force of the law, and that such horrific incidents become a relic of Kenya's past, not a recurring nightmare.
