Marches across Kenya to mark the one-year anniversary of last year’s deadly anti-government demonstrations erupted into chaos on Wednesday, with police firing tear gas, water cannons, and live rounds at protesters. A coalition of human rights groups, including Amnesty International, reported that at least eight people were killed and 400 injured across 23 counties as initially peaceful memorials descended into running battles with security forces. This grim toll immediately overshadowed the original intent of the day: a solemn remembrance for the victims of state violence, turning it instead into a fresh testament to the country’s deepening political and social fractures.
The day was meant to be a solemn remembrance of the more than 60 people killed by security forces during the massive anti-tax protests in 2024, which peaked with the storming of parliament on June 25 of that year. Instead, it has become another grim chapter in the ongoing struggle between a frustrated, defiant youth and a government accused of responding with brutal force.
From Memorial to Mayhem: The Unfolding Violence
The morning began with an uneasy calm, as activists and families of victims had specifically called for peaceful marches to honor the dead. However, the air in major cities, particularly Nairobi, was thick with tension. Thousands of mostly young protesters began gathering, their faces a mix of solemn remembrance and simmering anger. They waved Kenyan flags, carried branches symbolic of peace, and displayed placards adorned with pictures of those killed last year. Their collective chants of “Ruto must go!” echoed through the streets, a direct and unambiguous challenge to President William Ruto, whose economic policies and perceived authoritarian tendencies have ignited a firestorm of discontent.
Authorities, having learned from the unexpected scale of last year’s demonstrations, had taken extensive pre-emptive measures. A massive security presence was deployed across urban centers. Major roads leading into city centers were blocked, and government buildings like the State House and Parliament were heavily fortified with barbed wire, creating an almost besieged atmosphere. Despite these barriers, protesters managed to perform symbolic acts of defiance and remembrance, laying flowers at the barricades in a poignant tribute to the fallen.
However, the tense peace quickly deteriorated. As the day progressed, scattered groups of protesters, their patience worn thin by the heavy police presence and lack of perceived government responsiveness, began to engage directly with security forces. They ripped up flagstones from pavements to hurl as projectiles, and small bonfires were lit around Nairobi’s central business district, adding to the atmosphere of unrest. The police responded with escalating force, unleashing torrents of tear gas and high-pressure water cannons, attempting to push back the surging crowds. Disturbingly, reports and eyewitness accounts, including those from journalists on the ground, indicated that police were firing live rounds to repel the demonstrators, leading directly to the reported fatalities.
The Ghost of 2024 and A Deeper Resentment
The violence of Wednesday is a direct and tragic echo of the events that shook Kenya exactly one year ago. The 2024 protests were initially sparked by a highly controversial finance bill that proposed sweeping tax hikes across various sectors, threatening to push an already struggling populace further into poverty. This bill ignited widespread fury, particularly among the youth, who organized through social media to form a massive national movement. The protests escalated rapidly, culminating in the unprecedented invasion of parliament on June 25, 2024. The government’s heavy-handed response to these demonstrations led to over 60 deaths, drew sharp condemnation from international human rights organizations, and deeply damaged Kenya’s democratic image.
While President Ruto eventually bowed to public pressure and withdrew the most unpopular aspects of that finance bill, the underlying grievances that fuel public discontent have not only persisted but have deepened. Today’s protesters argue that little has fundamentally changed. They point to a persistent and dire economic situation characterized by high unemployment rates among educated youth, soaring living costs, and a pervasive culture of corruption within government institutions.
The anger has been particularly inflamed by a series of recent incidents that underscore continued concerns about police impunity and human rights abuses. A critical flashpoint occurred earlier this month with the death of a teacher and popular blogger, Albert Ojwang, while in police custody. While six individuals, including three police officers, have since been charged with his murder, the case has become a powerful symbol and rallying cry against unchecked state violence and a system where accountability for abuses remains elusive.
Some observers worry that the volatile mood is being exploited, preventing any chance for sober reflection.
“There is nothing good to celebrate about the events that happened last year. If we were serious about commemorating June 25th, it should be in solemnity, prayer and restraint.”
This sentiment, expressed by analyst Javas Bigambo, highlights the tragic gap between what the day could have been—a moment for national healing—and the violent reality that unfolded.
An Unyielding Government and Deepening Disillusionment
The government’s response to the anniversary protests has been uncompromising and indicative of a hardline stance. The interior ministry issued stern warnings against any attempt to “provoke police” or breach secured areas. In a move widely condemned by media freedom advocates, the Communications Authority of Kenya ordered all television and radio stations to stop all live broadcasts of the protests. This directive was perceived as a blatant attempt to control the narrative, limit public awareness of the scale of the unrest, and obscure the government’s response.
President Ruto himself has remained defiant and unapologetic. In a recent speech, he publicly vowed to “stand by” the police, a statement that has only served to further inflame public anger and deepen the perception that his administration is unresponsive to the plight of ordinary Kenyans. This hardline stance, combined with the alarming frequency of disappearances of government critics—rights groups have counted more than 80 since last year’s protests, with dozens still missing—has led to widespread accusations that Kenya is perilously sliding back toward the authoritarianism that characterized its dark days of dictatorship in the 1980s and 1990s.
Conclusion
The anniversary of June 25 was a test for Kenya’s fragile democracy. It was an opportunity for solemn reflection, national dialogue, and a step toward healing the deep wounds of political and economic discontent. Instead, it has become a fresh wound, stained by reports of new deaths and widespread injuries. The events of Wednesday demonstrate that the deep chasm between the country’s youth and its government is not narrowing but expanding.
The cycle of protest, violence, and repression continues unabated, and with neither side showing willingness to back down, the future of Kenya’s stability looks increasingly fragile. The hope for peaceful, democratic change has, for now, been overshadowed by the smoke of tear gas and the chilling fear of what comes next in this escalating national crisis.
