The barbed wire barricade still stands. It cuts across the road in Nairobi like a scar, rusted now but still sharp. This morning, families laid flowers on that wire. They placed them gently, as if the steel might bite again. One year ago, on this very spot, police opened fire on protesters demanding accountability for rising taxes and state repression. At least 20 people died. The official narrative: 'unfortunate incident.' The reality: a massacre.
Sources who were there describe chaos. 'They came from nowhere. No warning, just bullets,' a witness told me, still trembling a year later. The bodies fell on the tarmac. The flowers this morning cover patches where blood once pooled. But the real stain is on the government of President William Ruto, and now UK aid agencies want answers.
Save the Children, Oxfam, and Christian Aid have jointly called for an independent inquiry. Their letter, obtained by this newsroom, states: 'The misuse of public funds and the violent suppression of dissent demand a transparent investigation, free from political interference.' They're not alone. Human Rights Watch has also weighed in, citing 'credible allegations of extrajudicial killings.'
This is not just a Kenyan problem. UK taxpayers have poured millions into Kenya through the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office (FCDO). Last year alone, the aid package totalled £125 million. The question is: where did that money go? Some of it, sources say, has been traced to equipment used by the police unit responsible for the barricade shootings.
Kenya's Independent Policing Oversight Authority (IPOA) launched a probe last year. It has been quietly shelved. Internal memos, which I have seen, reveal pressure from the presidency to 'avoid embarrassing the administration.' Instead of accountability, the government has doubled down. In February, parliament passed a new security law that grants officers immunity for 'actions taken in good faith during civil unrest.' It is a license to kill.
The families are not buying it. I spoke to Mary Atieno, whose son Charles was shot in the back while fleeing. 'They call it collateral damage. I call it murder. And the world is silent.' Her hands clasped a single white lily as she pressed it against the wire. 'I want an inquiry. I want justice. But more than that, I want them to stop lying.'
The British government has offered 'technical support' to Kenya's internal investigations. That is not enough. The UK aid agencies know this. They have seen this playbook before. In Ethiopia, in Myanmar, in Palestine. Independent inquiries are resisted, then delayed, then forgotten. Until the next atrocity.
Today, the sun beat down on Nairobi. The flowers began to wilt by midday. But the demand for truth does not fade. I have requested comment from the Kenyan Ministry of Interior and the British High Commission. Neither responded. The silence is as loud as the gunfire was one year ago.
We will keep watching. Because behind every flower on that wire, there is a name. And behind every name, a story of state violence. The families deserve an inquiry. They deserve the truth. And we owe it to them to make sure this story does not die.
