“Go home and love your children.” Two things came to mind listening to Senior Principal Magistrate Samson Temu admonish activist Boniface Mwangi. On the one hand, I could resonate. The other part of me though, was hugely disappointed.
I was taken aback by his offhand remark that police are “trained to kill humans not animals”. Who exactly are the police trained to kill? Under what circumstances? Was he, in actual sense, admitting that extra-judicial killing is part of our policing and judicial processes or was this a veiled threat?
Unfortunately, that is the true state of things. Each time Mr Mwangi has had run ins with officers, my heart stops. There is always that fear that with each riot or demonstration, a father or mother may not return home. For an activist in this country, every day on the streets is a date with the grim reaper. You might go back home with a few bruises or you might not go home at all. The criminalisation of activism has it that, our police will use every force at their disposal to silence activists faster than they can use the same to pursue actual criminals.
So yes, I understand where the magistrate was coming from. Ours is a thankless society. We ridicule those who take the frontline for us for petty tokens. We have labelled them reckless, dramatic, donor-funded attention seekers, from the comfort of our homes. We will openly vilify present-day activists, despise them for their bravery and loudly celebrate when they are battered. And that is gutting. The truth is, if something were to happen to him or any other activist today, their families will be asked by our action or inaction to move on after a couple of days. We love the results of activism but not the activists. We hate their guts because they judge our cowardice.
On the other hand though, the magistrate’s pep talk, coming from someone who studied the law and took an oath to uphold justice and defend the Constitution was unfortunate. While lay people are allowed to hold ignorant or even emotional takes on activism, it is only natural to expect a member of the bench would be to know better because in that courtroom, they speak for the Constitution.
It would have been more meaningful for instance if he instead, addressed State officials who time and again abuse the State machinery and waste court time with fabricated charges to silence dissenting voices. It would have been beautiful to hear him applaud Mwangi for his contribution to better governance, upholding justice regardless of who was in the dock. Now that would be wholesome
Kenya is where it is today because of people who refused to simply go home and love their children. Wangari Maathai, Gitobu Imanyara, Martha Karua and all those gallant citizens of the second liberation loved their children even while on the streets. They were imprisoned, humiliated, stripped of their dignity, and even exiled because they understood someone needed to speak up. Our present constitution is a testimony of their courage and boldness where it would have been easier to sit back and go through the paces like everyone else. Had they chosen to go home and love their families, maybe we would be experiencing the madness we are witnessing with our neighbours.
That courtroom moment failed the children of this nation. Those in that room, and those who watched it. A great opportunity to teach them honour, sacrifice, and courage was lost. Where they should have been taught to use their voice to defend justice, they were encouraged to look away and mind their business. In that moment, the magistrate had an excellent opportunity to show the young ones what civil duty looked like right in his courtroom. He set to put out the fire of patriotism by diminishing what Mwangi and all activists like him live for.
“Go home and love your children” may be an endearing call. But sometimes, loving our children may mean stepping out and refusing to watch injustice prevail.
Ms Wekesa is development communication consultant. [email protected]
By Faith Wekesa