On July 7th, 2025, active citizens celebrated Saba Saba’s 35th birthday. In 1990, we crossed the Rubicon in our history by pushing back against authoritarianism that had repressed Kenyans’ political rights, especially their right to exercise multipartyism and political pluralism.
Back then, things were so bad that even if you exercised your freedom of speech, you weren’t assured of freedom after speech. Forced disappearances, torture chambers, and spying were the order of the day. We remember this horror movie of repression, which is part of our history, to remind ourselves of where we have been and wish never to return.
It’s unfortunate to note that what should be a moment of pride for how far we have come as a nation, including the not-so-new but progressive Katiba 2010, was also marked by the use of excessive force by the police. This is regrettable and a blow to our freedom.
This push for pluralism is commonly referred to as the Second Liberation of Kenya because even after colonisers left, the Africans who took over were widely viewed as an extension of colonialism, and it was important to remind them why we fought for independence. The First Liberation was marked by resistance against colonial rule, characterised by land grabbing, bullying of Africans, and brutality in unimaginable ways.
The Third Liberation in Kenya beckons. I posit that once we get it right through full implementation of Article 43 of the Constitution, we shall have gotten it right with the Third Liberation. I refer to it as the article of dignity and enjoyment. It dreams of a Kenya where people access the highest attainable standards of health; they have accessible and adequate housing, sanitation, are free from hunger with adequate, high-quality food; have social security, education, and clean water.
The Kenyan Gen Z set the stage for the Third Liberation when they protested against the tax-laden Finance Bill. At the heart of their advocacy and activism were genuine concerns about people unable to meet their material needs. Economists define these needs as physical goods and resources necessary for a person’s survival, well-being, and a decent standard of living.
In May this year, I visited Mauritius, an island country in the Indian Ocean. Not without its challenges, like any other country, but I was shocked to learn that public education is free from kindergarten to university, people don’t pay bills in public hospitals, transport is free for the disabled and the elderly, and their minimum wage is around 350 US dollars.
What’s more, the people looked generally happier and more relaxed knowing that their government has their back if things get worse. As I was enjoying my stay there, I couldn’t help but wonder why we have so many resources as a country yet fail to provide material needs and public goods for the people.
In Kenya, access to health is a right, yet there’s always a weak link. If the doctors aren’t on strike, the ambulance isn’t working, or there’s no medication in the pharmacy, or the SHA systems are down.
Sometimes, when I look at people who fought for our independence, Saba Saba heroes, and selfless shujaas, I get sad. They are either really poor, have sustained permanent disabilities, mental anguish, loss of family, or lack a safety net like a pension.
The drafters of Article 43 knew too well that in any society, there will be people falling into the cracks due to systemic failure, the vulnerable, and thus it talks about social protection and care. The elderly and the orphans would fall into these categories, too. If nothing else, they deserve dignity.
For those calling for yet another dialogue with a new baptismal name called intergenerational national conclave, I ask, what is the point of a conclave if people cannot put ugali and cabbage on the table?
-The writer comments on current affairs. [email protected]
By Wanja Maina