Category: Investigations

  • THE ZAKHEM-ECOBANK MACHINE: How Kenya’s Courts Were Weaponised to Drain a State Corporation of Over KES 78 Billion

    THE ZAKHEM-ECOBANK MACHINE: How Kenya’s Courts Were Weaponised to Drain a State Corporation of Over KES 78 Billion

    THE SLEEPING GIANT: A DEBENTURE BORN IN LAGOS

    In February 2006, a Lebanese construction company called Zakhem Construction Nigeria Limited signed a Deed of Debenture with Ecobank Nigeria PLC. To the uninitiated, a debenture is merely a technical word in commercial law.

    To those who understand its lethal implications, it is a document that can reach across borders, across years, and across jurisdictions to claim everything a company will ever earn. In this case, Zakhem pledged every asset it owned or would ever own anywhere in the world.

    Not just property and equipment, but all receivables. Every debt that any person, company, or government owed to Zakhem, anywhere on the planet, from that moment forward belonged first to Ecobank.

    The original debenture covered a facility of One Hundred Billion Naira. It was registered with the Nigerian Corporate Affairs Commission on 7th June 2006. For eight years, it sat dormant, a perfectly engineered legal instrument waiting for a sufficiently large target to emerge.

    The target arrived in July 2014. Kenya Pipeline Company, the strategic state corporation that moves petroleum products from the coast to the interior of Kenya, awarded Contract No. SU/QT/032N/13 to Zakhem International Construction Limited.

    The contract was for the construction, testing, and commissioning of Line 5, a 450-kilometre oil pipeline from Mombasa to Nairobi.

    The contract value was USD 484,502,886.40. At current exchange rates, that is approximately KES 62.9 billion. It was supposed to be Kenya’s infrastructure century project, a Vision 2030 flagship that would modernise fuel distribution and cement national energy security.

    Within two months of winning the KPC contract, Zakhem had secured a USD 300 million credit facility from Ecobank, using the KPC contract proceeds as its primary collateral.

    What followed was not the construction of a pipeline. What followed was the activation of the most sophisticated financial extraction mechanism ever deployed against a Kenyan public institution.

    THE 300 MILLION DOLLAR TRAP

    On 23rd September 2014, barely two months after winning the KPC contract, the board of directors of Zakhem International Construction Limited convened in Lagos, Nigeria. They approved a USD 300,000,000 credit facility from Ecobank Nigeria. That is three hundred million US dollars, approximately KES 39 billion at prevailing rates.

    The securities Zakhem provided to Ecobank for this facility are documented in court papers filed in Nairobi’s Commercial and Tax Division. They include an All Assets Debenture covering all of Zakhem’s fixed and floating, present and future assets. They include a Personal Guarantee from Albert Zakhem for the full facility amount, supported by a notarised statement of his net worth.

    They include Corporate Guarantees from Zakhem International S.A. dated 25th February 2005 and from the Kenyan entity dated 4th January 2014. They include 20 percent cash collateral for advance-payment guarantees and retention-money guarantees. And they include Letters of Domiciliation of the proceeds of the KPC contract to Ecobank’s accounts.

    It is this last item that is the engine of the entire scheme.

    The Letters of Domiciliation gave Ecobank a direct claim over the money that KPC owed Zakhem under the pipeline contract.

    Not a secondary claim. Not a claim that would crystallise after Zakhem defaulted. A direct, first-ranking claim on the contract proceeds, structured in such a way that Ecobank effectively became an invisible sub-party to a government contract it had never won, in a country where it bore no regulatory obligation and offered no value.

    Court documents filed in Nairobi reveal the precise terms of the facility.

    Ecobank is recorded as having financed the contract upto an amount of USD 206,433,676.80. Against this, the bank received from KPC the sum of USD 17,943,447.40 through its Nigerian operations and USD 8,899,960.00 through its Kenyan subsidiary.

    The combined recovery through both channels of USD 26,843,407.40 left a shortfall of approximately USD 52,785,027.27 that Ecobank would eventually pursue in Kenya’s Commercial Court.

    THE DOMICILIATION LETTERS: THE SMOKING ARCHITECTURE

    On 11th October 2014, less than three months after the KPC contract was signed, Zakhem sent two letters to KPC headquarters.

    The letters gave what court filings describe as unconditional and irrevocable instructions. Seventy percent of the entire contract value, seventy percent of USD 484 million, was to be paid directly into Zakhem’s account with Ecobank Nigeria. The remaining thirty percent was to go to Zakhem’s account with Ecobank Kenya.

    KPC confirmed receipt of these Domiciliation Letters on 13th October 2014, placing its dated stamp upon them.

    What KPC did not disclose, and what would form the centrepiece of litigation that continues to this day, is that these letters created a three-way financial obligation involving a Nigerian bank, a Cypriot holding company, a Nigerian construction entity, and a Kenyan state corporation, all bound together by a 2006 debenture that predated the KPC contract by eight years.

    KPC stamped the Domiciliation Letters on 13th October 2014. By doing so, it effectively invited a Nigerian bank into the most sensitive infrastructure contract in Kenya’s history without Treasury authorisation, without parliamentary oversight, and without public disclosure.

    Court filings in Civil Suit 292 of 2018 reveal that Ecobank issued bank guarantees on behalf of Zakhem totalling at least USD 39 million in four tranches between September 2015 and September 2016. These guarantees enabled Zakhem to access advance payments and retention payments under the KPC contract.

    The mechanism was elegant in its ruthlessness: Ecobank fronted the guarantees, KPC paid Zakhem, Zakhem was supposed to remit proceeds to Ecobank, and the debenture stood as the ultimate backstop.

    When Zakhem allegedly began diverting payments to accounts at Stanbic Bank rather than Ecobank, the entire structure collapsed into litigation. Kenya became the arena in which a Nigerian bank, a Cypriot holding company, and their Kenyan-registered fronts fought over the spoils of a state contract.

    What had been structured as a pipeline construction arrangement had, in reality, been structured as a foreign-controlled cash extraction mechanism from the moment the ink dried on the contract.

    THE MANDATE THAT WAS NEVER DISCLOSED

    A mandate letter dated 15th July 2015, obtained and reported by The Standard newspaper in its earlier investigation, reveals a fact of devastating significance.

    The official financing arrangement for the KPC pipeline project involved a consortium of six Kenyan and international banks: CFC Stanbic Bank, Citibank, Commercial Bank of Africa, Co-operative Bank of Kenya, Rand Merchant Bank, and Standard Chartered Bank. These six institutions agreed to provide USD 350 million in financing, split among them in defined proportions.

    The mandate letter, according to reporting by The Standard, specified explicitly that no other entities were to be involved as mandated lead arrangers, underwriters, or documentation agents, and that no additional compensation should be paid to any party not included in the original contract.

    Ecobank Nigeria was not in this consortium. Ecobank Kenya was not in this consortium. Neither Ecobank entity appears in any official KPC financing document publicly available. And yet, by virtue of the debenture signed in 2006 and the Domiciliation Letters signed in October 2014, Ecobank had engineered itself a senior claim over contract proceeds that ranked, in practical terms, ahead of anything KPC’s own legal advisers had contemplated.

    When KPC’s own annual reports spanning 2020 through 2023 were analysed, there is no mention of Ecobank Nigeria or Ecobank Kenya in connection with the financing of Line 5. The corporation that was a named defendant in a lawsuit demanding over USD 52 million had apparently not seen fit to disclose the existence of that lawsuit, or the financial arrangements that gave rise to it, in its annual reports for years.

    HCCC 292 OF 2018: THE LAWSUIT THAT BLED THE NATION

    In 2018, Ecobank Nigeria Limited and Ecobank Kenya Limited filed Civil Suit 292 of 2018 at the Commercial and Tax Division of the High Court of Kenya.

    The defendants were Zakhem International Construction Limited of Nigeria, Zakhem Construction Nigeria Limited, Zakhem International Construction Limited of Cyprus, Zakhem Construction (Kenya) Limited, and critically, Kenya Pipeline Company Limited.

    KPC, a state corporation owned entirely by Kenyan taxpayers, found itself a defendant in a foreign bank’s debt recovery action against a foreign construction company.

    KPC had not borrowed money from Ecobank. KPC had not guaranteed Zakhem’s facility with Ecobank. KPC’s exposure arose entirely from the Domiciliation Letters it had stamped in October 2014, by which it had given unconditional irrevocable instructions to pay contract proceeds to Ecobank’s accounts.

    When those instructions were subsequently honoured in part and diverted in part, Ecobank dragged KPC into court.

    KPC immediately retained legal representation, entering into an engagement agreement for KES 90,000,000 in legal fees with MMA Advocates LLP, according to a separate court case, MMA Advocates v Kenya Pipeline Company, filed as Civil Case E202 of 2020 at the High Court.

    Ninety million shillings in lawyers’ fees, paid by Kenyan taxpayers, to defend a state corporation from a lawsuit arising from its own decision to stamp letters it had apparently not fully understood.

    KPC paid KES 90 million in legal fees in 2019 alone to defend itself in the Ecobank suit, a suit that arose from KPC’s own decision to stamp the Domiciliation Letters in 2014.

    Justice Mary Kasango, presiding over the case in its early stages in July 2018, issued a freeze order on Zakhem’s bank accounts at CFC Stanbic and KCB banks while simultaneously stopping KPC from making any payments to Zakhem outside the terms of the Ecobank arrangement.

    The order lasted only six days before expiry, but its significance was profound.

    A Kenyan court had confirmed that there was a serious and arguable case that Zakhem’s contract proceeds were legally encumbered in favour of a Nigerian bank. The pipeline was finished; the accounting war had just begun.

    THE DCI LETTER THAT COST KENYANS KES 3 BILLION

    On 26th July 2019, the Directorate of Criminal Investigations wrote to KPC management directing the suspension of all payments to Zakhem pending investigation. It was, on its face, a legitimate exercise of investigative authority. In practice, it became one of the most expensive government letters in Kenyan history.

    The dispute over Zakhem’s Extension of Time claims had been referred to an independent expert scheduler, M/s Nyara, who assessed the four core claims and determined the payable amount at USD 44,019,024.64. Both Zakhem and KPC had reportedly agreed on this figure. The DCI letter halted payment at the precise moment the parties were closest to resolution.

    As a result of that halt, Zakhem initiated legal proceedings in the High Court in HCCC E322 of 2019, filed on 26th September 2019, seeking the full amount of USD 126,255,812.62 in unpaid sums. On 16th June 2020, the High Court issued a partial decree in Zakhem’s favour for USD 44,019,024.64. And because KPC had been directed by the DCI to stop paying, and had complied, Zakhem was now entitled to charge interest and penalties on the unpaid sum for every day it remained unpaid.

    According to Kenya Pipeline’s own audited accounts and a July 2024 report by Business Daily Africa, the penalties and interest that accrued as a result of the DCI-ordered payment halt amounted to KES 3,027,732,573, equivalent to over USD 23 million at the time of accrual. Auditor General Nancy Gathungu noted in KPC’s 2023 audit that the delay in payment was occasioned by the DCI directive, and that the resulting penalties and interest were entirely avoidable.

    A single letter from the DCI, suspending payments that both parties had agreed on, cost Kenyan taxpayers over KES 3 billion in avoidable penalties and interest.

    Three billion shillings. Gone. Not from a heist at gunpoint. Not from a cyber fraud. From a government directive, written by one arm of the state, destroying the carefully negotiated financial position of another arm of the state, in circumstances where no charges were ever filed and no person was ever convicted of any offence related to the original contract.

    THE ‘FULL AND FINAL’ SETTLEMENT THAT WAS NEITHER

    In September 2023, KPC and Zakhem signed what was recorded as a consent judgment in HCCC E322 of 2019. The consent judgment fixed the total amount owed by KPC to Zakhem at USD 69,684,238.46, comprising USD 48,140,000 in principal and USD 21,544,238.46 in interest at six percent.

    Business Daily Africa, reporting on KPC’s 2024 annual accounts, confirmed that KPC had treated this as a final settlement, describing it as the resolution of a long legal dispute with one of its contractors.

    It was not final. It was not even a pause.

    Within months of the consent judgment, Zakhem was back in court. Senior Counsel Ahmednasir Abdullahi, appearing for Zakhem, filed applications seeking to freeze KPC’s bank accounts at Standard Chartered Bank over an alleged remaining debt of Sh926 million.

    The application was dismissed by Justice Josephine Mongare on 29th May 2025, on the grounds that Zakhem was raising the same arguments and tabulations it had already made before a court of concurrent jurisdiction, which the law does not permit. But Zakhem immediately regrouped.

    In June 2025, Zakhem filed fresh garnishee applications against KPC’s accounts at Equity Bank, Stanbic, KCB, NCBA, Citibank, Co-operative Bank, and Absa Bank. This time, Justice Mongare allowed the application in respect of the Equity Bank account, issuing a Garnishee Order Absolute directing Equity Bank to pay Zakhem KES 485,000,000 from KPC’s accounts. The money was to be remitted directly to the bank account of Ahmednasir Abdullahi Advocates LLP at UBA Kenya Bank Limited, Upperhill Branch, account number 55030160006446.

    So the money passed through not just from a state corporation to a foreign construction company but through the trust account of one of Kenya’s most politically connected and publicly controversial lawyers.

    Court records confirm the transfer was executed. Equity Bank complied. KES 485 million left KPC’s accounts and entered a law firm’s trust account.

    THE KRA DIMENSION: TAXING THE EXTRACTED

    Amid the cascade of claims and counter-claims, the Kenya Revenue Authority inserted itself into the money flow in a manner that further complicated and multiplied KPC’s exposure. Following the 2020 partial decree in favour of Zakhem, KRA issued agency notices demanding tax from Zakhem. Because the money was to flow through KPC’s accounts, KPC found itself obligated to withhold and remit significant amounts to KRA before releasing the balance to Zakhem.

    Court records show that KPC paid KRA KES 3,099,971,539 in October 2020 and a further KES 915,316,830 in January 2021, totalling over KES 4 billion in tax deductions from the Zakhem decree. Zakhem subsequently obtained letters from the National Treasury dated November 2022 and February 2023 confirming that all penalties and interest on its tax liabilities had been waived.

    Justice Mongare, in her June 2025 ruling, found that KPC’s additional payments to KRA beyond the ordered amounts were at KPC’s own risk and could not extinguish its obligation to Zakhem, effectively ruling that KPC had overpaid KRA and was still indebted to Zakhem for the balance.

    By this arithmetic, KPC paid the contractor. KPC paid the taxman. The taxman gave the contractor a waiver. The court told KPC it still owed the contractor more. And then the contractor refused to pay its own subcontractors.

    THE SUBCONTRACTORS LEFT TO DIE

    While billions flowed from KPC to Ecobank and from KPC to Zakhem and from Zakhem’s court-ordered recoveries into lawyers’ trust accounts, the Kenyan companies that physically built this pipeline were left destitute.

    Azicon Kenya Limited was engaged by Zakhem to carry out electrical, instrumentation, and telecommunications installation works under a subcontract valued at approximately KES 1.3 billion. The firm completed its works, obtained certification for the installations, and was paid approximately KES 840 million, leaving a balance exceeding KES 460 million that has remained outstanding since 2020. The firm obtained a court decree ordering Zakhem to pay the amount. The decree has not been honoured.

    In January 2025, Azicon served Zakhem with an insolvency statutory demand. Twenty-one days elapsed. Nothing was paid. Azicon then filed an insolvency petition at the High Court seeking to liquidate Zakhem International. In court documents filed in this proceeding, Azicon’s lawyer Collins Taliti alleged that Zakhem was actively scheming to avoid payment by incorporating new companies, including Mokowe Traders Limited and Bangal Marina Resorts Limited, to conceal assets and defeat enforcement. When Azicon attempted to attach Zakhem’s bank accounts at Stanbic Bank, they found a balance of KES 393,000. A company that had extracted over KES 9 billion from a government contract had KES 393,000 in its main banking account.

    As of July 2025, when Zakhem received KES 485 million from KPC through the Equity Bank garnishee order, Azicon immediately moved to court demanding that the directors of Zakhem be jailed for contempt of court.

    The directors in question, Ibrahim Salim Zakhem and Abdallah Salim Zakhem, the latter being the Honorary Consul of Lebanon in Nairobi, were summoned to appear before the court to explain why the decree had not been paid. Abdallah Zakhem is not just a contractor. He is a diplomat. He holds honorary consular status. He appears at official functions. His company has extracted billions from Kenyan taxpayers, left Kenyan subcontractors unpaid, and his family enjoys the protections of diplomatic courtesy while Kenya’s courts scramble to enforce their own orders.

    Multiple ICD (Kenya) Limited pursued a separate claim against Zakhem for USD 3,286,590. They obtained a court order freezing KPC’s bank accounts in connection with this debt, arguing that KPC and Zakhem had conspired to defeat justice by refusing to release funds. The order was eventually lifted.

    Oil Fields Engineering and Supplies Limited obtained a Mareva injunction in August 2023 restraining KPC from paying any further funds to Zakhem, an order that froze USD 31.3 million. Quality Inspectors obtained an arbitration award and found collection nearly impossible.

    Zakhem extracted over KES 9 billion from a government contract. Its main Stanbic Bank account held KES 393,000 when creditors came looking. This is not insolvency. This is engineered invisibility.

    THE JUDICIAL BATTLEFIELD: CASES, RECUSALS, AND THE CAROUSEL OF CLAIMS

    No honest account of this scandal can avoid grappling with the sheer scale of the judicial manipulation that has accompanied it. The cases in which Zakhem, Ecobank, KPC, and their related parties have appeared include HCCC No. 292 of 2018, HCCC E322 of 2019, HCC Misc E042 of 2021, HCCC E276 of 2019, Civil Case E132 of 2020, Civil Case E202 of 2020, Misc Civil Application E1215 of 2020, HCCC Misc E329, E330, and E331 of 2022, Civil Application E503 of 2024, Civil Application E420 of 2024, Civil Application E436 of 2023, Miscellaneous Application E395 of 2025, Miscellaneous Application E590 of 2025, and Petition E021 of 2024. That is not a list of different legal disputes. That is a matrix of interconnected applications, stay orders, garnishees, recusals, appeals, arbitrations, and counter-applications, all circling the same KES 62.9 billion pipeline contract like vultures over a carcass.

    The recusal attempts alone are staggering in their audacity. Ahmednasir Abdullahi filed an application demanding that Justice P.J. Otieno recuse himself from hearing the Oil Fields case on grounds of alleged partiality and bias.

    The Court of Appeal was drawn into this recusal fight in Civil Application E503 of 2024, where it noted that questions of partiality had been raised even before a substantive order was granted, and that the integrity of the process itself had been called into question.

    Justice Otieno refused recusal on 8th August 2024, observing that abandoning the case after substantive judicial resources had been invested would perpetuate the very delays that litigation abuse had created. Meanwhile, the DCI was ordered to investigate whether Professor Tom Ojienda, acting for Oil Fields, had allegedly approached Justice Otieno to tilt the scales in his client’s favour. The investigation report, if it exists, has not been made public.

    The Legal fees claim by LJA Associates LLP, the firm that had previously represented various Zakhem entities and then fell into a dispute with them, was taxed at KES 279,792,000. That is two hundred and seventy-nine million shillings in legal fees claimed for work done in a single matter.

    Lady Justice Mshila ruled in July 2023 that Ahmednasir Abdullahi Advocates LLP, which had come on record to replace LJA Associates, could only do so if it paid these fees into an escrow account.

    The resulting dispute between the two law firms over who gets paid what, out of money that is itself the product of a dubious extraction from a state corporation, has spawned its own litigation in CA No. 134 of 2023.

    Each court application, each appeal, each recusal attempt, each garnishee proceeding represents not just a legal strategy but a financial extraction in itself. Court fees, advocate fees, process server fees, and the time cost of senior state officials defending KPC in matters they cannot explain to auditors or to Parliament.

    JOE SANG: THE MAN AT THE CENTRE OF EVERY STORM

    No name appears more consistently at the intersection of the Zakhem-Ecobank scandal and Kenya’s broader energy sector dysfunction than Joe Sang. His career at Kenya Pipeline Company is a biographical mirror of the corporation’s descent into institutional crisis.

    Sang was first appointed Managing Director of KPC in April 2016. During his first tenure, the Zakhem contract was in active execution. The Domiciliation Letters instructing KPC to pay 70 percent of contract proceeds to Ecobank had already been stamped.

    The disputes over Extension of Time claims were escalating. The Ecobank lawsuit that would be filed in 2018 was being prepared. In December 2018, Sang was arrested alongside other senior KPC officials over the Sh1.9 billion Kisumu Oil Jetty project, charged with abuse of office and engaging in a project without prior planning. He resigned.

    In December 2022, Sang and his co-accused were acquitted. A magistrate ruled that the prosecution’s case lacked merit and that the project had been properly planned. The Law Society of Kenya challenged his subsequent reappointment to KPC in January 2023 and formal reinstatement in April 2023 on grounds that it bypassed merit-based constitutional competition procedures. The challenge was unsuccessful.

    During Sang’s second tenure, the consent judgment with Zakhem was signed in September 2023. As KPC’s own annual report for that year obliquely noted, a major reason for the KES 2.85 billion decline in the corporation’s cash reserves was the settlement of a long legal dispute with one of its contractors.

    That contractor was Zakhem. The settlement Sang’s management signed was the one that was supposed to be full and final. Seventeen months later, Zakhem was back in court seeking hundreds of millions more.

    On 2nd April 2026, Sang was arrested by the DCI, along with Petroleum Principal Secretary Mohamed Liban and EPRA Director General Daniel Kiptoo Bargoria, over allegations that they had manipulated fuel stock data to fabricate a shortage and justify the irregular emergency procurement of a KES 4 billion fuel shipment outside the Government-to-Government framework.

    The shipment, carried by the vessel MV Paloma, docked between 27th and 29th March 2026 and is alleged to have been sourced from Saudi Aramco before being resold through international intermediaries at prices well above contracted rates. Investigators have suggested that the total loss to the public could reach KES 8 billion when a second related shipment is factored in. Sang resigned on 4th April 2026. He has not publicly addressed the Zakhem-Ecobank dimension of his time at KPC.

    Joe Sang was KPC’s Managing Director when the Domiciliation Letters were confirmed, when the DCI halt letter was issued, when the consent judgment was signed, and when the fuel manipulation scheme allegedly ran. He must now account for all of it.

    THE PATTERN OF KPC: AN INSTITUTION DESIGNED TO BE LOOTED

    The Zakhem-Ecobank affair does not exist in isolation. It is the latest chapter in a documented pattern of systematic extraction from Kenya Pipeline Company that stretches back two decades.

    In 2009, the Triton Oil Scandal saw corrupt KPC staff exploit a new computer system to steal 126 million litres of petroleum products valued at KES 7.6 billion. It remains one of the largest corporate frauds in Kenya’s history. The Managing Director was dismissed. No comprehensive recovery was ever achieved.

    In 2013 and 2014, KPC purchased 60 hydrant pit valves for JKIA at a cost of KES 647 million, pricing each valve at approximately KES 10 million when the market price was KES 1.5 million. In January 2025, four individuals were convicted over this procurement fraud. They received non-custodial sentences. Fines instead of prison. The message was clear: loot KPC, pay a small fine, walk free.

    In 2016 and 2017, the Kisumu Oil Jetty project saw KES 1.9 billion spent on infrastructure that prosecutors alleged was improperly planned. Joe Sang was charged. He was acquitted in 2022. The money does not appear to have been recovered.

    Now in April 2026, the fuel data manipulation scandal has cost the country at least KES 4 billion and potentially KES 8 billion in a single fraudulent procurement cycle. And all the while, the Zakhem machine has been running in the background, extracting tens of billions through court orders and consent judgments and garnishee proceedings, using Kenya’s commercial courts as a factory for the transfer of public wealth to foreign interests.

    The cumulative financial exposure from the Zakhem contract alone now exceeds KES 78 billion when all claims, settlements, penalties, interest, and legal costs are aggregated. This from a contract originally worth KES 62.9 billion. The contractor has extracted more than the original contract value. And the claims continue.

    THE FINANCIAL RECKONING: WHAT HAS KENYA LOST

    THE MONEY TRAIL: DOCUMENTED FINANCIAL EXPOSURE

    Original KPC Contract Value: USD 484,502,886 (KES 62.9 billion)  July 2014

    Ecobank Facility Extended to Zakhem: USD 300,000,000 (KES 39 billion)  September 2014

    Ecobank Claim in HCCC 292/2018: USD 52,785,027 (KES 6.8 billion)  Amount in arrears

    Partial Decree, June 2020: USD 44,019,024 (KES 5.7 billion)  HCCC E322/2019

    Consent Judgment, September 2023: USD 69,684,238 (KES 9 billion)  Inc. interest at 6%

    KRA Tax Payments by KPC: KES 4,015,288,369  October 2020 and January 2021

    Avoidable Penalties from DCI Halt: KES 3,027,732,573 (KES 3 billion)  Auditor General confirmed

    KPC Cash Reserve Decline, FY 2024: KES 2,850,000,000 (KES 2.85 billion)  Zakhem-linked payments

    Garnishee Order, June 2025: KES 485,000,000  Equity Bank, paid to Ahmednasir LLP trust

    LJA Associates Legal Fees Taxed: KES 279,792,000  In escrow dispute

    Azicon Kenya Unpaid Decree: KES 460,000,000+ Subcontractor, unpaid since 2020

    TOTAL DOCUMENTED EXPOSURE EXCEEDS KES 78 BILLION. NEW CLAIMS REMAIN PENDING.

    THE CRIMINAL QUESTION

    The evidence assembled from court files, audited financial statements, parliamentary records, and media investigations raises questions that the Director of Public Prosecutions and the Directorate of Criminal Investigations cannot continue to ignore.

    The 2006 debenture registered in Nigeria and the 2014 Domiciliation Letters signed in Kenya together created a mechanism by which Kenyan public contract proceeds were pledged as collateral for a foreign private bank loan without Treasury approval, without parliamentary sanction, and without the knowledge of the Kenyan public. Whether the legal instruments themselves constitute fraud under Section 318 of the Penal Code or obtaining by false pretences under Section 313 turns on facts that only a properly resourced forensic investigation can establish. But the question must be asked and it must be answered.

    The signing of a consent judgment described as full and final in September 2023 and the subsequent filing of fresh claims on the same contract in 2025 raises the question of whether a conspiracy to defraud under Section 317 of the Penal Code was engaged. The consistent pattern of filing multiple overlapping applications across different case numbers, obtaining interim freeze orders on KPC accounts, causing operational disruption to a national infrastructure operator, and then negotiating settlements that are immediately relitigated, constitutes, at minimum, potential abuse of court process and at maximum, a coordinated scheme to extract public funds through judicial mechanisms.

    The routing of Kenyan public contract proceeds through Nigerian bank accounts, Cypriot holding companies, and ultimately through a chain of corporate entities whose beneficial ownership structure has never been made transparent to Kenyan authorities raises serious questions under the Proceeds of Crime and Anti-Money Laundering Act, 2009. Money laundering does not require that the underlying transaction be a robbery. It requires only that the movement of money be structured to obscure its origin or ultimate destination. The debenture-domiciliation structure described in this report does precisely that.

    Finally, KPC’s failure to disclose in its annual reports the existence of the Ecobank lawsuit, the domiciliation letters, the foreign debenture structure, and the quantum of financial exposure from the Zakhem contract over a period of years raises questions about whether directors and management breached their fiduciary duties under the State Corporations Act and the Companies Act.

    WHAT MUST NOW HAPPEN

    The DCI has demonstrated in April 2026 that it can move swiftly when the political will exists. Petroleum PS Mohamed Liban, KPC Managing Director Joe Sang, and EPRA Director General Daniel Kiptoo Bargoria were arrested within hours of the President’s public signal. Their resignations followed within two days. The state can act when it chooses to.

    The question is whether this same resolve will be applied to a scheme of far greater financial magnitude and far longer duration. The Zakhem-Ecobank extraction has been running since at least 2014. It has already cost the public, by the most conservative accounting, more than KES 20 billion in unnecessary payments, avoidable penalties, legal fees, and financial drain on a state corporation. By a comprehensive accounting, the exposure exceeds KES 78 billion.

    The DPP Renson Ingonga and DCI Director Mohamed Amin must initiate a full forensic investigation into the debenture signed in Lagos in 2006, the credit facility extended in September 2014, the Domiciliation Letters stamped by KPC in October 2014, the banking records of all relevant entities at Ecobank Nigeria, Ecobank Kenya, Stanbic Bank, and any other institution that processed contract proceeds, the settlement of September 2023 and the persons who negotiated it on KPC’s behalf, and the source and destination of the USD 485 million disbursed through Equity Bank in June 2025 and remitted to a law firm trust account.

    Travel bans and asset freezes must be considered for the principals of Zakhem International, foreign nationals who have demonstrated the capacity and willingness to move money offshore and to place assets out of reach of creditors and courts. Abdallah Zakhem holds honorary consular status in Kenya. That status does not confer immunity from criminal process. It does, however, make early action essential before documents, assets, and persons disappear.

    Joe Sang must be questioned comprehensively, not just about the fuel scandal for which he has already been arrested, but about the entire Zakhem affair from 2016 to 2026. He was the Managing Director when the DCI halt letter was issued. He was the Managing Director when the consent judgment was signed. He was the MD when fresh claims were filed on a supposedly settled contract. He must account for all of it.

    The Law Society of Kenya must investigate whether advocates who signed full and final settlements and subsequently filed fresh claims on the same contracts, or who facilitated the legal architecture of the domiciliation scheme, committed professional misconduct within the meaning of the Advocates Act.

    Parliament’s Public Investments Committee, which four years ago threatened to issue arrest warrants for Ibrahim Zakhem when he ignored its summons, must reconvene. The full financial exposure of KPC from this contract must be tabled before the National Assembly and Senate. Kenyans must know how much was paid, to whom, on whose authority, and what, if anything, remains to be paid.

    The pending Fast Track case filed by Zakhem in January 2026 seeking a further USD 6,029,388.94 must be stayed pending the outcome of criminal investigations. If judgment is entered before investigations are complete, Kenya will have no legal basis to resist further enforcement. The courts have been weaponised long enough. They must now serve justice.

    THIS IS KENYA’S MONEY. IT MUST COME BACK.

    The ordinary Kenyan who fills their vehicle at a petrol station pays a fuel levy that flows in part to KPC. The businessperson who depends on timely petroleum delivery pays when KPC is financially hamstrung by runaway litigation. The citizen who believes in an independent judiciary sees that institution exploited as a cash machine for interests that have never paid a tax in this country, never built anything that was not already paid for, and have left not one genuine legacy in this land except a pipeline that leaks, a string of lawsuits that never end, and a balance sheet that bleeds.

  • Poison at the Pump: How Kenya’s Fuel Marking System May Be Exposing Millions to Cancer-Causing Chemicals

    Poison at the Pump: How Kenya’s Fuel Marking System May Be Exposing Millions to Cancer-Causing Chemicals

    Every morning, across the length and breadth of Kenya, tens of millions of citizens queue at fuel stations from Moyale to Mombasa, Kisumu to Garissa, and fill their vehicles, matatus, bodas, generators, and cooking stoves. They have been told, repeatedly, by the Energy and Petroleum Regulatory Authority, that the fuel flowing from those pumps is protected by a sophisticated biochemical marking system. What they have never been told is what, precisely, is in that marker — or what it becomes when it burns.

    A bombshell legal notice filed on March 31, 2026 by the Consumers Federation of Kenya (COFEK) to EPRA Director General Daniel Kiptoo Bargoria now alleges that the answer to both questions may be deeply alarming. According to the notice, the fuel marking system — administered in Kenya by Swiss corporation SICPA SA under a contract worth Sh2.35 billion — is suspected of releasing brominated compounds into petroleum products, compounds that the federation characterises as posing cancer risks to every Kenyan who breathes exhaust fumes or handles fuel.

    The timing of the allegation is extraordinary. Even as COFEK’s letter was wending its way through EPRA’s official channels, DCI detectives were moving in the opposite direction — arresting Daniel Kiptoo himself, alongside Petroleum Principal Secretary Mohamed Liban and Kenya Pipeline Company Managing Director Joe Sang, over a separate but equally alarming scandal: the alleged importation of substandard, high-sulphur fuel that fell outside Kenya’s own regulatory specifications. The men spent Thursday night, April 3, 2026, in police custody at Gigiri Police Station.

    In the space of four days, Kenya’s entire petroleum governance architecture has been called into question from two directions at once — the quality of the fuel entering the country, and the safety of the chemicals used to mark it. Together, the crises constitute what may be the most serious challenge to the integrity of Kenya’s fuel supply chain in recent memory.

    “Every motorist, every hawker, every schoolchild breathing roadside air in Nairobi is an unwitting participant in this experiment.” — COFEK formal notice, March 31, 2026

    THE COFEK BOMBSHELL

    The Consumers Federation of Kenya is not, by nature, a sensationalist organisation. Operating under the Consumer Protection Act 2012 and anchored in Article 46 of the Constitution of Kenya — which guarantees the right to goods and services of reasonable quality — it has, over the years, built a reputation for measured, legally grounded interventions. Its letter of March 31, 2026 is therefore remarkable not only for what it alleges, but for the deliberateness with which it is constructed.

    Addressed to EPRA Director General Daniel Kiptoo Bargoria and copied to the Head of Public Service, Cabinet Secretary for Energy Opiyo Wandayi, the Attorney General, the Auditor-General, the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission, and the Director of Public Prosecutions, the letter states that COFEK has spent at least three months reviewing whistleblower reports, documented complaints, and technical literature pointing to risks arising from the Fuel Integrity Solution. Its central contention: that the biochemical markers injected into petroleum products at the point of entry may generate brominated compounds during combustion, and that those compounds are potential carcinogens.

    The federation explicitly names SICPA SA, the Swiss firm EPRA contracted to implement the Fuel Integrity Solution, as the vendor at the centre of its concern. The letter demands immediate and verifiable regulatory action and constitutes, in its own words, unequivocal notice of COFEK’s intention to commence legal proceedings should EPRA fail to respond adequately. A social media post accompanying the notice reveals that COFEK has already dispatched fuel samples to an independent laboratory in the United States, with results awaited.

    EPRA had issued no formal public response to the letter as of publication date.

    THE SCIENCE OF THE ALLEGATION

    To understand what COFEK is alleging, it is necessary to understand what bromine chemistry in a combustion context actually means. The SICPA Fuel Integrity Solution works by injecting a patented biochemical tracer — whose precise molecular composition is proprietary and undisclosed — into petroleum at the point of entry or distribution. EPRA and SICPA have consistently described this marker as non-toxic and stable. The question COFEK is now forcing into the open is what happens to that marker under the conditions of an internal combustion engine, burning at temperatures that can exceed 600 degrees Celsius.

    The scientific literature on brominated compounds in combustion environments is not reassuring. Research published across multiple peer-reviewed journals has established that when organic compounds containing bromine are subjected to high-temperature combustion, they can generate brominated polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons — a class of chemicals whose toxic equivalency has been compared, in some environmental matrices, to dioxins. Separately, a 2021 review in the journal Environmental Science and Technology found that certain brominated flame retardants, which share structural properties with many organic bromine compounds, act as endocrine disruptors, with studies in humans and animals suggesting correlations with thyroid disorders, neurodevelopmental damage, reproductive harm, and oncological disease.

    The critical scientific distinction — and the one that regulators will be forced to address — is between the chemical marker in its injected state, which SICPA claims is harmless, and what that marker’s constituent compounds may become upon thermal decomposition inside a vehicle engine. These are two entirely different chemical questions, and it is the second one that the available public documentation on the SICPA system appears never to have addressed publicly.

    Without knowing the precise molecular structure of the SICPA marker, it is not possible to make definitive assessments of combustion by-products. COFEK’s decision to dispatch samples for independent analysis in the United States is, in this context, a rational evidential strategy. The results, when they arrive, will either validate or undermine the federation’s central allegation.

    “What burns in your engine is not necessarily what was injected at the depot. The chemistry of combustion transforms compounds — sometimes into something far more dangerous.” — Public health researcher, speaking to Kenya Insights

    THE SWISS COMPANY WITH A BRIBERY PAST

    SICPA SA is headquartered in Lausanne, Switzerland, and describes itself as a global leader in secure traceability and authentication technologies. It has been active in Kenya since 2013, initially through its Excisable Goods Management System for the Kenya Revenue Authority, covering security stamps on tobacco and alcohol products. The company marks over 60 billion litres of fuel annually across multiple continents.

    In April 2023, however, SICPA’s global reputation sustained a significant blow. The Office of the Attorney General of Switzerland issued a penalty order finding the company criminally liable for failing to take all necessary and reasonable organisational precautions to prevent its employees from bribing foreign public officials. The order related to bribery of high-ranking officials in the Colombian and Venezuelan markets between 2009 and 2011. SICPA was ordered to pay CHF 81 million — comprising a CHF 1 million fine and an CHF 80 million compensation claim based on profits from the relevant period. A former sales manager was handed a conditional prison sentence of 170 days.

    The Swiss OAG’s findings identified organisational deficiencies in SICPA’s corporate governance, risk management, and compliance processes as having made the bribery possible. Investigations into SICPA’s conduct were reportedly also ongoing, at various stages, in Egypt, India, Kazakhstan, Pakistan, Senegal, Vietnam, and Ukraine at the time of the Swiss conviction. The company has since obtained ISO 37001 anti-bribery certification and says it will not appeal the Swiss order.

    The bribery history takes on added weight in the Kenyan context because of how SICPA obtained its EPRA contract in the first place. Business Daily investigations published in August 2024 revealed that the fuel marking tender awarded to SICPA was worth Sh2.35 billion — more than three times the Sh694 million that competing firms Intertek Testing Services and Authentix had offered to do the same job. The tender was cancelled in December 2021 on the instruction of then-Interior Principal Secretary Karanja Kibicho, who directed EPRA’s Daniel Kiptoo to abandon the competitive process and award the contract to SICPA through a specially permitted procurement procedure.

    Kenya’s Auditor-General Nancy Gathungu subsequently flagged the deal as having no justification for single-sourcing, arguing that taxpayers could not realise value for money. The Public Procurement and Regulatory Authority told Business Daily it had not been consulted on the cancellation. More damaging still, the Auditor-General found no evidence that the SICPA system had even been fully implemented nine months after the contract kicked off in 2023.

    It is against this background — an overpriced, single-sourced contract pushed through by a political directive and whose vendor carries a bribery conviction — that COFEK’s health allegations must be assessed. The story of Kenya’s fuel marking programme is not simply a technical question. It is a procurement scandal with a potential public health dimension.

    THE FUEL SECTOR IN FREEFALL

    The COFEK allegations do not arrive in isolation. Kenya’s petroleum sector is, as of this week, experiencing what amounts to a systemic governance crisis on multiple simultaneous fronts.

    On Thursday night, April 3, 2026, DCI detectives from the Operations Support Unit conducted a coordinated operation, picking up Petroleum Principal Secretary Mohamed Liban, EPRA Director General Daniel Kiptoo, and Kenya Pipeline Company Managing Director Joe Sang. A fourth official, identified as Simon Wafula, was also detained. Their homes were searched and unspecified cash and documents recovered. Capital FM reported that the fuel at the centre of the investigation is suspected to have elevated sulphur levels, rendering it non-compliant with Kenya’s petroleum specifications.

    Sources familiar with the investigation told this publication that a KPC quality assurance manager had raised concerns after testing the consignment and declined to authorise its discharge, escalating the matter through internal channels before investigators were alerted. The fuel in question was linked to the government-to-government import arrangement launched in 2023 with Gulf suppliers including Saudi Aramco, ADNOC, and ENOC under a 180-day credit facility. The G2G deal, praised for stabilising supply amid foreign exchange pressures, now stands at the centre of a criminal probe.

    The arrests come as Kenya grapples with a broader fuel supply anxiety driven by the ongoing conflict in the Middle East, which has pushed Brent crude prices sharply upward and complicated the country’s import logistics. Government Spokesperson Isaac Mwaura confirmed on April 4 that Kenya’s April fuel consignment had been secured, but the arrests of the very officials responsible for guaranteeing fuel quality have done nothing to steady public confidence.

    Separately, over a period stretching back through 2025, EPRA has itself been conducting enforcement sweeps of petrol stations across the country, flagging outlets selling diesel blended with kerosene. The regulator’s own biannual statistics report noted that 23 stations were found non-compliant out of 10,598 samples collected from 2,305 outlets during the review period — a 99 per cent compliance rate that is now being held up for scrutiny in light of the arrested officials who presided over the very enforcement regime that generated those numbers.

    The arrests of the Petroleum PS, EPRA Director General, and KPC Managing Director in a single night represents an unprecedented collapse of faith in Kenya’s fuel governance infrastructure.

    WHAT THE REGULATOR HAS NOT SAID

    EPRA has, over the years, mounted a vigorous public defence of the SICPA Fuel Integrity Solution. In promotional materials and official commentary, the authority has described the biochemical marker as patented, non-toxic, and stable. It has cited the programme’s World Bank and IMF recognition for improving fiscal governance. It has pointed to a compliance rate of 98.67 per cent across nearly 6,000 petroleum sites as evidence of the system’s effectiveness. What EPRA has never done, in any publicly accessible document reviewed by Kenya Insights, is publish the chemical composition of the marker, commission or release an independent toxicological assessment of its combustion by-products, or subject the health claims around the system to external peer review.

    This opacity is precisely what COFEK is now demanding be ended. The federation’s legal notice asks EPRA to produce, among other things, a comprehensive scientific disclosure of the marker’s chemical constituents, an independent health impact assessment covering both direct handling and inhalation of exhaust emissions from marked fuel, and a regulatory framework that would require ongoing monitoring of consumer exposure. These are, on their face, demands that any regulatory authority operating in good faith should be able to accommodate — unless the answers to those questions are themselves unwelcome.

    Cabinet Secretary for Energy Opiyo Wandayi, who was copied on COFEK’s letter, is the political head of a ministry whose top bureaucrat is now in police custody and whose regulatory arm faces a landmark public health complaint. His response — or the absence of one — will be a defining moment for the administration’s handling of the crisis.

    THE CONSTITUTIONAL DIMENSION

    COFEK grounds its intervention explicitly in Article 46 of the Constitution of Kenya, which establishes that consumers have the right to goods and services of reasonable quality, the right to information necessary for them to gain full benefit from goods and services, and the right to compensation for loss or injury arising from defects in goods or services. Article 42 further establishes the right to a clean and healthy environment.

    If laboratory results from the American testing facility confirm the presence of toxic combustion by-products from the SICPA marker, the constitutional implications are substantial. Kenya would face the prospect of a class-action type constitutional petition on behalf of millions of consumers who have, without knowledge or consent, been exposed to potentially hazardous chemical compounds with every tank of fuel they have purchased. Section 6 of the Consumer Protection Act 2012, which COFEK also invokes, creates strict liability obligations for suppliers of defective goods — a category that, if the allegation is proven, could encompass every Oil Marketing Company that has handled marked fuel.

    The legal proceedings that COFEK has threatened to initiate, should EPRA fail to act, would likely name the authority as a respondent for regulatory failure, and potentially SICPA as a second respondent for the deployment of a product with undisclosed hazardous properties. The Attorney General, who was copied on the notice, would be required to advise on the Crown’s liability exposure.

    The immediate timeline is driven by two sets of results. The first is from the DCI investigation into substandard fuel imports, which investigators say will expand to encompass other officials within the petroleum supply chain. The second is from COFEK’s American laboratory, whose findings on the chemical composition and combustion by-products of the SICPA marker will either validate the federation’s allegations or force it to recalibrate its legal strategy.

    EPRA, in the meantime, is effectively headless. Its Director General is in police custody. Its most recent public posture on the SICPA system — confident, promotional, data-rich — is now being held against it. The authority faces the prospect of having to respond simultaneously to a criminal investigation over one set of fuel quality failures and a constitutional complaint over the safety of the very system it has deployed to prevent them.

    SICPA SA, reached for comment through its global communications channels, had not responded to Kenya Insights queries by the time of publication. The company has previously maintained that its fuel marking technologies are globally recognised and non-toxic.

    For the millions of Kenyans who fill up at the pump each day, the questions being raised this week are not abstract. They are breathed in with every kilometre driven on marked fuel, absorbed with every spilled litre at a filling station forecourt, and inhaled with every puff of exhaust from the matatu that carries them to work. They deserve answers — and they deserve them now.

    NB: This investigation is based on COFEK’s official legal notice of March 31, 2026; publicly available procurement records and audit findings relating to the SICPA-EPRA contract; the Swiss Attorney General’s 2023 penalty order against SICPA SA; peer-reviewed scientific literature on brominated compound toxicology; and independently sourced reporting on the April 3, 2026 DCI arrests. COFEK’s health allegations remain unproven pending independent laboratory verification. SICPA denies that its markers pose any health risk. The DCI investigation is ongoing and no charges have been formally filed. EPRA, SICPA, and the Office of the Cabinet Secretary for Energy had not responded to Kenya Insights queries at time of publication.

  • Inside Nyayo House: The Kitchen Cartel That Demands Sh100,000 for a Stove

    Inside Nyayo House: The Kitchen Cartel That Demands Sh100,000 for a Stove

    Nairobi, Kenya. It is barely 7 a.m. on a weekday morning and the 27-floor tower at the corner of Uhuru Highway and Kenyatta Avenue is already thick with the familiar desperation of ordinary Kenyans queuing for government services.

    But beyond the immigration lines and the national registration counters, deeper inside the cavernous geometry of Nyayo House, a different kind of transaction has been quietly conducted for years, one that has nothing to do with passports and everything to do with power.

    A female insider who operates from within the building has come forward with detailed allegations of an entrenched extortion syndicate, in which caretakers and security personnel allegedly demand colossal bribes from vendors seeking to secure kitchen spaces on the premises.

    She told Kenya Insights that she personally paid Sh100,000 to obtain the cooking space from which she currently operates, money she says she had no choice but to raise.

    “I had no option. They made it clear that without paying, I would never get the space. It is something that has been normalised here.”

    The woman, who requested anonymity citing fear of reprisals from individuals she describes as well-connected and capable of ending her livelihood overnight, is not alone.

    Multiple sources within the building corroborate the broad architecture of the scheme, describing a cartel that has effectively privatised access to commercial space inside a public government facility and runs its illicit revenues through a web of mobile money accounts designed to frustrate any paper trail.

    FLOOR BY FLOOR: THE CARTEL’S TERRITORIAL MAP

    What emerges from weeks of interviews and cross-corroborated accounts is not a disorganised shakedown but a territorially sophisticated operation, with named individuals allegedly controlling specific floors of the building.

    The 16th floor is reportedly managed by a woman identified only as Milly, who is said to maintain a close operational relationship with an Administration Police Reserve Sergeant Major identified as Dalba.

    That pairing, according to insiders, fuses financial leverage with physical coercion, creating a structure that is difficult for a prospective vendor to challenge or circumvent.

    On the 15th floor, a figure known as Dorrys is alleged to control allocation. Makena is said to hold sway on the 14th floor, while Eliza is mentioned in connection with the 7th floor.

    The pattern repeats across other floors, with sources suggesting the network also implicates immigration department caretakers Oonje and Mugambi, another caretaker identified as Wanjala, and a Deputy County Commissioner whose office sits within the building’s administrative hierarchy.

    Kenya Insights was unable to independently verify all the names at the time of publication and has extended requests for comment to the relevant authorities.

    Sources allege that the individuals entrenched at each floor do not merely collect entry fees. They are said to determine who stays, who is expelled, and at what cost a vendor may remain in operation, creating a perpetual revenue stream sustained through the threat of eviction.

    “This is not an isolated case. There is a well-established network that controls who gets what space, and it operates with impunity. The same individuals have entrenched themselves and continue to exploit applicants.”

    M-PESA LINES AND THE ARCHITECTURE OF CONCEALMENT

    The alleged cartel has reportedly adapted with sophistication to Kenya’s mobile money infrastructure.

    Rather than collecting bribes in cash, sources claim that specific Safaricom M-Pesa lines linked to named individuals within the network are used to receive payments, a technique that replicates patterns investigators have previously documented in other sectors of Kenya’s public service.

    The KRA bribery scandal, prosecuted in the courts in late 2025, revealed how government officers disguised corrupt payments through M-Pesa as soft loans and merry-go-round contributions, successfully obscuring the transactions from cursory scrutiny.

    Sources allege the Nyayo House network employs comparable methodology, routing money through accounts that appear connected to legitimate small businesses operating in and around the building.

    “Some of these payments are not made in cash. There are specific M-Pesa lines linked to individuals within the network, making it easier to move money without raising suspicion.”

    This digital dimension of the alleged scheme significantly elevates its complexity. Investigators probing such networks require forensic access to mobile money records, a process that ordinarily demands a court order and the cooperation of Safaricom, and which in past cases has moved at a pace that allows suspects to dissipate funds long before any accountability mechanism is triggered.

    A BUSINESS EMPIRE ALLEGEDLY BUILT ON A GOVERNMENT BUILDING’S BACK

    The most detailed individual profile to emerge from the investigation centres on Eliza, the figure allegedly in control of the 7th floor.

    Sources accuse her of operating a constellation of commercial interests that draw their lifeblood from her alleged position within the network.

    These businesses are said to include M-Pesa outlets, an establishment identified as Everest Media Small Village Bar and Restaurant, a registered entity named Everest Media Planning SLNS Ltd, and a general retail shop linked to a Kibra DC address.

    Crucially, insiders allege that some of these businesses were previously shut down over corruption-related concerns and subsequently reopened under the protection of influential networks spanning immigration services, the national registration bureau, and local administration units.

    If that allegation is accurate, it would suggest that the Nyayo House scheme is not merely a street-level racket but one that enjoys layers of institutional insulation.

    Sources further allege that a senior government official benefits from the proceeds of the network, with cash routed to them through proxies.

    Kenya Insights has not been able to verify the identity of this official and the allegation is treated, for now, as an unverified claim requiring further investigation.

    CORRUPTION FINDS A HOME IN A BUILDING ALREADY SYNONYMOUS WITH IT

    Nyayo House carries a singular weight in Kenya’s political imagination.

    Built between 1979 and 1983 under the government of President Daniel arap Moi, the 27-floor tower was designed to house the headquarters of Nairobi Province, the immigration department, and several other national government functions.

    Its basement cells, where political detainees were tortured during the 1980s and early 1990s, remain among the most documented sites of state violence in post-independence Africa, described by survivors including Raila Odinga, Koigi wa Mwere, and Gitobu Imanyara.

    The building’s modern reputation has not shed entirely its association with corruption and coercion. Interior Cabinet Secretary Kithure Kindiki declared it a crime scene in 2023, referencing the passport cartel that had paralysed the immigration department and pushed the backlog of unprocessed applications to over 58,000.

    Seventeen immigration officers were subsequently arrested and charged following intelligence-led operations. Yet the broader ecosystem of institutional exploitation within the building, sources insist, was never fully dismantled.

    The kitchen allocation racket, if the allegations hold up under scrutiny, would represent an extension of that ecosystem into the building’s secondary commercial infrastructure, turning even the provision of food into a gatekeeping mechanism for graft.

    It would also reinforce what Transparency International’s latest Corruption Perceptions Index confirmed in its 2025 ranking, placing Kenya at 130th out of 182 countries with a score of 30 out of 100, two points lower than the previous year, a deterioration that watchdogs attribute to weakening institutional accountability.

    IMPUNITY AND THE SILENCE OF OFFICIAL KENYA

    The Kenya Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission has in recent years secured notable convictions, including a historic Sh9.8 billion graft fine in the NSSF case and the conviction of former Kiambu Governor Ferdinand Waititu in the Sh588 million procurement scandal.

    Yet enforcement at the level of mid-tier institutional corruption, the kind that does not make front pages but drains thousands of ordinary Kenyans one transaction at a time, has remained inconsistent.

    The vendor who paid Sh100,000 for her kitchen space did not report the demand to any authority.

    She knew, she said, that reporting carried consequences and that the individuals she would be reporting to were often the same individuals she would need to protect herself from.

    That calculation, repeated across thousands of transactions in dozens of government buildings across Nairobi, is what has allowed the kitchen cartel and networks like it to survive, refresh themselves after periodic crackdowns, and reopen for business under new arrangements.

    Kenya Insights formally sought comment from the relevant county and national government offices, including the Office of the Nairobi County Commissioner and the State Department for Immigration. No response was received before publication. The named individuals were not reachable for comment at the time this report went to press. This investigation is ongoing.

  • Forged Legacy: How Kaplan and Stratton’s Peter Gachuhi Is Accused of Faking a Top AG’s Will as State Claims Damning Evidence

    Forged Legacy: How Kaplan and Stratton’s Peter Gachuhi Is Accused of Faking a Top AG’s Will as State Claims Damning Evidence

    The walls are closing in on Kaplan and Stratton.

    Within weeks of each other, two senior partners at one of Kenya’s oldest and most celebrated commercial law firms have been dragged into separate but thematically identical storms — allegations of document fraud, manufactured evidence, and the manipulation of Kenya’s highest judicial processes.

    But it is the case against Peter Mbuthia Gachuhi, accused of forging the will of Kenya’s second Attorney General, James Boro Karugu, that now poses the gravest threat to the firm’s storied reputation.

    The charge is as stark as it is extraordinary. Gachuhi, a senior partner at the same institution that once acted for Karugu in his lifetime, stands accused by the Directorate of Criminal Investigations and the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions of conspiring with five other individuals to fabricate the last will and testament of a man whose legal integrity was the defining feature of his public life.

    The DPP approved charges on December 23, 2025, for forgery, uttering false documents, and conspiracy to defraud. For a firm whose letterhead has graced the most consequential transactions in East African commerce, the reputational consequences are incalculable.

    THE DEAD MAN’S SIGNATURE

    James Boro Karugu died on November 9, 2022, aged 86, at his Kiamara farm in Kiambu County. He was a man of towering legal intellect and fierce personal integrity.

    He had resigned as Attorney General under President Daniel arap Moi in 1981 rather than bend his office to political pressure — a resignation that made him a singular figure in a generation of lawyers whose most common instinct was accommodation.

    For four decades after leaving public life, he quietly built one of the most substantial private estates in the country’s legal history.

    That estate spans over 753 acres across five counties, includes Treasury bonds valued at Sh404.7 million, shareholdings in Kenya Power and Nation Media Group, and a commercial building along Kenyatta Avenue in Nairobi’s central business district.

    Control of the estate’s corporate holdings sits under Mathara Holdings Limited, a vehicle that Karugu’s firstborn daughter Victoria Nyambura Karugu ran as Chief Executive after her father’s dementia took hold in 2015.

    Weeks after Karugu was laid to rest, a will dated April 2, 2014 was presented to family members at what has since been described as a carefully choreographed hotel event.

    Alongside it came a trust deed establishing the JBK Foundation. Nyambura rejected both documents immediately.

    She pointed to a will drawn up by Patel and Patel Advocates in 2010 as the authentic expression of her father’s wishes, and she noted that neither document had surfaced at any point during the former Attorney General’s lifetime.

    She lodged a formal complaint with the DCI’s Economic and Commercial Crimes Unit, and the machinery of the State began to turn.

    A FORENSIC RECKONING

    What investigators uncovered has since become the cornerstone of the prosecution’s case.

    Chief Inspector Duncan Maina, acting on behalf of the DPP and the DCI, filed an affidavit detailing how forensic examiners found that the contested will and trust deed bore grammatical errors, arithmetic mistakes, spelling blunders, and erratic page numbering entirely inconsistent with the standards of a man who had served as the country’s chief law officer.

    The investigators characterised the documents as having been assembled in a cut-and-paste fashion from multiple sources.

    The forensic report found that the initials appearing across all pages of both documents, purportedly those of Karugu, were forged, and that the signature page had been fraudulently attached to the main body of the will.

    The execution page bore what the affidavit described as deliberate obscurity concealing its page number, raising the inference of deliberate tampering at the point of purported execution.

    Witnesses to the will gave conflicting accounts of when and how it was signed, with some admitting they appended their signatures on different days. None could confirm witnessing the settlor or other trustees sign — a fundamental requirement under Kenyan law for a valid testamentary execution.

    The DCI’s conclusion was unambiguous: the questioned initials and signatures were not those of James Boro Karugu. In the affidavit of Chief Inspector Maina, the State put its position with unusual bluntness.

    The impugned will and trust deed, it said, bore several drafting concerns that did not resonate with the professional standards of a man of the stature of the deceased, described as an impeccable lawyer and the second Attorney General of the Republic of Kenya.

    The initials, it stated plainly, were a forgery.

    THE LAWYER WHO BARELY KNEW THE MAN

    The inclusion of Gachuhi among the six suspects is not merely sensational. It is, according to Nyambura’s court filings, the logical product of a sustained pattern of conduct.

    She has alleged in detailed affidavits that Gachuhi met her father only once in the eight years preceding his death — a meeting she says she attended and in which nothing about an executorship was discussed.

    She further states that Gachuhi was not present at Karugu’s funeral or his memorial service and was never described by the former Attorney General as a close friend or confidant.

    The conflict of interest angle is particularly damaging. Court papers reveal that Gachuhi and Kaplan and Stratton had previously represented Karugu in 2016 when a woman, Lucy Githire Muthoni, claimed to have been married to the former Attorney General.

    A similar claim by another woman, Wambui Mwangi, also saw the firm instructed to deny all allegations of marriage while acknowledging paternity.

    Having acted for Karugu in matters of the most intimate personal sensitivity, Gachuhi was now presenting himself as the executor of a will that Karugu’s own daughter says was manufactured after her father’s death.

    On July 5, 2023, Gachuhi and two others filed a petition for a grant of probate through Kaplan and Stratton Advocates, seeking permission to execute the contested will.

    The trio simultaneously applied to have the copy of the will sealed from parties outside the succession proceedings — a move Nyambura has argued in court was designed to obstruct DCI investigators who were simultaneously seeking access to the document for forensic examination.

    Court papers further reveal that at least one petitioner initially resisted producing the originals before eventually surrendering copies.

    Nyambura has gone further, alleging that the motive for the entire scheme is not difficult to identify.

    A trust managed by executors under the direction of Kaplan and Stratton would have placed Karugu’s entire estate under the firm’s effective management for an indefinite period, generating a retainer whose financial value she describes as extraordinary.

    The assets of the deceased, she has alleged in an affidavit, would have been placed under the direct control of Kaplan and Stratton until their full depletion, to the grave prejudice of the legitimate beneficiaries.

    THE STATE SPEAKS

    Attorney General Dorcas Oduor formally entered the arena on February 17, 2026, with grounds of opposition that described the petition by Gachuhi and his co-petitioners as incompetent, misconceived, and an abuse of the court process.

    The Attorney General argued that the existence of the succession cause pending before the Family Division of the High Court created no bar to criminal investigations and prosecution. Forgery is a crime under the Penal Code, the State said, and cannot be resolved in a succession court that has no jurisdiction to determine criminal culpability.

    The AG further argued that no constitutional rights of the petitioners had been violated by the investigations and that the conservatory orders obtained on January 19, 2026 — which had temporarily restrained the DPP and DCI from summoning, arresting, or charging the suspects — should not be extended. The State asked the court to dismiss both the application and the petition with costs and allow the criminal process to run its lawful course.

    Senior Counsel Philip Murgor, acting for Nyambura, applied to have his client joined to the proceedings as an interested party, arguing that she is both the complainant in the criminal inquiry and an objector in the succession cause, and that her interests are proximate and identifiable rather than peripheral.

    The constitutional petition is scheduled before Justice Bahati Mwamuye on April 21, 2026.

    THE RIVAL REPORT

    Gachuhi and his co-petitioners have not taken the DCI findings lying down.

    They have produced a competing forensic report, authored by Anthony Ngige, the founder of Stealth Africa Consulting, a Nairobi-based risk management and forensic advisory firm.

    Ngige’s report, presented to the court as part of the petitioners’ response, reached conclusions diametrically opposed to those of the State’s examiners.

    He found no evidence of page insertion, document assembly, or material alteration and declared the allegations of forgery to be unsupported by forensic evidence.

    He attributed variations in the handwriting to natural differences expected in genuine signatures and criticised the DCI for failing to employ advanced forensic methods including infrared photography.

    The clash of forensic opinions is now itself a central issue in the litigation and will ultimately determine whether the criminal trial proceeds in earnest.

    Courts will be asked to decide not only which examiner is more credible but whether the methodological differences between the two reports are material to the question of authenticity.

    Gachuhi’s affidavit states that while Karugu had asked him in 2013 to serve as an executor and trustee for a planned foundation, he neither drafted the will nor the trust deed and is not a beneficiary under either document.

    THE SECOND STORM

    The crisis at Kaplan and Stratton deepened dramatically on February 16, 2026, when former Cabinet Secretary Raphael Tuju walked into DCI headquarters and formally recorded a criminal complaint against Senior Counsel Fred Ojiambo — the most senior partner at the firm and the same advocate who appeared in court to defend Gachuhi in the constitutional petition.

    The two crises are now inextricably linked in public perception and, increasingly, in legal argument.

    At the centre of Tuju’s complaint is a 27-acre prime property in Karen valued at approximately Ksh 1.5 billion, which has been the subject of a protracted dispute with the East African Development Bank arising from a 2015 loan facility that grew to more than Ksh 4.5 billion.

    Tuju alleged that Ojiambo and other Kaplan and Stratton advocates procured affidavits from the bank’s former Kenya Country Manager that contained deliberate falsehoods, and that those affidavits were presented as having been properly commissioned before a Commissioner for Oaths when they were no such thing.

    If established, the consequence would be that sworn evidence filed before both the High Court and the Supreme Court of Kenya was fraudulent.

    Tuju told investigators that Ojiambo had also persuaded the High Court to recognise a diplomatic immunity claim on behalf of the EADB — an immunity Tuju flatly asserts does not exist in law — thereby freezing a separate criminal matter at the Magistrates Court for more than a year.

    He further alleged the deployment of a fraudulent international warrant of arrest, attributed to a Ugandan magistrate’s court, as a mechanism of intimidation against him and his family.

    Ojiambo denied every allegation. Speaking to journalists in a phone call, he was categorical: no affidavit had been falsified on any matter whatsoever.

    A separate complaint was filed before the Senior Counsel Committee by Tuju’s lawyer seeking the removal of Ojiambo and former Attorney General Githu Muigai from the list of Senior Counsel on grounds of gross professional misconduct — a proceeding that, if successful, would constitute the most severe professional sanction short of disbarment that Kenya’s legal system can impose.

    Outside DCI headquarters on the day he recorded his statement, Tuju delivered the line that has since defined the public character of the whole affair.

    Fred Ojiambo, he declared, is a Bible-carrying fraud with a fake British accent.

    The remark, intemperate but precisely aimed, has entered the lexicon of a scandal that is rewriting Kenyan legal history in real time.

     

    A FIRM AT A CROSSROADS

    Kaplan and Stratton was founded on the quiet conviction that commercial law, practised with rigour and discretion, could anchor itself above the turbulence of politics and scandal.

    It has carried that reputation across decades and through multiple cycles of political upheaval.

    The firm counts among its alumni and retainers some of the most significant transactions in East African corporate history. Its name has been synonymous with a kind of colonial-era solidity that newer firms have neither inherited nor replicated.

    That name is now at the centre of what the Director of Public Prosecutions describes as a coordinated criminal scheme, and what the Attorney General has characterised as an abuse of the court process. Two of its most senior partners face formal criminal complaints.

    Its letterhead appears on the probate petition at the centre of the forgery case.

    Its managing partner appeared in court not to handle a client’s case but to defend a colleague facing prosecution for document fraud.

    For Gachuhi and Ojiambo, the presumption of innocence is absolute. No charges have been formally laid and tried.

    The DCI investigation into Tuju’s complaint remains at an early stage. The constitutional petition is yet to be determined. Conflicting forensic reports remain unresolved. The law will take its course.

    But for an institution whose currency has always been reputation — whose value to clients rests precisely on the assumption that its word is its bond — the question of what the court finds is almost secondary to the question of what the market has already decided. And the market, in Kenya’s legal profession, has a long memory.

    James Boro Karugu left school barefoot and sat in the gallery of the High Court mesmerised by men in white wigs.

    He rose to become the one man who wore those wigs and refused to let them be used for anything other than justice.

    The irony that his name and his estate are now at the centre of Kenya’s most consequential legal scandal is one that history will not easily forgive — whoever is ultimately found to be responsible.

  • Newly Confirmed KeNHA Boss Luka Kimeli Dragged In Alleged Multimillion Tender Scam

    Newly Confirmed KeNHA Boss Luka Kimeli Dragged In Alleged Multimillion Tender Scam

    The ink on his official appointment letter had barely dried when the questions began to follow Eng. Luka Kipchumba Kimeli through the corridors of KeNHA’s upper hill offices. On 17 February 2026, the Kenya National Highways Authority Board, acting in consultation with the Cabinet Secretary for Roads and Transport, formalised his elevation to Director-General, ending a seven-month acting tenure that had itself been turbulent.

    The Board, through its Chairperson Winfrida Ngumi, assured the public of a recruitment process it called “competitive and transparent” conducted in line with the Kenya Roads Act, 2007. What the statement did not address was the cloud of allegations, court findings and institutional controversy that had accumulated around Kimeli and the agency he now helms during the very months he was auditioning for the role permanently.

    A wave of claims circulating across public platforms since the announcement allege that Kimeli’s office may have played a facilitative role in the award of a multi-million-shilling contract to a foreign entity under circumstances that have raised serious questions about competitive bidding, preferential treatment and due process.

    The allegations, which have yet to be tested before any formal body, describe a procurement environment in which internal processes may have been tailored to accommodate an outcome already decided elsewhere. As of the time of this investigation, neither KeNHA nor the Ministry of Roads and Transport had issued any public response to the claims, and no oversight authority had publicly pronounced itself on the matter.

    What makes the allegations particularly combustible is the context in which they land. KeNHA is not an agency with a pristine reputation. It has spent the better part of two decades at the centre of Kenya’s most consequential and most contested infrastructure governance controversies.

    Its procurement architecture has drawn sustained fire from the Auditor-General, parliamentary committees, and anti-corruption investigators. Its project files are laden with cost overruns, vanished documentation, unexplained contract variations, and billions in pending bills to contractors who in turn have dragged the agency into protracted, expensive court battles. Kimeli now presides over all of it, and the allegations against him are arriving at a moment when the institution he leads can least afford further reputational damage.

    The Contempt Conviction That Preceded the Appointment

    Long before the current tender allegations surfaced, Kimeli’s tenure as acting Director-General had already attracted the attention of the High Court in a manner that would ordinarily give any appointing authority cause for reflection. On 25 November 2025, the High Court found Kimeli guilty of contempt of court for defying a binding judicial order directing KeNHA to settle a debt of Sh536,464,436 owed to SBI International Holdings (Kenya) Limited, an Israeli construction firm.

    The court was unambiguous in its language. It characterised Kimeli’s conduct as adopting a posture of waiting to see what consequences may follow, in the hope that none will, and declared such conduct wholly unacceptable.

    Kimeli was summoned to appear before the Nairobi court on 19 December 2025 for mitigation and sentencing, a proceeding that unfolded while his permanent appointment was already being processed.

    He had argued before the court that KeNHA’s failure to pay was not wilful disobedience but a consequence of budgetary constraints and administrative processes.

    He told the court that KeNHA had proposed a structured repayment plan in December 2023 involving six equal instalments beginning January 2024, that partial payments had been made, and that the agency had written to the Principal Secretary for Roads in May 2025 to notify the balance outstanding. The court rejected this framing entirely. It ruled that the continued default, in the face of a binding consent order and available statutory funding mechanisms, constituted wilful contempt. A statutory body that elects to disobey orders, it held, undermines public confidence in lawful administration.

    The SBI International dispute is itself a decades-long saga that illuminates the chronic dysfunction at the heart of KeNHA’s contract management. SBI, the Kenya subsidiary of the Israeli construction giant Shikun and Binui, had been awarded a series of major highway contracts including the dualling of the Kisumu Boys Roundabout to Mamboleo Junction and stretches of the Mau Summit to Kericho to Kisumu corridor.

    In December 2018, the company abandoned works on the Kisumu dual carriage, citing unpaid arrears and delayed completion. A Disputes Adjudication Board subsequently awarded it Sh1.3 billion in April 2019 for the illegal termination of contracts, a figure that KeNHA contested in court and lost. The cascade of litigation that followed has cost the Kenyan taxpayer over Sh6 billion in payments to SBI across nine contract disputes, accounting at its peak for more than 80 percent of all payments made by road agencies for contract breaches in a single financial year.

    The SBI saga carries an additional layer of toxicity that predates Kimeli’s tenure but that continues to shadow the institution he has inherited.

    Israeli investigators established that SBI’s parent company, Shikun and Binui, had paid bribes to Kenyan public officials to secure road tenders.

    The Israeli probe, which culminated in a court fine exceeding Sh9 billion, named 18 Kenyan nationals as implicated, including two former Transport Ministers and a former Principal Secretary, as well as officers drawn from KeNHA, KURA, and KeRRA. Coordinated raids by Kenyan and Israeli detectives on SBI offices in February 2018 yielded seized documents, false invoices and a twenty-page notebook detailing transactions. The stain of that episode has never fully lifted from the institutional memory of Kenya’s roads agencies.

    The Kiambu Road Debacle and the Question of Foreign Contractor Preference

    One of the most legally contentious procurement episodes of Kimeli’s acting tenure unfolded in July 2025, when KeNHA published Tender Number KeNHA/2889/2025 for the capacity enhancement of the Pangani-Muthaiga-Kiambu-Ndumberi road, the busy B32 corridor linking Nairobi’s northern suburbs to Kiambu County.

    The notice attracted immediate controversy for a single, striking reason: it restricted eligible bidders exclusively to Chinese firms or consortia led by Chinese enterprises, citing financing arrangements with the China Export-Import Bank.

    Prospective applicants were required to demonstrate a minimum annual construction turnover of Sh32 billion over the preceding five years, a threshold that, combined with the nationality restriction, effectively closed the procurement to virtually the entire Kenyan construction industry.

    Stakeholders and legal observers reacted with alarm, arguing that limiting bidders to Chinese companies on a government procurement was a direct violation of the Public Procurement and Asset Disposal Act, which reserves preferential treatment for Kenyan firms.

    One week after publishing the notice, KeNHA silently revoked it through a second advertisement in the government’s official MyGov publication, without explanation. The agency did not respond to press inquiries.

    The abrupt reversal left the project in limbo and raised questions about who had approved the original notice, what instructions had been received from the Ministry, and whether the restriction was demanded by the Chinese financier or volunteered by KeNHA officials. Kimeli was acting Director-General at the time and was therefore the accounting officer on whose watch the controversial tender was issued and then withdrawn without public explanation.

    The affair drew parliamentary attention.

    The Senate mounted an inquiry into the agency’s use of exclusionary foreign tender restrictions on a project of national significance. Separately, a Kiambu County Assembly official who sought formal clarification from KeNHA was assured, through a letter, that the project would eventually be re-tendered under the Kenya Urban Roads Authority, an explanation that raised further questions about why KeNHA had originated the procurement for a project that fell within KURA’s jurisdiction.

    No formal accountability mechanism has since been triggered. Kimeli was confirmed as substantive Director-General without being required to publicly address the circumstances of the controversial tender or its unexplained withdrawal.

    An Auditor-General’s Graveyard: KeNHA’s Long Procurement Record

    To understand the gravity of the current allegations against Kimeli and the fragility of KeNHA’s institutional standing, one must reckon with the depth of the agency’s documented governance failures.

    The Office of the Auditor-General has for years produced reports that read less like routine financial reviews and more like indictments of a procurement system that operates with remarkable indifference to the law.

    Auditor-General Nancy Gathungu has, across successive reports, flagged KeNHA for missing board minutes, contracts awarded without supporting documentation, consultancy fees paid without underlying contracts, unexplained cost variances running into the billions, and payments made for services that cannot be independently verified.

    A forensic audit of the Mombasa-Mariakani highway project, presented to Parliament in 2024, exposed some of the most egregious examples.

    The audit found that KeNHA had implemented a project alternative that exceeded the cheapest feasible option by more than Sh5 billion without documenting any justification for the change.

    A difference of Sh9.7 billion between the project’s cost and its approved budget went unexplained. The National Land Commission was found to have irregularly paid public funds to acquire parcels of land that belonged to other state entities, including Kenya Power, KenGen, Kenya Revenue Authority and Kenya Railways. Board minutes for the project were absent.

    Multiple consultancy contracts, including those awarded to AECOM, SAI Consult and other firms, could not be supported by documentation. Missing exchequer and receipt vouchers worth Sh127 million were flagged in donor-funded accounts for the same project.

    Cost overruns across KeNHA’s project portfolio have been equally disturbing. An analysis of official Transport Ministry data tracking infrastructure spending between 2007 and 2017 identified at least 26 KeNHA projects that had exceeded their initial cost estimates, collectively overshooting their budgets by more than Sh20 billion.

    A single project, the rehabilitation of the Kakamega-Webuye Road, ran Sh1.3 billion over estimate.

    The Mwatate-Taveta Road, commissioned with fanfare during the Kenyatta era, cost Sh10.5 billion against an initial estimate of Sh9.55 billion.

    The Kisumu-Kakamega road was varied by 78.8 percent beyond its contract sum in violation of procurement law.

    Such variations, the auditor noted, effectively doubled the cost to the taxpayer while providing no corresponding accountability.

    The cumulative pending bills owed to road sector contractors at the time stood at Sh145 billion, representing a quarter of the government’s entire pending bill backlog.

    A March 2026 report by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development on competition law and public procurement in Kenya lent international credibility to what domestic auditors had been documenting for years.

    The OECD found that while Kenya possessed sound legal frameworks against collusion and bid-rigging, enforcement was weak, penalties were rarely applied, and the oversight agencies responsible for monitoring procurement, most notably the Public Procurement Regulatory Authority and the Competition Authority of Kenya, operated in institutional silos with little coordination.

    Digital procurement systems that could flag suspicious bidding patterns in real time covered only a small fraction of public agencies.

    The consequences of this enforcement vacuum were described by the OECD as systemic and economically costly, with road infrastructure repeatedly identified as among the sectors most vulnerable to cartel activity.

    The Succession That Raised Its Own Questions

    Kimeli inherited the acting role under circumstances that were themselves unexplained. On 11 July 2025, his predecessor Eng. Kung’u Ndung’u resigned with immediate effect, on the very same day that the Director-General of the Kenya Rural Roads Authority, Eng. Philemon Kandie, also stepped down.

    The simultaneous resignation of the heads of two of Kenya’s three principal road agencies on a single day, without public explanation from either agency, was treated by observers as either a coordinated political manoeuvre or the consequence of pressure emanating from the political transitions of mid-2025.

    KeNHA’s Board accepted Ndung’u’s departure and appointed Kimeli in his place within hours, a speed of transition that suggested the succession had been anticipated.

    Ndung’u’s own tenure had not been without controversy.

    A petition was filed at the High Court in connection with allegations that his KeRRA counterpart Kandie had used state machinery to facilitate anti-government protests, and the broader wave of leadership exits was widely read as a political cleansing within the transport infrastructure bureaucracy.

    Into this environment Kimeli stepped, armed with credentials that were individually impressive, a First Class Honours degree in Civil Engineering from the University of Nairobi, an MBA from the same institution, 27 years across multiple roles in the road sector, and a 2025 award for contributions to the digitalisation of weighbridge operations.

    Whether credentials alone are sufficient armour against the institutional forces that have made KeNHA a byword for procurement opacity is the question that the current allegations are forcing into the open.

    Silence as a Policy: The Accountability Deficit

    The most troubling aspect of the controversy surrounding the current tender allegations is not the allegations themselves, which remain unverified and whose full details have not been placed before any formal investigative body, but rather the institutional posture they have provoked. KeNHA has not issued any statement.

    The Ministry of Roads and Transport has been silent. No parliamentary committee has publicly called for an explanation.

    The Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission, whose mandate expressly covers procurement irregularities in state agencies, has made no public pronouncements. This silence is itself a governance failure.

    KeNHA does maintain a public portal through which quarterly tender awards are published, a transparency mechanism that governance advocates have cautiously welcomed.

    But publication of tender awards is only meaningful if the process that produces those awards is itself subject to scrutiny. The Auditor-General’s repeated findings suggest that documentation, the evidentiary paper trail that procurement law requires, has been systematically absent or manipulated.

    An agency that can award contracts without supporting documentation, vary project costs by billions without board approval, and miss exchequer vouchers worth hundreds of millions in donor-funded accounts is not made more transparent by a public portal. The portal becomes, in that environment, a fig leaf.

    The Kenya Railways Corporation offers a cautionary parallel. In March 2026, reporting revealed that the corporation had awarded a Sh29.5 billion Nairobi Railway City Central Station contract to China Road and Bridge Corporation despite a lower competing bid, only for the Public Procurement Administrative Review Board to nullify the award after finding that CRBC had improperly submitted its technical and financial proposals in a single envelope.

    Kenya Railways then re-awarded the same tender to the same disqualified bidder, triggering a second appeal and prompting reports that representatives of the competing firm had been detained and deported.

    The episode illustrated precisely the culture that the OECD report had warned against: oversight institutions acting, but accounting officers treating their decisions as negotiable inconveniences.

    Billions at Stake and a Test of Institutional Character

    The stakes at KeNHA are not abstract. The agency has secured Sh77 billion in funding to revive stalled projects, including the Sh85 billion Isiolo-Mandera highway, a strategic corridor whose completion has been deferred across multiple administrations. In late 2025, KeNHA also accessed a Sh389.1 billion World Bank grant for rural roads across nine counties.

    The government has separately allocated Sh175.6 billion for road construction and rehabilitation in the 2025-26 financial year and has committed to investing Sh394 billion over the next five years in highway construction and rehabilitation. Kimeli is the accounting officer for all of it.

    The decisions made at KeNHA over his tenure will shape Kenya’s road network for a generation and will also determine how much of that public money survives the procurement process intact.

    For an agency trusted with funds of this magnitude, the allegations now in circulation cannot be allowed to fester in an accountability vacuum. The Public Procurement Regulatory Authority possesses the mandate to investigate complaints about procurement irregularities in public bodies.

    The Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission has jurisdiction over conduct that constitutes corrupt practice in state institutions.

    Parliament’s relevant committees have the power to summon accounting officers and demand documentation. What has been conspicuously absent in the weeks since the allegations surfaced is any indication that any of these mechanisms is being engaged. Accountability in Kenya’s roads sector has historically moved only when institutional pressure made inaction politically costly. That pressure has not yet been applied.

    Kimeli personally has taken no public position on the tender allegations and has not addressed the circumstances of his contempt conviction in the context of his permanent appointment.

    He was, at the time of going to press, instead conducting site visits alongside KeNHA Board Chair Winfrida Ngumi as part of what the agency described as efforts to accelerate road development. The optics of senior leadership on site tours while procurement allegations circulate unaddressed will not escape observers who have watched this agency manage its public relations through activity rather than accountability.

    The broader Kenya governance context in which Kimeli’s appointment sits is one defined by the Auditor-General’s own words, repeated in her latest public briefing in early 2026: year after year, we continue to flag the same issues, weak procurement systems, unsupported expenditures, and lack of accountability.

    The roads sector has been a reliable entry in that catalogue of recurring failure. Whether Kimeli’s tenure at KeNHA will represent a departure from that record or an extension of it is the question that the current moment is asking.

    The answer will not emerge from a press release or a site visit. It will emerge from whether the men and women with oversight authority over this agency choose, this time, to exercise it.

  • Mombasa Lawyer On Radar Over Scandalous Garbage Collection Deal

    Mombasa Lawyer On Radar Over Scandalous Garbage Collection Deal

    A Mombasa-based lawyer has been thrust into the centre of one of Kenya’s most explosive procurement controversies after her name appeared on the incorporation documents of a local shell company engineered to capture a multibillion-shilling Nairobi garbage contract, in a saga that has already claimed the life of a senior City Hall official at the departure terminal of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, triggered a High Court conservatory order, prompted a parallel investigation by the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission and drawn comparisons to the very country from which the Ghanaian waste firm at the heart of the deal has been effectively expelled.

    Heeral Vishal Soni, an advocate of the High Court of Kenya operating out of Mombasa and listed as a partner at Soni and Associates Advocates LLP, is the sole Kenyan director in Zoomlion Waste Services Limited, a company incorporated on August 23, 2025 in which Zoomlion Ghana Limited holds all the shares.

    The two Ghanaian principals behind the venture are Joseph Kwame Siaw Agyepong, the flamboyant executive chairman of the Jospong Group of Companies and the man who built Zoomlion into a continental sanitation behemoth, and Said Haidar, a Ghanaian national who has travelled frequently with Soni in recent months.

    That Soni holds no shares, serving as a director without equity, has done nothing to quiet the questions swirling around her role in an arrangement that procurement experts say was structured from the inside out.

    The timing of Zoomlion Waste Services Limited’s birth in the Kenyan company registry is, on its own, damning. The entity was incorporated on August 23, 2025.

    The Nairobi City County government only advertised the tender it was destined to win on December 18, 2025, nearly four months later. Bids closed and were opened on January 8, 2026. Zoomlion Waste Services was the only entity to submit a response.

    In a project of this scale, complexity and projected duration involving the primary waste infrastructure of a capital city of more than six million people, a single bid is not a market outcome. It is an administrative outcome: the product of deliberate choices about how a tender is structured, timed and classified to guarantee a result already decided elsewhere.

    The contract, formally designated Tender No. NCC/ENV/RFP/100/2025-2026, grants Zoomlion Ghana Limited exclusive rights to design, construct, operate, maintain and eventually transfer to the county an integrated solid waste management system for Nairobi.

    Its scope takes in waste collection and haulage across the capital, control of the 76-acre Dandora dumpsite, sorting, recycling and disposal infrastructure, and the construction of a waste-to-energy facility that the national government has projected could generate electricity and produce fertiliser by 2027. Its duration was advertised as twenty-five years, a period that will outlast at least three gubernatorial terms and bind administrations not yet elected to financial obligations whose full terms have never been disclosed to the public.

    “A single bid in a project of this scale is not a market outcome. It is an administrative outcome: the product of deliberate choices about who was meant to win.”

    Procurement expert, speaking on condition of anonymity

    The notification of award was issued in United States dollars rather than Kenya shillings, an irregularity that alarmed Treasury officials who reviewed the agreement.

    No dedicated funding mechanism, no escrow arrangement, no clearly defined management fee schedule and no guaranteed minimum waste supply commitment appears in the contract as reviewed by City Hall’s own technical team.

    That team characterised the document in language that ought to have stopped the deal cold, warning that the absence of provisions addressing ISPO arrangements, escrow mechanisms, management fee schedules, minimum waste supply guarantees and dedicated funding sources exposed the project to serious operational and financial risk. City Hall signed it anyway.

    The procurement pathway chosen by the county government is itself a confession of irregular intent. By virtue of its financing, construction and long-term operational components, the contract falls squarely within the Public Private Partnership Act 2021 and should have been processed through the PPP Directorate under the National Treasury, a route that would have imposed independent technical review, public participation obligations and mandatory Attorney General approval before execution.

    Instead, the county ran it under the Public Procurement and Asset Disposal Act 2015, a statutory choice that stripped the deal of those safeguards and allowed a tender that should have attracted global competitors to be compressed into a window so short that only a company already incorporated in Kenya and already in conversation with City Hall could realistically respond.

    The tender document adds insult to that injury. It carries a clause stating the process is open to both local and international bidders while bearing none of the classification initials that legally designate a tender as an Open International Tender.

    In the absence of those designations, Kenyan companies were nominally eligible while the structural conditions of the process ensured that only a firm already positioned and incorporated in Kenya before the advertisement could realistically respond within the compressed window available. Zoomlion Waste Services Limited had been in existence for exactly that purpose since August.

    A DEATH AT THE DEPARTURE GATE

    It was on February 16, 2026, at 5:05 in the morning, that Charles Gathara, who had served for over a decade as a senior official in City Hall’s Water and Sanitation department and who had been appointed to chair the county’s tender evaluation committee for the Zoomlion project, arrived at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport at the head of a technical due diligence team bound for Accra.

    The mission, shrouded in the kind of secrecy that had defined the entire procurement, was to tour Zoomlion’s operations in Ghana and return satisfied that the company they had already awarded the contract to was capable of delivering on it.

    That sequence, due diligence conducted after contract award rather than before it, is the procedural equivalent of buying a house and only then inspecting the foundations.

    An aviation workers’ strike grounded the airport. Gathara and his colleagues waited. Sources with knowledge of the internal dynamics at City Hall told Kenya Insights that Gathara had, in the weeks preceding the trip, raised objections to aspects of the deal that his colleagues were unwilling to discuss openly and that those objections had placed him in sharp conflict with figures whose financial interests in the contract’s smooth progress were considerable.

    The Weekly Citizen, which first reported details of the incident, stated that Gathara had specifically differed with Soni over questions relating to kickbacks associated with the procurement. Then, while waiting for the strike to resolve, Gathara collapsed. He was pronounced dead at the airport.

    His colleagues departed without him. Kenya Airways flight KQ508, a Boeing 737-86N, eventually lifted off at 8:53 in the evening after a delay of more than fifteen hours.

    A Zoomlion protocol team had been waiting in Accra since early morning. The delegation spent three days at the company’s facilities, touring sites and receiving a presentation prepared by the very contractor whose capacity they were supposed to be independently verifying.

    Walter Omwenga, the deputy director for environment and final disposal who was among those who made the trip, would later confirm to journalists that the exercise involved physically inspecting what a bidder had claimed it could do, without explaining why that verification was happening after the contract had been signed rather than before. Gathara was buried on February 27, 2026 at his family home in Gathoni, Embu. He was 55.

    The decision to proceed with the Ghana trip on the day of Gathara’s death, without pausing to investigate the circumstances of his collapse or to question the propriety of an exercise that was already ethically compromised, has drawn quiet condemnation from governance advocates and procurement law practitioners who reviewed the episode at Kenya Insights’s request. One senior advocate, speaking without attribution, described the optics as extraordinary even by the standards of Kenyan county procurement, which are not known for their exacting ethical rigour.

    PRESIDENT, GOVERNOR AND A GHANAIAN TYCOON

    The fingerprints of the national government are visible throughout a transaction that City Hall has presented as a routine county procurement.

    On August 13, 2025, at the Devolution Conference in Homa Bay, the Jospong Group of Companies was allocated a stand at the exhibition grounds, which President William Ruto visited on the opening day.

    The President subsequently praised Zoomlion for its waste management model and told Kenyans that his administration was working with Nairobi Governor Johnson Sakaja to resolve the capital’s garbage crisis.

    Ten days later, Zoomlion Waste Services Limited was incorporated in Nairobi with Soni as its Kenyan director. The tender was advertised four months after that. In a January 20, 2026 address in Nairobi, Ruto confirmed that the national government had been party to the procurement process. The deal, in other words, was State House before it was City Hall.

    What was kept from Nairobians is what the President and the Governor already knew: that the company they were endorsing had, by the time of their public enthusiasm for it, accumulated a record in its home country that Ghana’s own new government found sufficiently alarming to terminate their relationship with it entirely. In June 2025, President John Mahama of Ghana cancelled Zoomlion’s long-standing contract with the Youth Employment Agency over transparency concerns and fairness failures affecting thousands of low-paid street cleaners. Mahama directed that all payments to Zoomlion made after the contract’s expiration would undergo a thorough audit.

    Civil society in Ghana had spent years documenting what critics described as a monopoly over public sanitation built on political connections and procurement structures that crowded out competitors.

    The Jospong Group and Zoomlion had previously been blacklisted by the World Bank over integrity concerns. None of that history appeared to trouble the administration that was simultaneously rolling out the red carpet for the same firm in Nairobi.

    MOMBASA ALREADY BURNING

    The Nairobi scandal did not arrive in a vacuum. Mombasa County had already walked the same road, and the results were no less troubling. Governor Abdulswamad Shariff Nassir signed a 35-year waste management contract with Zoomlion valued at Sh17 billion, a sum that amounts to roughly 131 million United States dollars, in circumstances that civil society organisations on the coast described as a procurement conducted entirely in darkness, without public participation and without transparency on the terms binding Mombasa residents for a generation.

    The Centre for Litigation Trust, a Mombasa-based civil rights group, sued the county government and obtained a court order demanding disclosure. The Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission in Mombasa subsequently opened an investigation into the contract, a probe that remains active.

    It is in the context of that Mombasa contract that Soni’s presence becomes still more significant.

    As the sole Kenyan director of the vehicle through which Zoomlion has sought to embed itself in both of Kenya’s most populous county jurisdictions, she sits at the intersection of two procurement controversies, both involving the same Ghanaian principals, both under judicial and anti-corruption scrutiny, and both structured in ways that excluded competitive participation and public oversight.

    Whether she played a facilitative legal role, a commercial intermediary role or something still more substantive is a question that investigators at the EACC in Mombasa are now formally examining.

    COURTS STEP IN WHERE OVERSIGHT FAILED

    On March 5, 2026, Justice Moses Ado of the Milimani Commercial and Tax Division issued a conservatory order barring the Nairobi county government, its environment chief officer, its director of supply chain management and the county secretary from executing or implementing the Zoomlion contract pending the hearing and determination of a petition challenging the deal.

    The order was obtained on an application filed by Jeremy Emilio, who argued that the award was illegal and unconstitutional on multiple grounds, including the absence of the Attorney General’s approval, which is legally required for any contract of this nature and value.

    The High Court has since extended those orders, with the matter now scheduled for further directions on April 27, 2026.

    The petition also raises concerns about the Sh350 million bank guarantee submitted by Zoomlion as part of the tender process, which Emilio argues is disproportionately low relative to the scale and projected value of a contract that, across its twenty-five year tenure, is expected to run to billions of shillings.

    That figure is consistent with a tender document that, as advertised, specified no price at all: a blank financial cheque drawn on the residents of Nairobi and endorsed by an administration that appears to have decided on the contractor before the advertisement was written.

    The petition further argues that at least two local companies are currently executing waste management contracts in Nairobi under earlier tenders: one for the supply of heavy equipment at Dandora, another for solid waste collection in Kibra constituency.

    Some of those contractors had already encountered delays in receiving county payments at the time the Zoomlion concession was awarded, an irony that captures something essential about how Nairobi’s governance actually works: local firms, including those with political backing, were left chasing county invoices while the county assembled a quarter-century monopoly for a foreign company its own technical team had not yet verified could do the job.

    Adding yet another layer to what has already become a juridical and reputational catastrophe for Governor Sakaja, the Environment and Land Court separately ordered Nairobi County to clear all illegally dumped trash at Umoja residential estate and enforce waste segregation compliance within 135 days, a judicial rebuke of a county government that awarded a generation-long garbage contract to a single foreign bidder while failing to collect the rubbish from its own residential estates.

    DANDORA: THE PRIZE BENEATH THE RUBBISH

    Understanding what Zoomlion has been handed requires understanding what Dandora actually is.

    The 76-acre site at the eastern edge of Nairobi has operated as the capital’s primary waste disposal facility for decades, absorbing the refuse of one of the fastest-growing urban populations in Africa in conditions that courts have now twice found to constitute a violation of constitutional rights.

    In February 2026, the Environment and Land Court awarded Sh25.8 million in damages to 1,032 waste pickers who suffered health violations through prolonged exposure to pollution at the site, holding Nairobi County and the National Environment Management Authority jointly responsible.

    The court’s findings established Dandora not merely as an environmental nuisance but as a site of systematic constitutional failure whose remediation carries an enormous financial and infrastructural obligation.

    It is control of that site, along with the revenue streams associated with waste collection across a metropolis of six million people, recycling operations, composting, and ultimately the generation of electricity from solid waste, that Zoomlion has secured through a contract structured, in the assessment of City Hall’s own technical reviewers, without any of the financial safeguards that would normally be required before a public authority surrenders control of a strategic infrastructure asset for a quarter century.

    The waste-to-energy component alone, if it performs as projected, would give Zoomlion effective control of a private power generation facility in Nairobi built on a site owned by the public and operated at public expense, for twenty-five years, with no guaranteed return mechanism to the county government identified anywhere in the contract.

    The conservatory order obtained by Emilio means that none of this can proceed while the courts examine whether any of it was legally possible in the first place.

    But the order has not resolved the deeper questions raised by the scandal: how a company was incorporated in Kenya four months before the tender it was going to win was advertised, why the official who objected to the procurement terms died at the airport on the day his colleagues left to validate those same terms, what role a Mombasa advocate with no disclosed financial stake in the arrangement has been playing in a deal that spans two county governments, two anti-corruption investigations and a conservatory order from the Commercial Court, and what President Ruto and Governor Sakaja knew, and when they knew it.

    Ghana spent years discovering what a Zoomlion contract with insufficient safeguards actually costs. Kenya appears determined to learn the same lesson the expensive way. The next court date is April 27. The accounting, when it comes, may take considerably longer.

  • Steel, Graft & Impunity: Inside the Kenya Railways Scandal Driving Away Investors and Bleeding Billions

    Steel, Graft & Impunity: Inside the Kenya Railways Scandal Driving Away Investors and Bleeding Billions

    For nearly a decade, Managing Director Philip Mainga has presided over a corporation in open institutional free fall. Court orders have been flouted within hours of service. Tenders worth tens of billions have been awarded to higher bidders in defiance of procurement review rulings. Public land worth hundreds of millions has been grabbed, sold and transferred under forged documents. A Sh88.2 million tender was directed to a company controlled by the MD’s own fiancée. And through it all, the board has maintained a studied silence while investigators have repeatedly been stopped in their tracks. This is the true state of Kenya Railways Corporation.

    A CORPORATION BUILT ON IMPUNITY

    Kenya Railways Corporation occupies a peculiar and deeply troubling position in the landscape of Kenyan state institutions. It controls some of the most valuable real estate in the country, manages the single largest infrastructure debt obligation in the nation’s history, and is tasked with delivering a multi-trillion-shilling pipeline of transport projects. Yet from the moment Philip Mainga took substantive control of the organisation in January 2020, the record is one of systematic procurement manipulation, predatory land dealings, judicial defiance, and the calculated suppression of internal dissent.

    The accumulated evidence, drawn from court records, parliamentary proceedings, audit reports and investigative disclosures, does not tell the story of a poorly-run institution. It tells the story of a deliberately captured one, where the machinery of procurement, recruitment and land management has been redirected to serve private interests at the expense of the public.

    Mainga’s tenure officially expired on January 3, 2026. Yet the Kenya Railways Corporation board, relying on a High Court ruling that declined jurisdiction to intervene in the matter, has maintained complete silence. No public notice of competitive recruitment has been issued. No announcement of a planned succession has been made. Insiders confirm that the board has been content to leave the expired MD in place, shielding him from accountability and allowing the corporation’s affairs to continue under a leadership whose mandate has lapsed.

    THE TENDER ENGINEERED FOR CRBC

    The single most brazen episode in Kenya Railways’ recent history concerns the Sh29.5 billion tender for the construction of the Nairobi Railway City Central Station. The project, which will anchor the 425-acre Railway City redevelopment partly funded by the United Kingdom government, drew bids from three Chinese firms. China Civil Engineering Construction Corporation submitted the lowest bid at Sh22.9 billion. China Road and Bridge Corporation submitted a bid of Sh29.5 billion. A consortium of China Overseas Engineering Group Company Limited and China Railway Group Limited submitted the highest quote at Sh32.5 billion.

    The rules governing the evaluation of such tenders exist for a reason. Technical and financial proposals are required to be submitted separately, precisely to ensure that evaluators assess technical merit without being influenced by price information. CRBC, according to proceedings before the Public Procurement Administrative Review Board, placed both its technical and financial proposals on flash disks inside a single envelope. The board, in a ruling issued on January 26, 2026, found this to be not a minor irregularity but a fundamental breach that rendered the CRBC bid non-responsive from the outset.

    The PPARB ruling was unequivocal. It held that Kenya Railways’ evaluation committee had acted erroneously and in a manner guided by misdirected reasoning in proceeding to score CRBC’s financial proposal despite the submission defect. The board nullified the award and directed Kenya Railways to re-evaluate the remaining compliant bids within 21 days.

    “No serious investor commits billions to a project where the rules change depending on who is receiving the kickbacks.”

    Kenya Railways ignored the directive. On February 16, 2026, the corporation again declared CRBC the best bidder, triggering a second appeal. When CCECC and the consortium mounted that second challenge, CRBC filed a High Court application to block the PPARB from hearing it. On March 11, the High Court suspended the PPARB proceedings, effectively freezing the review mechanism that exists to protect procurement integrity.

    Then came the deportations. Two days after the High Court suspended the PPARB proceedings, security operatives fanned out across Nairobi and Kisumu in coordinated night-time operations. Zhang Hongze, CCECC’s representative along Riverside Drive in Lavington, was taken by officers who did not identify themselves. Zhang Fangyi, based at CCECC’s camp along the Kisian-Usenge road in Kisumu where the firm is constructing the Sh2 billion Dhogoye bridge, was physically removed from his worksite by men who identified themselves as police.

    Both men were transported to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport and placed on Kenya Airways flight KQ886 to Guangzhou. The Kisumu High Court subsequently issued an injunction restraining the deportation of further CCECC personnel, with CCECC arguing in court papers that the harassment was orchestrated by business rivals who had conspired with government respondents to intimidate the firm into abandoning its procurement challenge. The potential cost to the taxpayer of the government’s inexplicable preference for the higher bidder stands at Sh7 billion, representing the differential between CCECC’s Sh22.9 billion offer and CRBC’s Sh29.5 billion award.

    MAINGA’S PRIVATE PROCUREMENT CHANNEL

    The Railway City tender is not an anomaly. It is the most recent manifestation of a procurement culture that has operated throughout Mainga’s tenure. In March 2025, the Directorate of Criminal Investigations launched a probe into a Sh88.2 million tender, reference number KR/SCM/FRC/003/2019-2020, awarded to First Choice General Supplies, a business controlled by Peninah Patricks, Mainga’s long-term fiancée.

    The irregularities documented in the tender are specific and serious. The required procurement paperwork was allegedly backdated. Payments were processed hastily in a manner that investigators found inconsistent with normal disbursement procedures. The process used restricted bidding, keeping the field of competition deliberately narrow. Most significantly, the tender value was engineered to circumvent the Sh30 million threshold established under the Public Procurement and Disposal Regulations of 2020, a threshold that triggers additional oversight and approvals. By structuring the award at Sh88.2 million but through restricted bidding, the management avoided the scrutiny that a properly competitive process would have attracted.

    The matter was placed before a legislative oversight committee, which directed further inquiry. Activist group Bunge la Mwananchi subsequently petitioned the High Court seeking, among other remedies, a forensic audit of Kenya Railways and a lifestyle audit of Mainga personally. The petition called on the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission to investigate and recommend charges to the Director of Public Prosecutions if the evidence supported prosecution.

    Mainga’s response to the accumulation of allegations against him has been characteristic. In April 2024, having learned that dismissed employees were cooperating with media organisations to expose internal malpractices, he issued stern warnings invoking CAP 187, threatening legal action against any person who disclosed official documents without authorisation. Legal experts were quick to note that the provisions he cited had been declared unconstitutional, making the threat legally hollow. But the intent was transparent: the Managing Director of a public institution was deploying state apparatus to silence those who would expose his conduct.

    LAND: THE ORIGINAL SIN

    No aspect of Mainga’s record is more extensively documented than the systematic looting of Kenya Railways land under his watch. The scale is staggering. An audit report for the year ended June 30, 2020, identified 529 parcels of railway land that had been illegally allocated to third parties without the corporation’s consent, stretching from Nairobi to Mombasa, encompassing industrial plots in Limuru, parcels at Kikuyu and Mombasa stations, and significant acreage in Nakuru.

    In Mombasa’s Shimanzi area, three prime parcels reserved for the corporation’s expansion were grabbed and transferred to private developers through forged documents and misrepresentation. One parcel was reportedly sold for Sh58.2 million and earmarked for a grain handling terminal by its new, illegitimate owners. The properties were collectively valued at over Sh100 million.

    The most audacious scheme involved the Dupoto and Dafur Settlement Scheme in Embakasi, a 90-acre parcel sitting between the flight path, the Standard Gauge Railway corridor and Nairobi National Park. Under the scheme as reported, title deeds were issued to proxies for land fraudulently allocated within the settlement. The government was then induced to compensate these proxies to vacate, transferring billions of shillings in public funds into accounts that were subsequently drained by the scheme’s architects. Over 544 parcels of public land were, under Mainga’s tenure, illegally allocated to private individuals.

    A DCI investigation was opened into these dealings. It was abruptly halted following, according to investigative sources, a call from State House. The EACC, which separately attempted to investigate the Dupoto scheme, was similarly stopped before it could proceed to any meaningful conclusion. Meanwhile, Mainga himself was summoned to DCI headquarters in May 2019, where he recorded a statement for hours over dubious land compensation payments connected to SGR Phase 2. He was called back for further questioning the following day.

    On the Makongeni container yards and buildings, Mainga is alleged to have unilaterally leased the facilities for ten years without board approval, without following internal procedures, and with full knowledge that the Kenya Ports Authority had taken possession of the property without a formal handover. The consequence was the loss of Sh23 million per month in storage and container transport charges. Across the duration of that unauthorised arrangement, Kenya Railways haemorrhaged over Sh400 million. Not a single internal disciplinary process was initiated.

    THE SGR DEBT TRAP AND THE AUDITOR-GENERAL’S VERDICT

    Beneath the catalogue of procurement fraud and land theft lies a more fundamental financial catastrophe, one that now threatens the corporation’s very solvency. The Standard Gauge Railway, financed by the China Export-Import Bank at a total cost exceeding Sh500 billion across its two phases, was projected to move 22 million tonnes of freight annually. It moves roughly a quarter of that. In the year ended June 2025, Kenya Railways posted a net loss of Sh28.17 billion and sits on negative equity of Sh121 billion.

    Auditor-General Nancy Gathungu was blunt in her assessment. Her report for the year ended June 2024 found that Kenya Railways’ failure to meet loan obligations when due had attracted avoidable expenditure of Sh34.1 billion, comprising Sh5.3 billion in penalties and Sh28.85 billion in interest. The Auditor-General was explicit: this expenditure was not a proper charge to public funds. By June 2025, arrears on the SGR loan had accumulated to Sh413.36 billion, representing 80.82 percent of the total Sh511 billion owed to the Treasury by all state corporations combined.

    The SGR escrow account has never reached its required minimum balance of Sh25 billion, a structural failure that has locked out all revenue-based loan repayments since commercial operations began. The National Treasury has had to service the loans directly while attempting to recover reimbursement from a corporation that cannot generate sufficient cash flow.

    An Africa Star Railways operating deal, executed during a predecessor’s tenure but initiated by Mainga himself, saw Kenya Railways lose up to Sh1.4 million daily through a lopsided arrangement that ran essentially unchecked. Two activists petitioned the court in 2023 alleging that irregular extensions and dealings connected to the SGR establishment had led to a loss of Sh700 billion of taxpayer funds.

    Kenya Railways sits on negative equity of Sh121 billion. Arrears on the SGR loan have reached Sh413.36 billion. The board’s response has been silence.

    Busia Senator Okiya Omtatah has told courts that Kenya Railways is, for all practical purposes, technically insolvent. The Executive and Parliament have nonetheless approved a railway project portfolio for the corporation valued at approximately Sh2.824 trillion. The juxtaposition is grotesque: a corporation drowning in debt and governance failures is being handed an even larger mandate, with no credible mechanism for accountability in place.

    CONTEMPT AS INSTITUTIONAL POLICY

    The corporation’s attitude to judicial oversight has been consistent and deeply revealing. In January 2026, the High Court, before Justice Bahati Mwamuye, issued interim conservatory orders halting construction of the Sh11 billion Riruta-Lenana-Ngong metre gauge commuter railway project pending hearing of a constitutional petition filed by Senator Omtatah together with activists Bernard Muchiri and Naomi Misati. The orders were comprehensive: no further construction, no further financing, no disbursement of Railway Development Levy funds without parliamentary approval. The orders were served electronically and physically on January 20 and 21, with all parties acknowledging receipt.

    Construction resumed on January 22, 2026, one day after service. It continued on January 24 and January 25. Misati’s lawyers issued a cease-and-desist letter on January 23 warning of the breach. It was ignored. The contempt application filed on January 28 named Philip Mainga alongside Treasury Principal Secretary Chris Kiptoo, Cabinet Secretary Mercy Wanjau, Transport Principal Secretary Mohamed Daghar, Attorney General Dorcas Oduor and CRBC General Manager Xiaodong Yu, among others.

    Kenya Railways’ response before the court was that activity on the site had been limited to securing the perimeter, a characterisation the petitioners contested as a euphemism for continued construction activity. The court varied its orders to permit works necessary for site safety, a concession the corporation appeared to receive with some relief. By March 2026, the court had ordered the disclosure of feasibility studies, procurement records, parliamentary approvals and environmental impact assessments, finding that the petitioners had established a valid constitutional basis for access to the information.

    The contempt proceedings were not the first time Mainga had been named for judicial disobedience. The pattern is structural, not incidental. When courts act, Kenya Railways management finds ways to circumvent, delay or procedurally outmanoeuvre the order rather than comply with its spirit.

    THE RECRUITMENT MARKET: POSITIONS FOR SALE

    The corruption at Kenya Railways is not confined to procurement. Internal sources have documented a pattern in which senior positions are awarded not on merit but for payment. The appointment in 2024 of Benedict Kiema Kavua, a procurement manager from Nairobi Water and Sewage Company, to the role of General Manager Procurement at Kenya Railways attracted immediate internal fury.

    Kavua is alleged to have lacked the requisite professional licence at the point of shortlisting. Two internal managers who had previously served in that position and whose experience and performance records were well-documented were passed over. Sources characterised the appointment as a direct result of a bribe paid to Mainga, and the broader wave of appointments made at the same time as a systematic purge of institutional memory ahead of the MD’s anticipated exit.

    The appointment of Stanley Cheruiyot as General Manager Business and Commercial generated similar consternation. Cheruiyot was a principal business development officer with no senior management experience. Two senior managers with demonstrated track records in that capacity were overlooked. Sources described the pattern as deliberate: Mainga was installing loyalists without institutional knowledge so that the documentation of his deals and the networks he had built would be impossible to reconstruct once he departed.

    A PENSION FUND IN TATTERS

    The victims of the Kenya Railways governance catastrophe are not abstract. They include thousands of former employees whose pension savings have been mismanaged with impunity. The EACC initiated an investigation into senior KRC officials over the alleged mismanagement of Sh8 billion designated for retirees through the Kenya Railways Staff Retirement Benefits Scheme, focusing on the scheme’s involvement in the questionable sale of 139 acres of Makongeni land.

    Five years before the EACC investigation, the DCI had already probed allegations that Kenya Railways sold prime properties belonging to the scheme at significantly reduced prices to preferred bidders, who immediately resold them at profit. Neither investigation resulted in prosecution. A parliamentary committee in 2025 directed Kenya Railways to pay outstanding pension to a former station manager who served for 17 years and had still not received his due. The committee found that administrative failures, deliberate or otherwise, had left pensioners destitute while management built personal fortunes.

    INVESTORS EXIT, QATAR FILES LEGAL NOTICE

    The cumulative effect of this governance environment on investor confidence is measurable and severe. A legal notice from a senior official of the Qatar Chamber of Commerce emerged in court proceedings, documenting unfulfilled real estate commitments made to Qatari investors in connection with the Railway City and SGR station land development programme. The accusation was that Kenya Railways had enticed foreign investors with land development promises and subsequently reneged, generating an international legal dispute that further damaged the corporation’s reputation in Gulf capital markets.

    Multiple credible local and international firms have either declined to engage with Kenya Railways procurement processes or withdrawn from negotiations after discovering the nature of the environment they would be operating in. When the lowest bidder can be disqualified not on technical grounds but through a procedural sleight of hand, then intimidated out of challenging the decision through deportation of its personnel, no rational investor with governance standards can remain at the table.

    The UK government’s involvement in financing the Railway City project amplifies the reputational stakes. British taxpayer funds are committed to a project whose procurement is now the subject of multiple court challenges and a PPARB ruling that Kenya Railways has twice refused to comply with. The Bunge la Mwananchi petition specifically sought to halt the disbursement of UK funding until a forensic audit had been conducted and governance standards established.

    WHAT THE INSTITUTIONS MUST DO

    The Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission and the Directorate of Criminal Investigations are not institutions without resources. They have the legal mandates, investigative powers, and prosecutorial pathways to act. What has been lacking, consistently, is the institutional courage to follow the evidence to its conclusion regardless of who the evidence implicates.

    The EACC must open a full forensic investigation into the Railway City tender process, examining not merely the procurement outcome but the entire chain from tender design through technical evaluation to final award and the subsequent deportation of competing bidders. It must interrogate the relationships between Kenya Railways management and both CRBC and the political intermediaries reportedly brokering contractor access. It must examine every land transaction under Mainga’s tenure, tracing money flows from fraudulent compensation schemes through the bank accounts identified in the Dupoto case to their ultimate beneficiaries.

    The DCI’s probe into the Sh88.2 million First Choice General Supplies tender must be concluded and its findings referred to the Director of Public Prosecutions without further delay. Peninah Patricks must be compelled to provide documentation of her company’s legitimate business activities preceding the award. Parliamentary committees must demand that Kenya Railways produce the full procurement file for that tender, including the backdated documentation flagged by investigators.

    The Attorney General, who is herself named as a respondent in the Riruta-Ngong contempt proceedings for failing to enforce the court’s orders, must answer for the decision to allow construction to resume within 24 hours of service. The Treasury Principal Secretary must account for the disbursement of Railway Development Fund monies for a project that a court had expressly barred from receiving such funds without parliamentary appropriation.

    The Kenya Railways board, having allowed a managing director with an expired mandate to continue exercising executive authority, must be held to account for this failure of corporate governance. The State Corporations Advisory Committee must compel an immediate competitive recruitment process for the position of Managing Director. Transport Cabinet Secretary Davis Chirchir, reportedly brought in to clean up the ministry’s affairs, must demonstrate that his mandate extends to Kenya Railways and that it is not merely rhetorical.

    The SGR debt restructuring secured in late 2025, which converted the dollar-denominated China Exim Bank loans to yuan and extended the maturity to 2040, was a necessary but insufficient measure. The Sh413.36 billion in accumulated arrears must be subject to a comprehensive public reckoning that explains, in granular detail, how penalties of Sh5.3 billion and avoidable interest of Sh28.85 billion were allowed to accrue when the Auditor-General had been flagging the problem for years.

    CONCLUSION: THE BILL ALWAYS COMES DUE

    Kenya Railways Corporation is not merely underperforming. It is actively being looted by its own leadership, and the mechanisms designed to prevent such looting have been captured, ignored or intimidated into ineffectiveness. The corporation carries the aspirations of millions of Kenyans who were promised that a modern railway network would transform the nation’s logistics, reduce congestion, lower the cost of doing business and connect communities from Mombasa to Malaba.

    Those aspirations have been subordinated to a culture of kickbacks so brazen that a tender is awarded to a higher bidder, the procurement review board is defied twice, the losing bidder’s personnel are forcibly deported, and the managing director remains in office past his contract’s expiry, protected by a board that knows exactly what it is protecting.

    The bill for this impunity is not paid by Philip Mainga or the directors who authorise the deals. It is paid by the pensioner who spent 17 years on the railway and cannot access his retirement benefits. It is paid by the communities displaced without compensation along SGR corridors. It is paid by the taxpayer servicing Sh34 billion in avoidable loan penalties. It is paid by the investor who commits capital to a procurement process, wins on merit, and watches the contract handed to a rival who paid the right people.

    Kenya cannot build a competitive economy on railways built on sand. The institutions of accountability exist. The evidence is on the record. The question that history will judge is whether those institutions chose to act when the rot was still containable, or whether they too became part of the machinery of plunder.

  • The Diplomat, the Mine Giant, and the Conservancy: Why Kenyans Are Questioning Britain’s Hand in Lewa

    The Diplomat, the Mine Giant, and the Conservancy: Why Kenyans Are Questioning Britain’s Hand in Lewa

    On the morning of March 21, 2026, the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy published a short announcement on its website: Rob Macaire, former British High Commissioner to Kenya, had been appointed its new Chief Executive Officer, effective June 1. The statement was signed by board chairman Michael Joseph, who described it as the beginning of a new era. Within hours, Kenya’s social media had made it into something else entirely.

    The backlash was immediate and ferocious. On X, formerly Twitter, the replies to the KBC Channel 1 post carrying the announcement spiralled into thousands. ‘Colonialism changed its name to conservation,’ wrote one user. ‘All our rare earth minerals in Lewa will be mined in our lifetime,’ warned another. A third was blunter still: ‘Why do whites hoard vast ranches in Laikipia while our people suffer deadly landlessness?’ By nightfall, the appointment had become more than a conservation story. It had become a sovereignty question.

    It was not the first time a decision in Laikipia had ignited such fury. But the details of Macaire’s background — a career that moved seamlessly from the British Foreign Office, to the global gas company BG Group, to the mining giant Rio Tinto, and now to the helm of Kenya’s most famous conservancy — gave the outrage a sharper edge than usual. And it arrived at a moment when Kenyan sensitivity about foreign land and resource interests was already inflamed, following weeks of national uproar over an Israeli investor’s 520-acre agricultural development in Solai, Nakuru County. The question that Kenyans were asking was not merely about one appointment. It was about a pattern.

    The Man at the Centre

    Robert Nigel Paul Macaire CMG is, by any conventional measure, a distinguished British public servant. Born in 1966 and educated at Cranleigh School and St Edmund Hall, Oxford, where he read Modern History, he joined the Ministry of Defence in 1987 before transferring to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office in 1990. His diplomatic postings read like a tour of the world’s strategic pressure points: Bucharest, Washington, New Delhi, Nairobi, and finally Tehran, where he served as Ambassador to Iran between 2018 and 2021. In January 2022, after returning from Tehran, he joined Rio Tinto as Chief Adviser for UK and International Affairs, focusing on political risk and government relations.

    It is that Rio Tinto chapter that has done more to fuel Kenyan suspicion than any other fact in Macaire’s biography. Rio Tinto is one of the largest mining corporations in the world, with active operations in iron ore, copper, aluminium, lithium, and a suite of minerals central to the global clean energy transition. The company does not currently hold publicly disclosed exploration licenses in the Laikipia or Meru zones where Lewa sits. But Rio Tinto’s brand is inseparable, in the public imagination, from large-scale extraction of African resources — and Macaire’s jump from its corridors to a 62,000-acre Kenyan conservancy has struck many observers as, at the very least, an unusual career detour.

    Before Rio Tinto, Macaire spent five years as Director of Political Risk for BG Group plc, a major global natural gas company later absorbed by Shell. A 2021 investigation by Declassified UK noted that Macaire left his Nairobi posting to join BG Group, making him one of dozens of senior British diplomats who moved through a revolving door between the Foreign Office and the energy and extractive sectors. For Kenyan critics, that revolving door turns in one direction: toward Africa’s resources.

    Lewa’s board, chaired by Michael Joseph — himself the former chief executive of Safaricom — offered a different reading. ‘We are entering a new era of conservation that requires a leader who can engage the global boardroom and the local community,’ Joseph said in a statement. ‘Rob’s diplomatic experience and commitment to Kenyan heritage give him the vision and grit to lead Lewa’s next chapter.’ The conservancy outlined three strategic priorities under Macaire: securing a long-term financial endowment, deepening community agency in conservation decisions, and strengthening its position as a global conservation leader.

    Supporters have also pointed to Macaire’s personal connection to Kenya. His wife Alice, during their Nairobi posting between 2008 and 2011, founded and chaired the initiative that led to the restoration of Karura Forest, a landmark urban conservation project in Nairobi. But in a country where the wounds of land dispossession remain raw, personal affection for Kenya and professional association with some of the world’s largest resource extraction corporations are not seen as mutually exclusive propositions.

    The Land Beneath the Sanctuary

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    The land that is now Lewa Wildlife Conservancy was allocated to the Craig-Douglas family by the British colonial government in 1922. For more than fifty years, it was managed as a cattle ranch known as Lewa Downs. The family’s patriarch, Alexander Douglas, and his wife Elizabeth Cross, moved onto the land and ran it as an agricultural enterprise for decades. Their daughter Delia Craig, born in Kenya in 1924 and raised on the ranch, would become the conservancy’s matriarch, surviving the Mau Mau rebellion and choosing naturalised Kenyan citizenship at independence. It was Delia who first reserved a portion of the land for conservation, and it was her son Ian Craig who would transform the ranch into one of Africa’s most celebrated wildlife sanctuaries.

    In 1983, Ian Craig partnered with Anna Merz, a conservationist who provided funding, to establish the fenced Ngare Sergoi Rhino Sanctuary on the western edge of Lewa Downs. Kenya’s black rhino population had collapsed catastrophically: from an estimated 20,000 animals in the mid-1970s to fewer than 300 by the mid-1980s, decimated by poaching and the insatiable global demand for horn. The sanctuary gathered the remnants of northern Kenya’s rhino population and placed them under armed guard. White rhinos from South Africa were later added. By 1993, the sanctuary had expanded to encompass the entire ranch. In 1995, the Lewa Wildlife Conservancy was formally constituted as a non-profit organisation. In 2013, UNESCO inscribed it as an extension of the Mount Kenya World Heritage Site. In 2014, the fence between Lewa and the adjacent Borana Conservancy was removed, creating the Lewa-Borana Landscape, a contiguous 93,000-acre ecosystem that now hosts one of the largest rhino populations in East Africa.

    Today, Lewa holds over 12 per cent of Kenya’s eastern black rhinoceros population and the world’s largest single population of Grevy’s zebras. Its anti-poaching record has been among the best on the continent. The conservancy supports over 200,000 people through health clinics, schools, water projects, and microenterprise programmes in the surrounding communities of Meru, Laikipia and Isiolo counties. Outgoing CEO Mike Watson, a former helicopter pilot who took the helm fifteen years ago, is widely credited with transforming a successful private sanctuary into a global conservation benchmark. His retirement on August 1, 2026 closes a chapter that even Lewa’s fiercest critics acknowledge has been consequential.

    What lies beneath the earth, however, is a separate and far less settled question. In February 2020, the Laikipia County Government released a mineral exploration report commissioned from the national Ministry of Mining. The findings were striking. The county’s basement rocks, particularly in Laikipia North, were found to contain iron ore, titanium-rich sands, rare earth elements, bauxite, kaolin, garnet, sillimanite, bentonite, and aluminium-rich laterites. Sand rich with titanium and rare earth elements was specifically identified at Ilpolei in Mkogodo West. Iron and aluminium laterites were found at Suguta Ranch, Lonyiek, Kirimon and Suiyan. Governor Ndiritu Muriithi acknowledged at the launch: ‘Our people have always known there are some valuable materials underfoot. This information has been known for a century at the very least.’

    That report described only the surface of what the county’s geology may contain. It was, as the lead geologist himself admitted, ‘just the first baby step.’ Crucially, he noted that his team ‘did not have access to some areas.’ The conservancies, with their perimeter fences, armed rangers, restricted entry, and private land status, are among the most comprehensively inaccessible tracts in the county. No independent geological survey of the land beneath Lewa’s core sanctuary has been made publicly available. The Kenyan government has not disclosed whether any exploration licenses have been applied for or granted in the Lewa-Borana Landscape. That silence has become, for a certain class of Kenyan critic, deafening.

    The broader context of Kenya’s mineral wealth makes the question harder to dismiss. Mrima Hill in Kwale County has been assessed as one of the world’s top five rare earth deposits, with an in-ground mineral value estimated at over Ksh 5.4 trillion. Kenya’s Kwale coast hosts titanium sands now being actively mined. Turkana holds proven oil deposits. The northern rangelands sit atop basement geology that has barely been scratched. A country that for decades was not considered a significant mining nation has quietly become one of Africa’s most actively prospected frontiers.

    The Conservancy Question

    The concerns about Lewa do not exist in isolation. They are part of a much wider, much older, and increasingly documented debate about the nature and purpose of Kenya’s conservancy model — and about who, ultimately, holds power in what has become one of the most heavily conservancy-fenced countries on the continent.

    Today, Kenya’s conservancies, private ranches, and protected areas together cover more than 20 per cent of the country’s land. The Laikipia plateau alone, covering 9,532 square kilometres, has 48 large-scale ranches sitting on 40.3 per cent of its total land area. Some of the largest are still owned by descendants of British colonial settlers. Three ranches dominate the landscape: the Laikipia Nature Conservancy at 107,000 acres, Ol Pejeta at 88,923 acres, and Loisaba at 62,092 acres. Lewa, at 62,000 acres, is a close fourth.

    The Northern Rangelands Trust, founded in 2004 by Ian Craig — Lewa’s co-founder — has since established 43 community conservancies across 42,000 square kilometres of northern and coastal Kenya, covering nearly 8 per cent of the country’s total land area. The NRT’s model has attracted enormous praise from international conservation organisations and Western donors, including USAID, the European Union, and The Nature Conservancy, the wealthiest conservation NGO in the United States. It has also attracted fierce criticism from the communities it claims to serve.

    In January 2025, Kenya’s Environment and Land Court delivered a landmark ruling that the NRT had established two conservancies in Cherab and Chari wards in Isiolo County unconstitutionally, without proper community consent, and on unregistered trust lands. The court found that the NRT’s armed rangers operated illegally, and directed the Kenya Wildlife Service to revoke all relevant licences. The ruling was described as one of the most significant legal checks on the conservancy model in Kenyan history. It followed years of community protests, with the Turkana County Government having expelled the NRT entirely in 2016. The Samburu Council of Elders had written to international donors in 2021 requesting a funding audit. In Isiolo, community members reported systematic harassment, land access restrictions, and in some cases extrajudicial killings.

    A July 2025 joint report by Avocats Sans Frontieres and the International Federation for Human Rights went further. It documented how NRT’s operations in Isiolo had created a situation in which communities experienced the conservancy not as a partner in development, but as a dominating force replacing state authority and controlling their land and lives. The conservancies, the report found, served as tourist parks and carbon removal projects in which companies including Netflix and Meta purchased offset credits — while the communities whose ancestral lands underpinned those credits had no formal legal basis for ownership and no meaningful access to the revenue streams their land was generating.

    A careful comparison of mining concession maps and conservancy boundaries, carried out by analysts writing for The Elephant, found that at least nine NRT-affiliated conservancies had mining concessions inside or adjacent to their boundaries. These included Kalepo, Meibae, Nannapa, Narupa, Naapu, Naibunga Lower, Naibunga Central, Sera, and Biliqo Bulesa — collectively affecting Samburu, Turkana, Maasai, and Borana communities. The NRT also signed a US$12 million, five-year agreement in 2015 with British oil company Tullow Oil and Canadian Africa Oil Corp to establish and operate six community conservancies in Turkana and West Pokot Counties — areas then under active oil exploration. Critics argued that the conservancy model, in those instances, was functioning as a social licence mechanism for resource extraction: placing communities in structured relationships with conservation NGOs before the extraction companies arrived.

    The British Army Training Unit Kenya adds a further, rarely discussed dimension to the British footprint in Laikipia. Under a Defence Cooperation Agreement signed at independence, up to six British infantry battalions, representing approximately 10,000 soldiers per year, conduct eight-week exercises on Kenyan land in Laikipia County and at Archer’s Post. BATUK’s main installation, the recently expanded Nyati Barracks, is located adjacent to Laikipia Air Base in Nanyuki. The county government’s own records confirm that by 2009, BATUK had expanded its training grounds to 11 privately owned ranches, including Sosian, Ol Maisor, and the Laikipia Nature Conservancy. In March 2021, a fire started during BATUK training at the Lolldaiga Conservancy destroyed over 10,000 acres and generated litigation that continues to this day. The British military presence, the private ranch network, the conservation NGO ecosystem, and the diplomatic class all operate within the same Laikipia geography. For many Kenyans, that convergence is not coincidental.

    The Israeli Parallel

    It is impossible to understand the intensity of the Lewa reaction without understanding what had just happened in Solai. In mid-February 2026, Kenyan journalist Alex Chamwada broadcast a promotional segment featuring Erez Rivkin, an Israeli investor who has spent fifteen years building a 520-acre agricultural and residential development in Solai, Nakuru County. Rivkin described the site as ‘a dreamland’ where Israelis and Kenyans would integrate, live together, and raise their children side by side. He spoke of creating a community.

    The response was national and visceral. Hundreds of thousands of Kenyans on social media described the project as a kibbutz-style settlement, evoking the 1903 Uganda Scheme — in reality a proposal for Jewish settlement in what is now Kenya’s Uasin Gishu plateau — in which Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain offered land to Zionist leader Theodor Herzl as a refuge from European pogroms. The Zionist Congress rejected the offer in 1905. For many Kenyans watching Rivkin’s segment, the century-old episode felt disturbingly current. Commentators also invoked the 2018 Solai dam tragedy, in which nearly fifty people died when an unlicensed earth dam burst, flooding communities in the same area where Rivkin’s development now stands.

    The legal and factual picture is more nuanced. Kenya’s 2010 Constitution and Land Act prohibit foreign nationals from owning freehold land; they may hold land on leasehold for a maximum of 99 years. Rivkin’s operation appears to be structured through a registered Kenyan entity. No evidence has emerged of any Israeli state connection to the Solai project, and the Kenyan government had issued no statement on the matter as of mid-February. Defenders of the project, including some Kenyan commentators, argued that the outrage was overheated and that the development creates local employment in a region that needs it.

    But the legal position and the political reality are different things. In a Kenya where unresolved land grievances go back to the colonial period, where the land question has triggered election violence, and where a significant portion of the best agricultural and conserved land remains under foreign-linked control, the symbolism of a British diplomat turned Rio Tinto executive taking the helm of a 62,000-acre UNESCO World Heritage Site arriving within weeks of the Solai controversy was politically toxic. The two stories fused in public discourse, creating a single narrative about foreign powers and their local allies quietly securing Kenya’s most strategic assets — whether through the language of conservation, investment, or development.

    A Century of Accumulation

    The land Lewa sits on was granted to a British colonial family in 1922, while Kenya was under Crown administration and Kenyans had no political standing to contest such allocations. The Craig family, to their credit, chose to remain after independence, took Kenyan citizenship, and committed substantial personal resources and decades of their lives to a genuine conservation mission. The rhino population recovery at Lewa is real. The community programmes are real. The UNESCO designation is a recognition of real conservation achievement. None of that is fabricated.

    But it also cannot be separated from the fact that the land’s foundational title derives from a colonial allocation, that the family that holds it has always been British-linked, that its founding director Ian Craig went on to create the NRT, an organisation now found by Kenyan courts to have overstepped its authority on community land, and that its new chief executive arrives from the world’s most powerful resource extraction company. Each individual fact has an innocent explanation. Together, they form a pattern that Kenyans are under no obligation to find reassuring.

    The Laikipia plateau, which contains Lewa and the country’s densest concentration of large privately held conservancies, sits on basement geology confirmed to contain titanium, rare earth elements, iron ore, and associated minerals. The global strategic importance of rare earths, driven by the clean energy transition, has accelerated enormously in the past decade. China controls over 60 per cent of global rare earth production and a comparable share of processing capacity. The United States, the European Union, and the United Kingdom are all pursuing aggressive diversification strategies. Kenya, with confirmed deposits at Mrima Hill in Kwale, probable deposits in Laikipia, and a government still struggling to exercise regulatory authority over its northern rangelands, is a target of active interest from Western mineral strategists.

    In that context, the appointment of a former British intelligence-aligned diplomat who spent his post-Kenya career at a gas company and then at Rio Tinto to run one of Kenya’s most strategically located and geologically under-surveyed conservancies is, at minimum, a question that deserves a serious answer. It may have an entirely innocent one. But the Kenyan public is not obligated to assume innocence in the absence of transparency.

    The Unanswered Questions

    There are questions that Lewa Wildlife Conservancy has not yet publicly addressed, and that the Kenyan government has not required it to answer. Has any geological survey been conducted of the mineral subsoil beneath the Lewa-Borana Landscape, and if so, by whom, and with what results? Have any exploration license applications been filed by any party covering the core conservancy land or its immediate surrounds? Does the conservancy’s land title, held by a non-profit entity, carry any sub-surface mineral rights, and if so, who controls them? Did Rob Macaire, during his time at Rio Tinto, advise on any projects related to East Africa or Kenya specifically? What was the nature of Lewa’s search for a new CEO, and were African candidates considered? What is the conservancy’s position on the conduct of the NRT, which Ian Craig founded on the Lewa model, and with which Lewa has maintained close institutional ties?

    None of these questions is answered by the appointment announcement. Lewa has said nothing publicly about the online furore. Its official communications continue to focus on rhino protection statistics, community health clinic numbers, and Grevy’s zebra census data. Those are real achievements. But the silence on the structural questions is itself a data point.

    The conservancy operates on land that falls under the legislative framework of Kenya’s 2010 Constitution, the Land Act, the Community Land Act of 2016, the Wildlife Conservation and Management Act, and the Mining Act. The Kenya Wildlife Service issues its operational licences. The National Land Commission has oversight authority over historical land allocation grievances. The Ministry of Mining oversees exploration licensing. None of these institutions has publicly weighed in on the Macaire appointment or on the related questions about mineral subsoil rights and access. Parliament has not held hearings. The National Land Commission has not commented.

    The accountability gap is significant. It is not unique to Lewa. It runs through the entire architecture of Kenya’s conservancy sector, which has grown from a handful of private ranches in the 1990s to a network covering nearly a fifth of the country’s land, funded primarily by foreign donors, governed largely by private boards, and operating with a degree of opacity that would not be permitted in the formal public sector. The NRT’s court losses in 2025 demonstrated that that opacity has legal limits. What those limits are in practice, and who enforces them, remains unresolved.

    The Sovereignty Question

    Kenya gained formal independence in 1963. Sixty-three years later, the country’s most celebrated wildlife conservancy is led by a succession of expatriate executives — outgoing CEO Mike Watson, a former helicopter pilot, was himself a non-Kenyan — on land allocated to a British colonial family in 1922, managed through an institutional network with deep ties to British diplomatic and corporate circles, situated on ground that independent geological surveys confirm contains strategic minerals, and funded substantially by Western donors whose strategic interests in African resources are not hidden.

    It is possible that all of this is entirely benign: that Lewa is what it says it is, that Macaire’s mining background is professional coincidence, that the mineral speculation is community anxiety projecting onto institutional opacity, and that the conservancy model, for all its documented problems in the NRT context, represents at Lewa a genuine and enduring partnership between a British-linked institution and the Kenyan communities it serves. That reading is defensible.

    It is also possible that the conservancy model, at its most sophisticated expression, functions as something more complex: a mechanism by which large tracts of geologically significant Kenyan land are held in a form of institutional custody by entities whose ultimate accountability is to international boards, foreign donors, and a network of diplomatic and corporate interests that does not answer to the Kenyan taxpayer, does not appear before the National Assembly, and does not register its mineral subsoil arrangements with the Ministry of Mining. That reading is also defensible.

    What is not defensible is the current level of opacity. If Lewa’s land contains no minerals of commercial significance, it should be able to say so on the basis of a publicly disclosed, independently conducted geological survey. If no exploration licenses have ever been filed over the Lewa-Borana Landscape, the Mining Registry should be able to confirm this. If Rob Macaire’s Rio Tinto role had no connection to East Africa, he should be able to say so directly and publicly. The absence of these clarifications is not a proof of wrongdoing. It is an invitation to precisely the kind of speculation that Lewa is now drowning in.

    Kenyans are not asking Lewa to stop protecting rhinos. They are asking it to be a Kenyan institution in a way that matters: transparent about what lies beneath its land, accountable to the communities around it, and honest about who its new chief executive is and what he brings from the corridors of global resource extraction. That is not neo-colonialism in reverse. That is what sovereignty looks like.

    A Pattern Across the Plateau

    Lewa is not alone in attracting such scrutiny. Ol Pejeta Conservancy, at 90,000 acres the largest in Laikipia, was purchased in 2004 by the UK-based charity Fauna and Flora International with funding from the Arcus Foundation, a private American philanthropic vehicle. Borana Conservancy, at 32,000 acres, operates immediately adjacent to Lewa and has merged its wildlife ecosystem with it. Lolldaiga Conservancy, where BATUK conducts annual military training exercises and where a British Army fire destroyed over 10,000 acres in 2021, is a 49,000-acre private ranch. Loisaba Conservancy, at 62,000 acres, sits on the northern edge of the plateau. The Laikipia Nature Conservancy, at 107,000 acres the largest single private holding in the county, sits on land whose sub-surface has been even less publicly surveyed than Lewa’s.

    Across these conservancies, the pattern is consistent: colonial land allocations, converted from ranching to conservation after independence, now operating as private non-profit institutions with international boards, Western donor dependency, restricted community access, and varying degrees of accountability to the Kenyan state. The individual conservation achievements are genuine. The structural accountability questions are unresolved. The mineral subsoil remains a closed book.

    The Laikipia County Government’s own 2020 mining report acknowledged that its geological survey teams did not have access to some areas of the county. Those areas are, in significant measure, the conservancies. The county allocated Ksh 10 million in its 2020-2021 budget to initiate artisanal mining operations in areas where access exists. The areas where it does not exist are governed by private fences, private security, and private boards — some of whose members sit in London, Washington and New York.

    Rob Macaire takes the helm of Lewa Wildlife Conservancy on June 1, 2026. He will inherit a conservancy with a genuine conservation record, a board that includes respected Kenyan figures alongside its international members, and a community programme infrastructure that reaches hundreds of thousands of people. He will also inherit a political environment that has fundamentally changed since his predecessor took the job fifteen years ago.

    Kenya in 2026 is not Kenya in 2011. The youth who drove the Gen Z protests of 2024 and who have elevated land sovereignty to a primary political concern are not going to accept opacity from an institution as prominent as Lewa without sustained pressure. The courts that ruled against the NRT in January 2025 have demonstrated that the legal frameworks for community land rights and conservancy governance have teeth. The National Land Commission, embattled as it is, has a constitutional mandate to investigate historical land injustices that extends to colonial-era allocations. Parliament has the authority to summon the Mining Registrar and ask, on the record, whether any party holds or has applied for exploration licenses beneath the Lewa-Borana Landscape.

    Whether any of those mechanisms will be deployed remains to be seen. Kenya’s political class has historically been comfortable with the conservancy ecosystem, which provides high-end tourism, philanthropic networks, and social capital that flows upward from Nanyuki to Nairobi. The same leading political families that have stakes in Laikipia real estate are not natural advocates for aggressive mineral transparency in the plateau.

    What is clear is that the Macaire appointment has cracked open a conversation that was always going to happen, and that was always going to be this uncomfortable. The question of who controls Kenya’s land, who benefits from what lies beneath it, and whether the conservation model as practiced across Laikipia represents genuine partnership or sophisticated continuation of colonial resource holding is not a question that social media fury invented. It is a question that has been building for decades in academic journals, land courts, community meetings, and the oral histories of Samburu elders who remember when the fences went up and where they walked before.

    Rob Macaire may be exactly what Lewa’s board says he is: a diplomat of genuine personal commitment to Kenya, a financier of conservation endowments, a bridge-builder between the conservancy world and the global institutions that fund it. Or he may be something more layered. What Kenyans are entitled to demand is that they do not have to choose between those possibilities on the basis of a press release and an institutional silence.

    The rhinos at Lewa are not the story. The story is what lies beneath them, who knows, and who decides.

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  • THE HANDSHAKE THAT BECAME A NOOSE: How Tuju’s Alleged Intimate Access to EADB’s Yeda Apopo Produced a Sh294 Million Deal With No Written Contract, and Why That Trust Destroyed an Empire

    THE HANDSHAKE THAT BECAME A NOOSE: How Tuju’s Alleged Intimate Access to EADB’s Yeda Apopo Produced a Sh294 Million Deal With No Written Contract, and Why That Trust Destroyed an Empire

    There is a category of transaction that does not exist in the formal architecture of development finance. It has no name in the regulatory manuals that govern lending institutions from Kampala to Nairobi, no clause in the standard form agreements that are drafted by international lawyers billing at three hundred dollars an hour, and no mention in the governance frameworks that development banks present to their shareholders at annual general meetings.

    And yet it is the category into which, according to testimony that has surfaced across a decade of litigation, the most consequential portion of the loan that destroyed Raphael Tuju’s business empire quietly fell. It is called trust.

    In the wreckage of what was once a billion-shilling development, as armed police stand at the gates of Dari Restaurant and receiver managers prepare inventories of assets that Tuju built over three decades, this is the detail that nobody in the mainstream coverage of the EADB-Tuju dispute has examined with sufficient rigour: the second tranche of the 2015 loan facility, a sum variously described in court documents as Sh270 million to Sh294 million, the tranche that was supposed to fund the construction of luxury housing units whose sale would have serviced the entire debt, does not appear to have been governed by the same contractual rigour as the first. And the only credible explanation for why a businessman of Tuju’s sophistication would proceed on that basis lies in the identity of the person who ran the East African Development Bank when the loan was made.

    That person was Vivienne Yeda Apopo. She held the title of Director General for sixteen years and nine months, from January 15, 2009, until December 31, 2024, three months before police showed up at Tuju’s gates.

    She was, by any measure, one of the most powerful bankers in the East African region during the period when Kenya’s political and business elite were building the empires that they now fight to preserve.

    And the question that the courts, operating within the narrow procedural confines of foreign judgment enforcement, have never been required to answer is this: what was the precise nature of the relationship between Vivienne Yeda Apopo and Raphael Tuju, and did that relationship substitute for contractual certainty at the moment when certainty mattered most?

    The written contract bound Tuju absolutely. The alleged verbal assurance about the second tranche bound nobody. That asymmetry is the architecture of destruction.

    THE ARCHITECTURE OF A CONVENIENT DEAL

    To understand what happened, it is necessary to understand what EADB is and who controls it. The bank was established in 1967 under the treaty of the original East African Community and was re-established under its own charter in 1980 after the collapse of that union.

    Its founding members were Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda. Rwanda joined as the fourth Class A member state in 2008. But the bank’s shareholding extends well beyond the four governments.

    Class B institutional shareholders include the African Development Bank, the Netherlands Development Finance Company, the German Investment and Development Company, SBIC-Africa Holdings, Standard Chartered Bank in London, Barclays Bank in London, and, critically, the Commercial Bank of Africa.

    That last name is not incidental. The Commercial Bank of Africa, known as CBA before its merger with NIC Group to form NCBA in 2019, was effectively the house bank of the Kenyatta family.

    The Kenyattas, through an investment vehicle called Enke Investments Limited, controlled 24.91 percent of CBA, making them the single largest private shareholders. President Uhuru Kenyatta’s family was therefore a double shareholder in EADB at the time the Tuju loan was made: once as the Government of Kenya, which holds one of the four sovereign stakes in the bank, and again through CBA’s institutional Class B shareholding.

    The former Finance Minister who presided over the period when Yeda Apopo was appointed Director General was none other than Uhuru Kenyatta himself, who held the Treasury portfolio from 2001 to 2005 and had been deeply embedded in the bank’s political oversight architecture when Yeda Apopo rose through its ranks.

    Yeda Apopo had been at the EADB since at least 2006, serving as Director of Legal Affairs before being appointed to the top post in January 2009.

    By the time Tuju approached the bank in 2015 for funding for his Karen project, she had been Director General for six years.

    She sat on the board of the Central Bank of Kenya, had received the African Banker of the Year Award in May 2014, and had been named Business Leader of the Year by the Africa-America Institute in October 2014. She was, in the language of East African business, a woman of consequence.

    And she was Kenyan, in a bank that her own staff would formally accuse, in 2016, of favouring Kenya to the disadvantage of its other member states.

    A MAN WITH THE PRESIDENT’S EAR

    Tuju, in 2015, was not merely a borrower. He was a Cabinet Secretary without portfolio in Uhuru Kenyatta’s administration, a position that placed him in the inner sanctum of executive power.

    He was also Secretary-General of the Jubilee Party, the ruling coalition, which made him one of the most politically connected individuals in the country.

    He had previously served as Minister for East African Community under President Kibaki, giving him a history of direct engagement with the regional institutions that operated under the East African Community framework, of which the EADB is one.

    For a Director General seeking to maintain relevance in Nairobi, to secure the goodwill of the government that was simultaneously a sovereign shareholder and an indirect institutional shareholder through the Kenyatta family’s CBA stake, and to avoid the scrutiny that her own staff were beginning to direct at her management, Tuju was not a difficult case to approve.

    He was, by the internal political logic of the institution, the right kind of borrower: powerful, connected, and capable of running interference against the kind of parliamentary and governmental oversight that was already beginning to shadow her tenure.

    Staff within EADB had already begun to raise concerns about the manner in which Yeda Apopo was running the institution.

    A formal petition, which would become public in 2016 when The East African newspaper obtained it, accused her of approving projects from her home country while sitting on applications from Uganda, Tanzania, and Rwanda.

    The petition, copied to Kenya’s Treasury, demanded her immediate termination.

    It described a director general who frustrated viable projects from other member states while ensuring that Kenyan applications moved smoothly through the system.

    The Tuju loan, approved in April 2015, fits precisely that pattern. It was a Kenyan project, brought by a Kenyan political heavyweight, approved by a Kenyan director general, at a bank where Kenya was a double shareholder.

    Whether any personal relationship existed between Tuju and Yeda Apopo, as has been speculated in social media posts dating back to at least November 2020 and revived with considerable intensity in March 2026 as the Karen property seizures unfolded, the structural conditions for preferential treatment were more than sufficient on their own.

    Kenya was a double shareholder. The borrower was a cabinet minister. The lender was a Kenyan director general whose own staff accused her of running the bank as a Nairobi franchise. The political geometry was perfect.

    THE TRANCHE THAT WAS NEVER WRITTEN DOWN

    The loan agreement signed on April 10, 2015, between EADB and Dari Limited, Tuju’s company, was, on its face, a commercial document of reasonable sophistication.

    It was governed by English law, with disputes to be resolved in London, a choice that would prove catastrophic for Tuju’s defence when enforcement proceedings eventually commenced.

    It provided for a facility of $9.3 million, the disbursement of which was secured by charges over Tuju’s Entim Sidai property, his Tamarind Karen development, and the Dari Business Park, as well as personal guarantees from Tuju himself and his three children.

    The first tranche, approximately Sh932.7 million, was disbursed on July 29, 2015, and used to purchase the 94-year-old Victorian bungalow built by Scottish missionary Albert Patterson, which would become the centrepiece of the Dari Restaurant and Wellness project.

    The second tranche, approximately Sh294 million, was intended for the construction of high-end maisonettes on the property, the sale of which was the mechanism by which the loan was meant to repay itself.

    Thirty three-bedroom units on one parcel, eight five-bedroom units on another. The mathematics were straightforward: sell the units, retire the debt.

    But the second tranche, according to testimony that David Odongo, then EADB’s Kenya Country Manager, gave under cross-examination during Kenyan court proceedings, was structured differently from the first.

    Tuju’s legal team has consistently argued, and Odongo’s testimony appeared to support, that the disbursement of the second tranche was governed not by the four corners of the written facility agreement but by representations made outside it.

    The written agreement described conditions for disbursement.

    But the understanding of how and when those conditions would be satisfied, and indeed of whether they were conditions at all or merely administrative formalities that would be resolved through the relationship between the parties, appears to have operated on a different plane entirely.

    This is the missing link.

    The written contract bound Tuju absolutely. The alleged verbal assurance about the second tranche bound nobody. That asymmetry is the architecture of destruction.

    When Tuju’s team sought to introduce Odongo’s testimony as new evidence in 2024, seeking a review of the 2020 High Court decision that had adopted the UK judgment against him, the application was dismissed with a ruling that has become one of the most cited sentences in this litigation: the court said it would not permit a collateral attack on a final and valid foreign judgment already recognised and upheld on appeal.

    The Supreme Court of Kenya, when Tuju took his case to the apex court, was equally unsparing.

    Five justices, including the Deputy Chief Justice, found that the petitioners had not validated their averments with any proof.

    The allegations were described as bare and unsubstantiated.

    But the courts were not asked to evaluate whether the verbal representations were made. They were asked to evaluate whether those representations, even if made, could override a written contract governed by English law and already reduced to a London judgment. The answer to the second question is no. The first question was never properly examined.

    THE GRAVITY OF INSTITUTIONAL ACCESS

    To understand why a man of Tuju’s business experience would proceed on the basis of verbal assurances rather than written commitments, one must understand the gravitational pull of proximity to power in the Kenyan institutional environment.

    In 2015, Tuju was not dealing with a commercial bank whose loan officers operated within clearly defined matrices of credit authority.

    He was dealing with a regional development bank whose Director General had held her position for six years and whose decision-making, according to her own staff, had become increasingly concentrated at the apex of the institution.

    The EADB’s governance structure places the Governing Council, comprising the finance ministers of the member states, at the apex, with the board below it and the Director General responsible for day-to-day management.

    In practice, development banks of this size and complexity develop what practitioners call executive dominance, a tendency for the Director General’s personal judgement to substitute for collective institutional processes.

    The 2016 staff petition against Yeda Apopo described precisely this phenomenon: projects approved by senior management were stopped by the Director General without documented justification, while other projects she favoured moved through the system regardless of what the management recommendation said.

    If, in this environment, the Director General indicated to a borrower, through whatever channel, that the second tranche would be forthcoming once the first was deployed and the project had begun to take shape, a borrower operating in the Kenyan political economy would have had every reason to treat that indication as binding.

    Not because it was legally binding, but because in Nairobi in 2015, the word of a person of Yeda Apopo’s institutional stature, given to a person of Tuju’s political stature, carried a weight that no written contract needed to replicate.

    This is not a defence of Tuju’s financial management.

    The loan went into default in the second quarter of 2016, barely a year after disbursement. Only one interest payment was made, in October 2015.

    The grace period expired, the demand letters were ignored, and the international arbitration that followed produced a judgment that Kenyan courts have consistently upheld.

    Whatever verbal assurances were made, the written obligations were not met.

    But the question of why the obligations were not met, why the project that was supposed to generate the cash flow to service the loan never got off the ground, cannot be answered without examining the second tranche.

    And the second tranche cannot be examined without confronting the circumstances under which it was structured.

    THE OTHER DEALS THAT DIED THE SAME DEATH

    The Tuju case is not the only EADB lending relationship during Yeda Apopo’s tenure that followed this pattern.

    The 2020 reporting on the dispute by Kahawatungu identified at least three other projects that suffered what it described as the same fate: Quality Health Limited of Tanzania, where funds were allegedly disbursed for purposes other than those approved; the Kwale International Sugar Company, where a Sh2 billion agreement was signed but funds withheld after new conditions were introduced mid-stream; and the Infinity Industrial Park in Kenya, where $10 million was approved and offer letters executed before disbursement was declined following the imposition of new conditions.

    The pattern is consistent.

    An initial approval, sufficient to secure the borrower’s commitment and, in several cases, the pledging of security.

    A subsequent refusal to disburse on the basis of conditions that either were not in the original agreement or were introduced after the borrower had already committed to the project.

    The effect, in each case, is to leave the borrower exposed: the security is pledged, the project is underway or anticipated, but the funding that would make the project viable has been withheld.

    Whether this pattern was deliberate, systemic, or the product of individual lending decisions that simply went wrong is a question that falls outside the scope of this article.

    What it does establish is that the Tuju situation was not anomalous. It was one of several cases in which the gap between what was approved and what was disbursed became the site of the borrower’s destruction.

    Yeda Apopo had reduced the bank’s non-performing loan ratio from 26 percent in 2009 to 0.88 percent in 2024. The instrument of that reduction was aggressive recovery. The fuel for that recovery was the gap between approval and disbursement.

    THE BANKER WHO LEFT BEFORE THE RECKONING

    Vivienne Yeda Apopo retired on December 31, 2024. Three months later, armed police sealed the Dari Business Park.

    The timing is not conclusive of anything, but it is suggestive of the manner in which institutional accountability operates in the East African regional architecture.

    Her departure was announced with the language of celebration. The EADB described it as the conclusion of an outstanding 17-year career.

    Her successor in the interim was Benard Mono, the bank’s head of finance, pending a recruitment process.

    The bank she left behind was, by the metrics she had championed, a success: non-performing loans at 0.88 percent, down from 26 percent when she took over in 2009.

    That reduction was the signature achievement of her tenure.

    It was also, in the view of Tuju and at least three other borrowers, the product of recovery strategies that prioritised the bank’s balance sheet over the borrowers’ ability to complete the projects for which they had borrowed.

    She had survived multiple challenges during her tenure. The 2016 staff petition was investigated by Ernst and Young on the board’s recommendation.

    Its findings were not made public. In May 2023, then Treasury Cabinet Secretary Njuguna Ndung’u convened a meeting to deliberate on her term, raising questions in Nairobi’s financial circles about whether her position was finally under threat.

    She survived that too, remaining in post until the voluntary retirement that the bank characterised as entirely on her own terms.

    In November 2022, MP Joseph Makilap of Baringo North had risen in Parliament to table a pointed question: was there not a conflict of interest in the circumstance that the Director General of the bank that had provided the loan to finance the Lake Turkana Wind Power project was simultaneously serving as chairperson of the board of Kenya Power, the entity that was a party to the power purchase agreement arising from that loan? The question was never satisfactorily answered in parliament.

    Yeda Apopo was eventually pushed out of the Kenya Power chairmanship by the incoming Kenya Kwanza administration in 2022, but she retained the EADB directorship until her retirement.

    By the time she left, the EADB had spent $4.4 million in legal fees between 2016 and 2024 while declaring zero dividends to its shareholder governments, according to testimony presented to the East African Legislative Assembly by a civil society petition in September 2025.

    The largest single recovery action that consumed those legal fees was the Tuju case, pursued through London arbitration, the UK High Court, the Kenya High Court, the Kenya Court of Appeal, and eventually the Supreme Court of Kenya.

    Yeda Apopo’s departure meant she would not be present to answer for any of it.

    WHAT THE SILENCE CONCEALS

    Neither Tuju nor Yeda Apopo has made any public statement addressing the nature of their personal relationship.

    The social media posts that alleged a romantic connection between them, circulating from at least November 2020 and resurging in March 2026 as the property seizures became front-page news, remain unverified by any official record.

    Tuju’s court filings describe the second tranche’s non-disbursement as the cause of his default.

    They do not, in the filings that are part of the public record, attribute the initial loan to any personal relationship.

    What the filings do establish, read in conjunction with the testimony that Tuju sought to introduce as new evidence, is that there were representations made outside the written agreement that Tuju believed would be honoured.

    What they also establish is that a former EADB country manager, in sworn testimony, appears to have confirmed that the loan was structured in two phases in a manner that was not fully reflected in the contractual documentation.

    The courts declined to examine those representations because the procedural pathway to doing so was closed.

    The UK judgment came first.

    The Kenyan recognition of that judgment came second.

    Every subsequent attempt to introduce evidence that might have qualified or changed the outcome of those proceedings was dismissed as an attempt to relitigate matters already determined. That is not a failure of justice in the technical legal sense. But it is a failure of the full truth to emerge.

    And in that gap between legal process and full truth sits the relationship between Tuju and Yeda Apopo. Whatever its precise character, it was a relationship between two Kenyans at the apex of their respective spheres of influence, operating in an institution whose governance was already compromised by the kind of concentrated personal authority that makes verbal assurances feel as solid as signed documents.

    It was a relationship that, by the internal logic of EADB’s decision-making during Yeda Apopo’s tenure, made the Tuju loan possible on terms that a more arms-length process might not have produced.

    That relationship, whatever its character, appears to have been the invisible third party to the 2015 transaction.

    It is what substituted for the contractual certainty of the second tranche. It is what made a Sh294 million commitment feel real without ever being reduced to paper.

    And when it ended, or when its protections ceased to operate, what remained was a written security package that gave EADB everything it needed to enforce, and a borrower whose only defence depended on oral representations that no court was willing to evaluate.

    On March 14, 2026, three months and fourteen days after Vivienne Yeda Apopo retired from the East African Development Bank, armed police and uniformed officers arrived at Dari Restaurant and Business Park on the Ngong Road in Karen.

    They sealed the compound, changed the locks, and handed possession to the receiver managers appointed by EADB. Raphael Tuju stood outside the gates he could no longer enter and spoke directly to the cameras in the language of a man who understands public narrative.

    He described what was happening as a political assault. He invoked the constitution and the rule of law. He called the seizure an act of state-directed violence against a businessman who had tried to build something worth building in a country that should want more of the same. He was eloquent and composed, and he was, by any measure, a man watching the product of decades of work disappear behind a padlock that bore another institution’s name.

    Whether the story he told that night was the full story is the question that this investigation has sought to examine.

    The loan was real. The default was real. The judgment was real. The enforcement was legal. All of that is beyond dispute. But between the loan and the default, between the signing and the seizure, there was a phase of this transaction that has never been fully examined, a phase governed not by paper but by the assurances of a powerful woman to a powerful man in an institution where power was concentrated enough to make such assurances feel sufficient.

    That phase, and the relationship that made it possible, is the untold story of how Raphael Tuju lost Dari.

    NOTE

    This investigation is based on sworn court filings from proceedings in England and Kenya, testimony recorded during cross-examination of EADB witnesses, a formal staff petition submitted to the EADB Board of Governors and widely published in 2016, parliamentary records including the Hansard of the National Assembly of Kenya dated November 23, 2022, the EADB’s official shareholding disclosures, public records of the Commercial Bank of Africa’s ownership structure, and reports of proceedings before the East African Legislative Assembly. No court has found as a matter of fact that any personal relationship, romantic or otherwise, existed between Raphael Tuju and Vivienne Yeda Apopo, and neither party has confirmed or denied such a relationship on the record. The allegations of a personal relationship circulating in social media are presented here as unverified. Nairobi Law Monthly makes no finding on this question. EADB has not responded to queries specific to this investigation at the time of publication. Vivienne Yeda Apopo could not be reached for comment.

  • American Couple Busted in Multimillion Tax Evasion as KRA Crackdown Exposes Smuggling Syndicate Involving Senior Officials

    American Couple Busted in Multimillion Tax Evasion as KRA Crackdown Exposes Smuggling Syndicate Involving Senior Officials

    Inside a nondescript industrial park in Kamakis on the eastern fringes of Nairobi, Kenya Revenue Authority enforcement officers converged on a shipping container being quietly offloaded under the cover of routine logistics activity.

    The container, numbered MAGU5438993, had sailed from the United States, been logged through the port at Mombasa, cleared through the Compact Special Economic Zone in Nairobi under circumstances that investigators now describe as deeply irregular, and was within hours of vanishing into the wholesale trade networks that supply Kenya’s sprawling urban markets.

    What happened next would unravel one of the most audacious tax evasion and smuggling operations to surface in Kenya in recent memory.

    The seizure at Viken Thirty Industrial Park was no accident. It was the product of a whistleblower within the KRA’s own ranks, who had leaked evidence of the irregular clearance to the Commissioner General’s office.

    The informant’s tip set off a chain of events that now has Interpol involved, a Kenyan-American dual citizen identified as the alleged architect of the scheme on the police radar, and a clutch of senior KRA verification officers facing interdiction proceedings that could end their careers and place them before criminal courts.

    The man at the alleged centre of this web is Peter Mwaniki Maina, a Kenyan national holding dual American citizenship who investigators believe ran a highly coordinated smuggling ring with both international and domestic tentacles.

    His second wife, Stacy Wangari Njiri, who reportedly resides in an upmarket residence along Kiambu Road in Nairobi, is accused of being the key local operator, overseeing the deconsolidation, storage and redistribution of imported contraband goods into the Kenyan market.

    The two have been publicly promoting a logistics company called Arisilva Logistics across social media, a venture investigators suspect was used to provide a legitimate commercial veneer for an operation that was, in substance, anything but.

    Neither Maina nor Njiri had, at the time of publication, been formally charged. Investigators caution that the case remains active and the identities of other participants have not been fully established. Attempts to reach Arisilva Logistics through publicly listed contact details were unsuccessful before publication.

    THE MECHANICS OF THE FRAUD

    The scheme, as reconstructed by investigators, was built on the exploitation of two well-known vulnerabilities in Kenya’s customs administration: insider access within the KRA’s verification systems, and the structural generosity of the returning residents tax exemption programme.

    Under Kenyan law, citizens who have lived abroad and are permanently returning home are entitled to import personal effects, household goods, and one motor vehicle free from import duty, excise duty, value added tax, and import declaration fees.

    The exemption is administered through the Integrated Customs Management System, and is a legitimate and widely used facility.

    However, investigators allege that Maina, by virtue of his dual citizenship and apparent familiarity with the process, manipulated the scheme using falsified documentation and fake identities to pass off commercial consignments as personal imports, thereby evading millions of shillings in taxes on goods that were never intended for personal use.

    The specific container seized at Kamakis had arrived in Kenya aboard the vessel CMA CGM Puccini on February 21, 2026, shipped by ECU Worldwide USA from an American port and forwarded through Compact FTZ Development Ltd and Compact Freight Systems.

    KPA tracking records reviewed by investigators showed the container entered via rail link to the inland container depot and was formally cleared by customs with an approval number and a release stamp before being dispatched for offloading at the Kamakis industrial facility.

    The fact that it carried a customs release notation despite allegedly containing undeclared goods pointed, investigators said, to the unmistakable hand of an insider.

    Sources familiar with the probe say that the shipment is believed to have contained undeclared merchandise, with suspicions extending to counterfeit goods and possibly illicit substances, a development that has widened the scope of the investigation from a pure revenue offence to one with potential public health implications.

    If that suspicion is confirmed, the legal exposure for everyone in the clearance chain expands considerably beyond tax fraud into organised crime territory.

    THE BROADER CRACKDOWN AT MOMBASA PORT

    The Kamakis seizure did not happen in isolation. It is part of a wider enforcement wave that KRA announced on March 18, 2026, in which six of its employees, including senior officials, were interdicted and 21 cargo clearing agents had their licences suspended following investigations at the Port of Mombasa that uncovered a separate but related scheme. In that operation, the KRA recovered Sh452.5 million after investigators discovered that consignments of imported cargo had been passing through the port without properly settled tax obligations.

    The mechanics of that scheme were equally audacious. Invoices were logged into both the KRA’s iTax system and the Integrated Customs Management System purporting to show that taxes had been paid, with the payments apparently recorded as M-Pesa to M-Pesa transactions. When investigators traced the mobile numbers linked to those transactions, they found no corresponding M-Pesa statements to confirm the money had actually moved. The invoices were, in effect, digital ghosts: they existed on paper but corresponded to nothing in the real financial world. A batch of mobile phone numbers was then reverse-traced to specific individuals, drawing a direct line from the fraudulent records to the KRA staff and clearing agents who have since been interdicted or suspended.

    The KRA, confirming the purge in a statement, warned that the investigations were ongoing and that more individuals could be snared as investigators widened their scrutiny of transactions across both the iTax and iCMS platforms. The taxman has also looped in the Directorate of Criminal Investigations, which is now examining the owners of the implicated cargo, not just the agents who cleared it. “These investigations target not only clearing agents but also importers and any other parties who may have participated in or benefited from the fraudulent activities,” the KRA said.

    A PORT CHRONICALLY VULNERABLE TO ORGANISED CRIME

    Mombasa’s port has long been identified as Kenya’s most exposed trade gateway. It processes the bulk of the country’s import and export traffic and sits astride some of the most significant regional trade corridors in East Africa. That combination of volume and strategic importance has made it a perennial target for sophisticated criminal networks.

    The rice scandal of 2025, in which 199 containers of imported rice valued at over Sh120 million disappeared from port custody and found their way into the market without passing through proper inspection, demonstrated the depths to which insider collusion could compromise even a digitised system.

    KRA’s own enforcement staff had their system access rights revoked in that case, and enforcement managers at container freight stations were replaced in an attempt to restore integrity. The reverberations of that case were still being felt when the latest dual scandal broke.

    Kenya has separately seen a pattern of high-value goods being smuggled under false commodity declarations: luxury vehicles listed as household items, stolen Range Rovers and Mercedes vehicles shipped as transit cargo and then diverted locally, untaxed cigarettes concealed in containers labelled as something else entirely.

    In January 2026, KRA intercepted 9.37 million sticks of contraband cigarettes worth Sh281.1 million at Mombasa, with the haul declared as originating from Cambodia via Singapore but stamped “Made in Sudan.” That operation involved a multi-agency team including port police, the Kenya Bureau of Standards, the Anti-Counterfeit Authority, Port Health Services, and KPA customs officers.

    In the most recent wave, KRA also announced the seizure of 23 smuggled prime movers in Nairobi’s Industrial Area, found to have tampered chassis numbers and registration plates spanning South Africa, South Sudan, Zambia, Uganda, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Tanzania, pointing unmistakably to a cross-border criminal network of considerable reach.

    Experts note that criminal networks have become adept at exploiting three perennial weaknesses: tax exemption regimes susceptible to document fraud, insider collusion within customs and port agencies, and the sheer volume of containerised traffic that makes 100 percent physical verification practically impossible without intelligence-led targeting.

    Forged passports are used to falsely qualify for tax waivers. Bribery within clearance chains enables goods to slip through systems that are, on paper, robust.

    INTERPOL AND THE TRANSNATIONAL DIMENSION

    The involvement of Interpol in the Maina investigation has elevated the case beyond a domestic enforcement action. Investigators now believe the syndicate may have international supply chain linkages that could require coordinated cross-border arrest operations and asset tracing across multiple jurisdictions.

    Maina’s dual citizenship and the American origin of the seized container give the case a transnational texture that domestic law enforcement alone is ill-equipped to untangle.

    If charges are eventually laid and proven, the suspects face exposure under multiple legal frameworks, including the East African Community Customs Management Act, Kenya’s Tax Procedures Act, and potentially the Proceeds of Crime and Anti-Money Laundering Act.

    International dimensions of the offence could trigger extradition proceedings, a realistic prospect given the United States’ robust bilateral law enforcement cooperation agreements with Kenya. Organised crime and trafficking offences of this nature carry penalties that can include substantial custodial terms.

    KRA’S INSTITUTIONAL OVERHAUL

    The back-to-back scandals have arrived at a particularly uncomfortable moment for the KRA, which has been projecting an image of aggressive modernisation and enforcement capacity.

    The taxman recently appointed Mohamed Abdul M’maka, a former field intelligence officer and troop commander in the Kenya Defence Forces with more than two decades of experience in intelligence and security, as the new Commissioner for Investigations and Enforcement. M’maka, who had been serving as chief manager for intelligence collection since August 2025, was brought in specifically to tighten the fight against tax evasion, smuggling, and revenue leakage.

    The authority is also procuring an Intelligence Analysis Tool to function as a centralised intelligence repository for its Investigations and Enforcement Department, enabling agents to collect, store, and analyse large volumes of data drawn from multiple sources including social media, government registries, and partner agencies. The Business Registration Service is already supplying data that allows KRA officials to track company ownership, directorship structures, and registration histories. The system is intended to help tax detectives build advanced taxpayer profiles and identify fraud patterns before they escalate to the scale seen at Mombasa.

    The internal graft numbers tell their own story. According to KRA records, seven employees were dismissed for corruption-related offences in the first quarter of the 2023/24 financial year, rising to nine in the second quarter. By the first quarter of 2024/25, that figure had leapt to 25, before falling slightly to 19 in the second quarter. The trend suggests either that the problem is growing or that the KRA’s capacity to detect and act on it has sharpened considerably. Probably both.

    SYSTEMIC QUESTIONS THE SCANDAL CANNOT AVOID

    The Maina case and the Mombasa port crackdown together raise a set of questions that Kenya’s customs and revenue authorities will struggle to deflect. How many similar containers have passed through the Compact SEZ or the Port of Mombasa under equally irregular circumstances without triggering an internal whistleblower? How deep does the KRA verification department’s exposure to organised criminal networks actually run? And critically, if a dual citizen operating a logistics company on social media could apparently coordinate the importation, internal clearance, and Nairobi-bound distribution of a container of contraband goods with the assistance of senior verification officials, what does that say about the state of integrity within one of Kenya’s most consequential revenue institutions?

    The DCI, Interpol, and KRA’s own Investigations and Enforcement Department are now working through those questions. Whether the answers, when they come, will be limited to Peter Mwaniki Maina and his wife, or whether they will reach further into the bureaucratic structures that gave the scheme its operational space, is the question that will determine the real significance of this investigation. In Nairobi’s legal and enforcement circles, the betting is that the names already known are merely the surface of something considerably deeper.

  • ‘Punish Them Heavily If They Are Playing Games’: Inside the Fuel Cartel’s War Against the Kenyan Consumer

    ‘Punish Them Heavily If They Are Playing Games’: Inside the Fuel Cartel’s War Against the Kenyan Consumer

    The queues are back. The dry pumps are back. The excuses are back. And, if the evidence emerging from Kenya’s petroleum sector is any guide, so too is the corporate playbook that transformed a localized supply concern into a nationally orchestrated shakedown in 2022. This time, the architects of the crisis have cloaked their operation in the fog of war, invoking the Middle East conflict as justification for what is, at its core, a premeditated squeeze on the Kenyan consumer.

    Mohammed Hersi, the immediate past chairman of the Kenya Tourism Federation and one of the country’s most credible private-sector voices on matters of economic governance, has had enough. In a statement that detonated across social media and industry boardrooms with equal force, Hersi posed the question that government regulators appear to lack the courage to ask: has any new shipment, purchased at the higher war-era prices, actually landed in Kenya? The answer, as EPRA’s own data confirms, is an unambiguous no. The logical conclusion from that fact is one that the industry’s lobby groups would rather the public did not dwell upon.

    “You should punish Shell Vivo heavily if they are playing games,” Hersi stated, directing his sharpest fire at the company whose green-and-yellow livery dominates Nairobi’s street corners. Hersi’s target was deliberate. So is ours.

    Screenshot

    THE ARCHITECTURE OF A MANUFACTURED CRISIS

    To understand what is happening in Kenya’s forecourts, one must first understand what is not happening in the Strait of Hormuz as far as Kenyan consumers are concerned.

    The Iran conflict is real. Its disruption of global shipping is real. Crude oil prices, having hovered near USD 63 per barrel in February 2026, rocketed past USD 100 per barrel in the weeks following the military strikes of February 28.

    The closure of the Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly 20 percent of the world’s daily oil supply passes, is the most significant supply disruption the global energy market has witnessed in decades.

    None of that justifies what is happening at Kenya’s pumps right now. None of it. And here is precisely why.

    EPRA, in its March 14 price announcement, was admirably transparent about the data underlying its decision to freeze pump prices for the March 15 to April 14 cycle.

    The regulator’s Director General, Daniel Kiptoo Bargoria, stated explicitly that the calculations were based on vessels received and discharged between February 10 and March 9, 2026. He then added the sentence that the industry does not want repeated: “Most of these vessels are February-priced cargoes and the effect of the situation in the Middle East has not had an effect on the prices yet.”

    Read that sentence again. The fuel sitting in the tanks at Vivo’s Nairobi and Mombasa depots, the fuel that Rubis, TotalEnergies, Ola Energy and other marketers are rationing, was bought and imported at pre-war prices.

    The conflict began on February 28. The bulk of Kenya’s March stock was already in transit or had already been discharged before that date. The “war premium” that Unepa chairperson Irene Kimathi is now screaming about does not apply to a single litre of fuel currently in the country. Charging Kenyans crisis prices on pre-crisis stock is not a market reality. It is profiteering.

    Murban crude oil, Kenya’s pricing benchmark, stood at just USD 63.06 per barrel in February 2026, down sharply from USD 80.22 in March 2025. The exchange rate has held remarkably stable, with the shilling anchored near 129 to the dollar.

    The EPRA price stabilization fund recorded a deficit on diesel of just Sh6.53 per litre and Sh6.66 on kerosene, figures well within manageable bounds before the war’s effects on new cargo manifested. The dealers are not bleeding money on current stock. They are sitting on inventory purchased at favorable prices while demanding that prices be reset to reflect a crisis that has not yet hit their balance sheets.

    VIVO ENERGY: THE MARKET LEADER, THE LOUDEST SILENCE

    In the Kenyan petroleum market, size confers power. Vivo Energy, the Vitol Group-owned operator of Shell-branded stations across 23 African countries, is the undisputed market leader in Kenya, controlling approximately 20 percent of the retail market by volume.

    That dominance gives the company an outsized ability to shape supply conditions, pricing signals and public perception. It also gives the company an outsized responsibility that it is conspicuously failing to honour.

    When fuel stations began running dry this week, the most affected outlets in Nairobi were, by multiple credible accounts, Shell-branded.

    A spot check confirmed that the company’s outlet at Kipande House ran out of diesel on Monday morning, with petrol stocks expected to be depleted the same day.

    Stations along Magadi Road and in Kiserian had been intermittently dry since the weekend. This was not an isolated malfunction at a single pump. It was a pattern.

    Vivo Energy Kenya CEO Peter Murungi’s response to these developments was a masterclass in corporate deflection. High consumption over a long weekend, he said.

    Supplies would be replenished. He was, he said, unaware of any fuel crisis. “I am not aware of any fuel crisis to be frank,” Mr Murungi told Business Daily. “It is just a long weekend with high consumption.”

    This from the CEO of a company that, according to its own regulatory filings, is legally required to maintain minimum stocks of petrol and diesel lasting 20 and 25 days respectively.

    This from the CEO of a company that, in April 2022, had executives summoned to the Directorate of Criminal Investigations to account for precisely this kind of market manipulation.

    This from the CEO of a company whose parent group, Vitol, is one of the world’s largest independent energy traders, with the market intelligence to know exactly what is in its tanks, what is en route, and what the gap between purchase price and proposed selling price would yield on the order of millions of litres.

    The silence of Vivo Energy in the face of mounting evidence of supply manipulation is not merely corporate caution. It is an insult to a country it has profited from for over a decade.

    THE 2022 PRECEDENT: THIS SCRIPT HAS BEEN READ BEFORE

    The most damning aspect of the current crisis is not that it is happening. It is that it has happened before, with the same actors, using the same methods, to the same effect. Those who forget their history, as the saying goes, are condemned to repeat it. Those who engineer their history are condemned by it.

    In April 2022, Kenya was gripped by a fuel shortage that lasted three weeks. Motorists queued for hours. Diesel, critical for the transport sector that keeps food moving, was virtually impossible to find.

    The Energy Cabinet Secretary at the time, Ambassador Monica Juma, stood outside the Kawi complex and called it what it was: economic sabotage. “We have been witness to an action that has distorted the market and supply chains, created artificial shortages, caused panic and anxiety, negatively affected productivity,” she said.

    The government had the data to prove it. EPRA’s own stock records showed the country had over 212 million litres of petrol in strategic storage while forecourts were supposedly running dry. The fuel was there. It was simply not being moved.

    The Directorate of Criminal Investigations was deployed.

    Executives from ten oil marketing companies, including Vivo Energy, TotalEnergies, Ola Energy, Gapco Hass Petroleum, Petro Oil, Galana Oil, and Lake Oil Petroleum, were summoned and interrogated. The government invoked the Energy (Minimum Operational Stock) Regulations, 2008, which carry a penalty of two years in prison or a fine of up to Sh2 million.

    The government invoked the Petroleum Act, which categorizes deliberate market manipulation as economic sabotage, a capital offence. The CEO of Rubis Energy Kenya, Jean-Christian Bergeron, was deported and had his work permit revoked.

    What happened next is the most important lesson for 2026. Prices were reviewed upward. The “shortage” evaporated.

    The fuel that had been invisible in Nairobi reappeared at filling stations across the country within days of the price hike.

    There were no criminal convictions. There was no accountability. The playbook worked, and the industry knows it.

    As Juma herself observed at the time, some marketers had even been diverting cargo earmarked for Kenya into the regional export market in Uganda, Rwanda, and the Democratic Republic of Congo, “to further enhance their abnormal profits.”

    Fast forward to March 2026. Unepa’s Kimathi is using almost identical language to 2022, warning that prices are unsustainable and that dealers will halt sales.

    Lawmaker Nelson Koech has publicly named “speculation, panic buying and hoarding, particularly hoarding by oil marketers in anticipation of a price jump” as the primary driver of current demand surges.

    POAK chairman Martin Chomba has confirmed that dealers are likely to hold back stock in anticipation of a price hike.

    The Petroleum PS, Mohamed Liban, delivered a statement during Koech’s live television interview confirming the government’s view: the shortages are primarily the result of hoarding, not genuine supply disruption.

    The script is the same. The only question is whether the government’s response will also be the same, which is to say, toothless.

    THE COMPENSATION SCANDAL: PAYING THE ARSONIST FOR FIGHTING THE FIRE

    As if hoarding were not audacious enough, reports have now emerged that EPRA is considering a compensation mechanism for oil marketing companies, pegged at approximately Sh11 per litre on excess fuel volumes imported during the March pricing cycle.

    The Consumers Federation of Kenya, COFEK, has fired a broadside at this proposal in a letter addressed directly to Energy Cabinet Secretary Opiyo Wandayi, and the federation’s concerns deserve to be treated as a matter of urgent national policy.

    COFEK’s central argument is legally and morally sound: EPRA does not possess a compensatory mandate. Its role under the Petroleum Act 2019 is to regulate, not to subsidize.

    By channeling public funds to oil marketing companies as a make-whole payment for inventory that was imported at pre-crisis prices, EPRA would effectively be converting a windfall opportunity for the companies into a taxpayer-funded guarantee. It would be rewarding behavior that the PS has already characterized as hoarding. It would be paying the arsonist to fight the fire they lit.

    The optics are staggering.

    Kenya is a country where the government is simultaneously asking ordinary citizens to absorb the cost of a housing levy, a social health insurance contribution, and a fuel levy of Sh7 per litre that MP Ndindi Nyoro has called deeply regressive.

    Against that backdrop, the prospect of the regulator siphoning public money into the coffers of Vivo Energy, TotalEnergies, and Rubis is politically explosive and economically unconscionable.

    THE REGIONAL REALITY: NOBODY ELSE IS BUYING THE STORY

    The oil lobby’s argument that the war necessitates an immediate emergency price revision in Kenya collapses when measured against what is happening in the country’s immediate neighbors.

    Uganda, Tanzania, and Rwanda all face the same global supply disruption.

    All three are landlocked or near-landlocked economies heavily dependent on the same Indian Ocean shipping lanes through which Kenya’s fuel also passes. None of them have capitulated to the narrative that existing stock must be repriced at war-level rates.

    In Tanzania, the Petroleum Bulk Procurement Agency has reported reserves of 230 million litres of petrol, sufficient for 38 days, and 180 million litres of diesel, sufficient for 47 days.

    When accounting for incoming shipments already en route, Dar es Salaam’s effective cover extends to 78 days of petrol and 50 days of diesel.

    The government has not entertained emergency price hikes on existing inventory. It has instead called a sectoral meeting, reviewed its supply chain, and communicated transparently with the public. Dar es Salaam is doing what Nairobi should be doing.

    In Uganda, the government has gone further, publicly warning petroleum companies against what it has characterized as “superficial” pump price increases.

    Kampala has maintained that immediate fuel supply remains secure and has made clear that it will not accept manipulation of market pricing on inventory purchased at pre-conflict rates.

    That position, from a landlocked country that cannot even reach Mombasa without transiting Kenya, is a direct rebuke to the argument being made by Nairobi’s oil lobby.

    The African fuel price survey for March 2026 presents a broader picture that is equally instructive. While the global average retail price per litre has nudged upward modestly to approximately USD 1.34, multiple African countries including Tanzania, Uganda, and Rwanda have avoided the dramatic spikes that the Kenyan oil lobby is now demanding. Some countries in the region have even recorded price declines.

    The idea that Kenya alone must act immediately to protect oil marketer margins on pre-war stock is not a market argument. It is a negotiating position dressed up as one.

    SHIPPING DATA: WHEN THE FACTS DON’T FIT THE NARRATIVE

    The shipping data emerging from the Port of Mombasa is, admittedly, genuinely alarming, but not for the reasons the oil lobby would have you believe.

    Reports indicate that of approximately 52 vessels expected at the port through early April, none is scheduled to carry petroleum products.

    That is a real supply gap. It is a supply gap caused by the war, by the closure of the Strait of Hormuz, by the rerouting of vessels to the longer Cape of Good Hope passage that adds weeks to transit times and significantly inflates freight costs.

    This is the legitimate face of the crisis, and it is a crisis that Kenya will eventually have to confront with an honest price conversation.

    But here is what the lobby groups refuse to acknowledge: that future crisis is not this present manufactured shortage.

    The oil marketers are using a real, looming problem as cover for a present, self-created one.

    The incoming supply disruption, which will genuinely affect cargoes purchased at post-war pricing, is being conflated with the current stock, purchased at pre-war pricing, to create the impression that an emergency price hike must happen now, on existing inventory, before the actual crisis materially arrives. It is a bait-and-switch of extraordinary cynicism.

    It is also worth noting that the International Energy Agency, which has characterized the current situation as the greatest energy security challenge in its history, has coordinated the release of nearly 400 million barrels of emergency crude from member country reserves specifically to stabilize global prices.

    That intervention is designed to moderate precisely the kind of price shock that the Kenyan oil industry is trying to pass on to the consumer in unmodified form. Kenya may not be an IEA member, but the stabilizing effect of that release on global markets benefits Kenyan importers whether they acknowledge it or not.

    KENYA’S STRATEGIC VULNERABILITY: THE STRUCTURAL PROBLEM NOBODY WANTS TO SOLVE

    The current crisis exposes a structural weakness in Kenya’s energy security architecture that has been talked about, reported on, and ignored for years. Kenya’s legal framework requires oil marketing companies to maintain operational stocks of 20 days of petrol and 25 days of diesel.

    In practice, most marketers maintain reserves of between 15 and 18 days, leaving the country dangerously exposed to any disruption lasting more than a fortnight.

    The National Oil Corporation, which holds the statutory mandate to maintain 90-day strategic reserves, has been financially paralyzed for years and holds virtually nothing of consequence.

    This is not a regulatory accident. It is a regulatory failure that is structurally advantageous to the major oil marketing companies. Thin strategic reserves create scarcity conditions faster, scarcity conditions justify price hikes faster, and faster price hikes on existing stock translate directly into windfall margins. If Kenya held 90-day strategic reserves as international standards require, no oil marketer could manufacture a shortage in the space of a weekend.

    The structural failure is, in a very meaningful sense, the business model.

    By comparison, Tanzania’s PBPA centralized procurement model has delivered buffers exceeding 47 days on diesel without emergency measures. Uganda has maintained functional reserves.

    Both countries are poorer than Kenya on a per capita basis. The difference is not resources. It is political will and regulatory courage.

    THE TOURISM SECTOR PAYS THE PRICE. AGAIN.

    Mohammed Hersi’s fury is not merely the outrage of a Twitter commentator. It is the anguish of an industry that depends on cheap, reliable fuel in ways that the petroleum boardrooms prefer not to contemplate.

    Tourism is, by the Tourism Research Institute’s own data, Kenya’s second-largest source of foreign exchange after diaspora remittances, contributing over 10 percent of GDP.

    It is an industry built on game drives, bush flights, airport transfers, generator-dependent lodges and cold chains that cannot afford interruption.

    Hersi has watched the cost of fuel rise by over 70 percent in the two years preceding this latest crisis. His contracts with tour operators, signed months or years in advance, leave him exposed when input costs shift suddenly.

    Every artificial shortage, every manufactured price hike, every weekend of rationed diesel is a cost that tourism operators cannot pass on in real time. It is a cost absorbed by the margins of businesses that already operate under intense competitive pressure from regional destinations.

    It is a tax on Kenya’s ability to position itself as a world-class destination, levied not by the government but by oil marketers in pursuit of abnormal profits.

    Hersi’s call to “punish Shell Vivo heavily” is therefore not irrational anger. It is the rational demand of a sector participant who has run out of patience with a recurring pattern of market manipulation that inflicts disproportionate harm on businesses that cannot hedge, cannot diversify their energy sources overnight, and cannot wait for regulatory courage to materialize at the pace of bureaucratic comfort.

    WHAT THE LAW ACTUALLY SAYS, AND WHAT MUST NOW HAPPEN

    Kenya is not without legal tools.

    The Energy Act 2019 grants EPRA sweeping powers to investigate, sanction, and where warranted, revoke the licenses of companies found to be in breach of minimum stock requirements or found to be manipulating supply. Section 99 of the Petroleum Act explicitly prohibits the sale of fuel above regulated maximum prices. Show-cause letters were issued in 2022.

    Deportations were ordered in 2022. The apparatus of enforcement exists. It has simply not been applied with sufficient consistency to create a deterrent.

    Energy Cabinet Secretary Opiyo Wandayi has assured the public that Kenya holds adequate reserves and that supply is secure.

    If that assurance is accurate, and the government’s own data suggests it is, then the shortages being reported at filling stations across Nairobi, Eldoret, Kitale, and rural areas of the North Rift are not a supply problem.

    They are a conduct problem. They are the product of deliberate decisions by oil marketing companies to withhold product from the retail market in anticipation of a price hike. That is the definition of economic sabotage under Kenyan law. It should be prosecuted as such.

    EPRA must not compensate oil marketing companies for existing stock. That proposal should be withdrawn immediately. What EPRA must do, instead, is dispatch inspection teams to the bulk storage depots of every major oil marketer in the country, cross-reference actual stock levels against EPRA’s own data, and prosecute every company found to be holding stock below the required minimum while simultaneously withholding product from the retail market. The law is clear. The mandate is clear. The only thing that is unclear is whether the regulator has the political backing to use it.

    Wandayi must make that backing explicit, in public, and today. CS Monica Juma did it in 2022. It worked. The fuel appeared. The lesson is available. The question is whether this government has the stomach to apply it.

    CONCLUSION: THE NATION IS WATCHING

    Kenya stands at a precipice whose contours should by now be familiar. The oil cartel is running the same play it ran in 2022. The lobby groups are using the same language. The Vivo pumps are running the same dry-station theater.

    The government is issuing the same assurances of adequate supply while the industry ignores them. The difference in 2026 is that the public has a longer memory, a shorter tolerance for corporate impunity, and a louder platform from which to demand accountability.

    The fuel in Kenya’s tanks was bought at prices that reflect a world before February 28, 2026. Selling it at prices that reflect a world after February 28, 2026, is not market economics. It is extraction.

    It is a transfer of wealth from Kenyan consumers and businesses to the balance sheets of multinational petroleum corporations that have, in the case of at least one company, faced criminal investigation in this country for doing precisely this before and suffered no lasting consequence.

    Mohammed Hersi is right. The punishment must fit the crime. And the crime, if the evidence leads where it appears to lead, is economic sabotage, not a market adjustment. EPRA has the law. The government has the mandate.

    The public has the patience of a country that is watching very closely. The only remaining question is whether the “thugs in suits” will be held to account this time, or whether they will once again be rewarded with an upward price review and walk away with the country’s money in their pockets.

    This publication will be watching.

  • Safaricom Handed DCI Tuju’s Real-Time Location Data Without a Court Order Say Critics — Then He Was Arrested, Beaten and Denied Hospital as His Condition Deteriorates

    Safaricom Handed DCI Tuju’s Real-Time Location Data Without a Court Order Say Critics — Then He Was Arrested, Beaten and Denied Hospital as His Condition Deteriorates

    The most dangerous revelation to emerge from the arrest of former Cabinet Secretary Raphael Tuju on Monday was not that the DCI believes he faked his own disappearance.

    It was the casual, almost incidental manner in which DCI Director Mohammed Amin disclosed that investigators had obtained precise, timestamped phone location data on a sitting Kenyan citizen — within hours of a missing person report — without producing a single piece of paper showing a court had authorised it.

    That disclosure, buried inside a press briefing designed to humiliate Tuju, has detonated a far larger conversation about Safaricom’s role as what critics are now openly calling the intelligence arm of the Kenyan state — a company that tracks, traces and hands over subscriber data to security agencies on demand, constitution and data protection law notwithstanding.

    By Monday evening, the debate had acquired a human face: Tuju, a man who underwent spinal surgery in 2020 with metal plates inserted into his vertebrae, was sitting on a plastic chair inside Karen Police Station in visible agony.

    Doctors from Karen Hospital were crouched around him. His lawyers said officers had been given strict orders from above not to allow him to be transferred to a proper medical facility.

    Tuju getting medical attention from the police station as his condition deteriorated.

    Outside the gate, Wiper Patriotic Front leader Kalonzo Musyoka, former Attorney General Justin Muturi, DAP-K leader Eugene Wamalwa, Senator Dan Maanzo and constitutional scholar PLO Lumumba had planted themselves and were not moving.

    WHAT THE DCI REVEALED — AND WHAT HE DID NOT

    Amin’s press briefing was intended to be a moment of institutional triumph. Instead it handed Tuju’s lawyers, the Law Society of Kenya, and privacy campaigners the single most incriminating public statement yet made by a Kenyan security chief about the telco-state surveillance pipeline.

    Standing before cameras at DCI headquarters, Amin announced that forensic analysis had established, without an iota of doubt, that Tuju had never left his Mwitu Drive Karen residence during the entire period of his reported disappearance. Investigators knew, the DCI boss said, that Tuju’s phone was switched off at exactly 18:18 hours on Saturday, March 21 — and that at the moment it went dark, the device was inside his compound.

    That is not information a police officer deduces from observation. That is telecommunications data: call detail records and cell tower triangulation, held exclusively by Safaricom as the network operator, tied to Tuju’s registered SIM. Obtaining it in real time, within hours of a missing person report being filed, requires — under Section 31 of Kenya’s Data Protection Act and Article 31 of the Constitution — a court order or equivalent judicial authorisation. Amin mentioned no such order. None has been produced. None has been shown to Tuju’s legal team. None has been cited in any subsequent police document.

    Safaricom did not issue a statement. It has not been asked by any official body to explain the basis on which it released the data. The Office of the Data Protection Commissioner, which has jurisdiction over exactly this type of alleged breach, had also not commented as of Monday evening.

    ‘DCI-SAFARICOM AXIS OF EVIL’

    On X, hundreds of posts made the connection within minutes of Amin’s briefing airing on Citizen TV. One widely shared post stated: “DCI chief confirming that Safaricom gave them all access to track, trace, dox and geolocate Tuju’s phone number, including the exact time it was switched off. DCI didn’t get a court order. DCI-Safaricom axis of evil.” Another, rephrasing the legal concern in starker terms, read: “What the DCI is conveying is that Safaricom, without authorisation from Tuju, provided Tuju’s private information to the DCI to track his whereabouts. Safaricom is a government entity that is putting vulnerable Kenyan citizens at risk.”

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    Legal observers pointed out a detail that sharpened the concern considerably: Amin stated that investigators had simultaneously sought a court-sanctioned search warrant to enter Tuju’s compound after the family denied them access. That warrant application confirms investigators knew they needed judicial authority to enter a building. They appear to have formed no equivalent view about obtaining the telecommunications data that told them what was inside it.

    THE COURTS HAVE ALREADY HEARD THIS STORY

    The Tuju case has arrived at the worst possible moment for Safaricom’s public position. Its long-standing assurance that subscriber data is only released on receipt of a valid court order has been contradicted, in open court, by one of its own employees.

    In February 2026, Moi University student David Ooga Mokaya was acquitted by Nairobi magistrate Caroline Nyaguthi after a Safaricom employee, Daniel Hamisi, testified that a senior DCI officer, Michael K. Sang, had obtained Mokaya’s subscriber details, call records and precise location data in November 2024 by writing a letter. No court order.

    When defence counsel Ian Mutiso asked the DCI officer whether he knew judicial authorisation was required, the officer admitted he did not know. Mokaya, whose life was effectively derailed by a prosecution built on unlawfully obtained data, is now suing Safaricom for Sh200 million in damages. A High Court restraining order bars the telco from sharing his data further, with the matter set for mention on March 30.

    The Law Society of Kenya last week moved to scale that individual case into a systemic constitutional reckoning. Its petition, filed in the Milimani Constitutional and Human Rights Division, names Safaricom, the DCI, the Inspector General of Police, the DPP, the National Forensic Lab and Kenya Power as respondents.

    The LSK alleges an organised conspiracy to illegally surveil Kenyan citizens, drawing a direct line from Mokaya’s case to the mass surveillance of Gen-Z protesters during the 2024 demonstrations. The petition demands a court-supervised audit of every data request the DCI made to Safaricom between June 2024 and December 2025, a formal apology published in national newspapers for fourteen consecutive days, the expungement of charges against anyone prosecuted on illegally obtained data, and the establishment of a Victims Compensation Fund.

    Earlier investigations by human rights organisations had alleged that Safaricom maintained a near-real-time backend access arrangement with security agencies, and that this pipeline had been linked directly to enforced disappearances and extrajudicial killings.

    Safaricom has never publicly addressed those specific allegations. On Monday, March 24 — the same day Tuju was arrested on the basis of data its network provided — the company quietly announced a new privacy initiative to partially mask phone numbers in M-Pesa transactions as a gesture toward data minimisation. The timing struck most Kenyans following the story as staggering.

    THEN THEY BEAT HIM

    Tuju had agreed to present himself at Karen Police Station voluntarily, with Kalonzo driving him there personally. What unfolded after his arrival is contested in its characterisation but documented in its consequences.

    Lawyer Ndegwa Njiru told journalists that officers moved to force Tuju into a waiting Subaru before a single entry had been made in the Occurrence Book and before any charge had been communicated to the defence. “Even before he started going into the OB, they started pushing him into a Subaru,” Njiru said. “That was not an arrest. Were it not for our presence, we would have been talking about something else. That was serious violence.”

    Tuju being whisked away by police officers from his Karen home accompanied by his lawyer Njiru.

    The violence struck directly at a catastrophic pre-existing injury. Tuju underwent spinal surgery in 2020 following a near-fatal road accident; metal plates were inserted into his vertebrae during the procedure. A doctor at the scene told officers that three discs had been affected by the way he was handled during the arrest and that moving him without a full medical assessment risked gravely worsening his condition. He required a stretcher. He was instead kept on a plastic chair inside the station. His blood sugar levels, sources said by Monday evening, were fluctuating. His overall condition was described as deteriorating.

    Kalonzo did not mince words. “I personally drove him to Karen Police Station to record a statement in good faith, in the spirit of due process. What followed was unacceptable. Tuju was carried away in a manner that no Kenyan, indeed no human being, should ever experience,” he said. When asked why a man with documented spinal injuries and worsening vital signs could not be transferred to hospital, a senior police officer at the station delivered the answer that has since been shared across social media thousands of times: “This is a matter under orders from above. We are following instructions and cannot release him at this time.”

    SECTION 129: THE CHARGE BEING READIED

    If prosecutors proceed, the charge will be brought under Section 129 of the Penal Code, which makes it a misdemeanour — punishable by up to three years in prison — to give a public officer information one knows or believes to be false. To secure a conviction, the state must prove that the information Tuju provided was false, that he knew or believed it to be false when he gave it, and that it caused officers to act on it. The DCI has already established the third limb: plainclothes detectives were deployed, forensic teams were mobilised, and a court-sanctioned search warrant was sought — all triggered by the family’s missing person report.

    Tuju’s defence dismantles the first two. He reported a genuine threat to his safety at Karen Police Station on Friday, March 20, the day before his disappearance, logging it under OB 21/21/03/2026.

    He told reporters the same unregistered white Toyota Land Cruiser 70 Series he had reported on Friday reappeared behind him on Saturday evening as he was heading to record a Ramogi FM interview. He turned onto Nandi Road, lost the tail, abandoned his vehicle on Miotoni Lane, and sought shelter with a family near the Karen-Kiambu border. “I want to thank a family in Kiambu who gave me shelter,” he told journalists.

    “They did not care about my tribe. They simply saw me as a human being.” If that account is supported by the family who sheltered him, by CCTV footage from Karen’s roads, or by any corroboration of the vehicle he described, the false-information charge does not survive.

    Amin posed a question intended to undermine Tuju’s account: “Why would a mother whose husband has disappeared for the last couple of hours fail to cooperate with the police and share whatever information she had with the investigating officers?” It is a question that cuts both ways. If the family knew Tuju was safe inside the house throughout, their refusal to admit police is inexplicable. If they genuinely did not know where he was, their caution about admitting armed officers in the middle of the night into a home that had already been forcibly entered by over a hundred people ten days earlier is rather easier to understand.

    THE PROPERTY SIEGE THAT PRECEDED EVERYTHING

    Tuju after being thrown out of his Dari property.

    Understanding the full weight of what happened on Monday requires understanding what happened on March 14. On that morning, more than a hundred people arrived before dawn at Dari Business Park in Karen — the property at the centre of Tuju’s decade-long debt dispute with the East African Development Bank.

    Some came on motorbikes. The officers who accompanied them covered their faces and, according to Tuju, carried no visible court documentation. Everyone on the premises was evicted. Tuju broadcast the scene live from outside his own gate.

    That eviction was the enforcement of an October 2024 auction that sold Dari Business Park and Tamarind Karen to Ultra Eureka Limited, a company controlled by Stabex International chairman Jackson Kiplimo Chebett, for Sh450 million. Tuju has valued the 6.8-acre estate at Sh3.5 billion. The sale resolved a debt that began as a USD 9.1 million loan in 2015, grew to USD 15.1 million by an English High Court judgment in 2019, and has been upheld by every Kenyan court since. On March 9, Justice J.W.W. Mong’are struck out Tuju’s final amended plaint as res judicata, lifted all remaining interim orders, and cleared the way for Ultra Eureka to enforce its title. He filed his police report about being followed five days later. He disappeared ten days after the eviction.

    The DCI says the chronology is suspicious. Tuju’s lawyers say it is explanatory.

    THE QUESTIONS THAT WILL OUTLAST THIS CASE

    Whether Tuju is charged, acquitted, or released without prosecution, Monday has left three questions embedded in Kenya’s public life that will not be dislodged by any single court outcome. The first and most consequential is whether Safaricom is functioning as a real-time intelligence asset for the Kenyan state, releasing location data to the DCI on the basis of written requests alone, in systematic violation of the Data Protection Act, the Constitution, and the rights of every subscriber on its network.

    The second is whether the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner — an institution that has shown a new willingness to act in minor commercial cases — has the independence, the resources, and the political protection to pursue that question against the country’s most powerful private company. The third is whether a citizen who presents himself voluntarily to record a statement can be kept in a police station, denied hospital access, denied a formal charge, and held under pain on instructions from unnamed officials above, without any of the legal safeguards the Constitution guarantees.

    As this edition went to press, Tuju was still at Karen Police Station. Kalonzo was still at the gate. The doctors were still inside. No charge had been read. No court order authorising the telecommunications data had been produced.

    And on X, the same question was being asked — about Tuju, about Mokaya, about the Gen-Z protesters, about everyone whose movements have been mapped and monetised by a system that the Data Protection Act was written to restrain: who gave Safaricom permission to hand over this man’s life, and when?

    Safaricom House along Waiyaki Way Nairobi pictured on March 4, 2025. Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation
  • Is Equity Bank Becoming A Fraudsters’ Den?

    Is Equity Bank Becoming A Fraudsters’ Den?

    The numbers are staggering. Over the past three years, Equity Bank Group has lost the equivalent of more than Sh4 billion to a cascading wave of fraud and cybercrime that has struck the lender in nearly every market it operates: Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda, and with further exposure expected in Tanzania, South Sudan, and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

    The losses have come through hacked payment systems, stolen staff credentials, insider-facilitated transfers, cryptocurrency laundering, and now a cross-border digital heist involving the bank’s Rwandan subsidiary.

    The question that Kenya’s banking establishment and its regulators refuse to answer publicly is blunt: at what point does a pattern of catastrophic, recurring financial crime stop being a series of unfortunate incidents and start being evidence of systemic failure?

    Equity Group Holdings, which styles itself Africa’s leading financial inclusion champion and holds the distinction of being East Africa’s largest bank by market capitalisation, has framed every theft as a trigger for reform.

    Each successive heist has been met with a press release, a CEO speech and, eventually, a mass dismissal.

    In 2025, the bank fired more than 1,500 employees in successive waves across its Kenyan and Ugandan operations, in what CEO James Mwangi called the most aggressive internal anti-fraud campaign in East African banking history.

    Then, barely eight months later, Equity Bank Rwanda was looted of Rwf 4.9 billion — roughly USD 3.4 million — in a five-day digital heist coordinated across two countries. The mop-up had not even finished before the next attack arrived.

    The Blueprint: How The Looting Has Unfolded

    The first recorded systematic assault on Equity’s digital infrastructure in recent memory began quietly in April 2023, when unknown actors penetrated the bank’s CyberSource payment and fraud management system. Security configurations for three registered merchants were downgraded from three-dimensional authentication — which requires multiple layers of verification — to two-dimensional, which offers far weaker protection.

    For the next three months, fraudulent credit card scripts were run silently against the three merchants, with payments debited straight from Equity Bank’s settlement account.

    No goods changed hands. No services were rendered. The money simply disappeared.

    By the time Equity Bank discovered what had happened and filed a report with the Directorate of Criminal Investigations, it had lost Sh322.1 million. Correspondence between the DCI and the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions, subsequently seen by Nation Africa, traced the stolen funds through multiple local bank accounts before a portion landed in the United Arab Emirates through a private company in Abu Dhabi, operated via a Kenyan-British businessman who is among four suspects recommended for prosecution.

    The DCI noted that forensic analysis of a seized laptop was expected to reveal whether an Equity Bank staff member facilitated the breach from inside.

    Whether the employee-collusion angle was ever conclusively resolved has not been made public. Whether the Abu Dhabi funds were ever recovered remains unknown.

    One year later, almost to the month, the credit card fraud vector was struck again.

    Between April 9 and 15, 2024, Sh179.6 million was fraudulently paid out to 551 bank accounts and mobile money wallets.

    Investigators determined that an Equity Bank employee had installed malware in the bank’s main system specifically to delay detection, buying time for the stolen funds to be dispersed.

    Equity managed to freeze Sh60 million; the remaining Sh118.9 million had already been moved — Sh63 million to M-Pesa accounts and Sh39 million to accounts in competing banks.

    The CBK said nothing publicly. Equity Bank said nothing publicly. The incident was disclosed only through investigative reporting.

    The Sh1.5 Billion Payroll Heist: An Inside Job At The Heart Of The Group

    July 10, 2024, was the date that changed everything for Equity Group. Through 47 transactions designed to mimic routine salary payments, cybercriminals siphoned Sh1,545,553,374.59from the bank’s salary suspense general ledger — an internal account used to process payroll for corporate clients — in a single day.

    The scheme was breathtaking in its sophistication: the transactions looked, on every internal system, like legitimate corporate payroll disbursements to employees of various companies.

    In reality, Kenya’s second-largest bank was being drained in one of the most audacious bank heists this country has ever seen.

    At the centre of the investigation was David Kimani Machiri, a general manager at Equity Bank’s Group Processing Centre, Salary Processing Unit, who held direct system access to the compromised account.

    The digital fingerprints of every one of the 47 transactions pointed to his credentials. Machiri had, investigators noted with particular suspicion, taken sick leave immediately before the theft.

    Yet somehow, his access codes were live and fully operational on the day of the heist. When confronted, his explanations did not satisfy investigators. He was arrested on July 12, 2024, and granted bail of Sh500,000 — then, on August 11, 2024, he was allegedly abducted and reportedly held in a forest, in a twist that raised immediate questions about who, precisely, needed him silenced.

    As investigators followed the money, a second name surfaced: Ruth Muthoni Kamau, a businesswoman whose companies — Goodmans Fresh Ltd and Blue Kenfresh Ltd — received Sh105 million directly, with additional funds flowing into personal accounts.

    A third suspect, Owen Karanja, received Sh215 million through his companies and, according to police, converted the entire sum to bitcoin deposited into a Binance cryptocurrency wallet registered in Muthoni’s name.

    A fourth suspect, initially identified only as “Geoffrey”, was revealed through fingerprint analysis to be Geoffrey Kahungi Kiragu, founder of Lesedi Developers, a real estate firm that had defrauded more than 800 investors of at least Sh1 billion before its collapse in 2023. Kiragu had simply moved on to bigger scores.

    Five individuals with Somali-sounding names received Sh463 million and were detained while attempting to access further funds at Equity Bank’s headquarters, pointing to the involvement of Hawala networks — the traditional Islamic money transfer system that operates entirely outside conventional banking channels — alongside cryptocurrency conversion.

    The theft, in other words, was not opportunistic. It was a planned, multi-layered, professionally executed financial crime involving serial fraudsters, an insider, conversion to crypto to defeat tracing, offshore routing through forex bureaus, and hawala for the final clean-out.

    The Cover-Up That Made A Scandal A Crisis

    What elevated the Sh1.5 billion heist from a serious crime to a potential institutional crisis was the allegation of systematic interference in the investigation itself.

    Inspector Bonface Maina Kamau, the lead Banking Fraud Investigation Unit detective on the case, found himself at the centre of what internal police correspondence suggests was an orchestrated campaign to derail the probe after he challenged inconsistencies in Ruth Muthoni’s witness statement — including a document that bore the wrong year, 2023 instead of 2024, and an improperly initialled recording.

    When Inspector Kamau pushed for a corrected statement, Muthoni filed a complaint against him with the Directorate of Public Complaints, accusing him of demanding a Sh10 million surety and orchestrating an illegal abduction.

    The complaint triggered Kamau’s sudden transfer to Baragoi in Samburu County — one of Kenya’s most remote postings — effectively removing the most knowledgeable investigator from the most complex financial crime case in the country.

    In protest letters to senior police officials, Kamau alleged that two senior DCI officers from the Transnational Organised Crime Unit had “incessantly tried to help Ms Muthoni wriggle out of the investigation”, that ODPP bureaucrats had made similar approaches, and that Muthoni had made WhatsApp calls to “senior officers in the DCI and the National Police Service” while being processed and had met an officer who provided her with a BFIU contact for “furtherance in assistance she needed.”

    Muthoni has since obtained a court order blocking the police from investigating or arresting her, claiming the investigation is tainted.

    A Nairobi lawyer, Esther Bitutu Kadiki, was arrested in May 2025 and charged in connection with the heist, with court papers alleging she was instrumental in orchestrating the fraudulent siphoning of funds.

    The Group’s own Chief Internal Auditor was sacked in October 2024 after being blamed for oversight failures that preceded the theft. Multiple legal proceedings now run concurrently in different courts. The investigation, in short, is as fragmented as the stolen funds.

    Uganda: Years Of Looting Under The Bank’s Nose

    Kenya’s losses, spectacular as they are, represent only part of the story.

    In Uganda, Equity Bank has suffered a slow-motion catastrophe that should have raised alarm bells at the board level years ago.

    Between 2018 and 2024, the Ugandan subsidiary was consumed by a massive insider fraud scheme in which UGX 65 billion — approximately USD 17 million — in unsecured loans was issued through the bank’s Eazzy Stock digital lending platform to fake companies, unqualified borrowers, and employees’ relatives, without adequate due diligence.

    At least eight staff members were prosecuted. Managing Director Anthony Kituuka resigned. The scheme contributed to Equity Bank Uganda recording a UGX 18.8 billion net loss in 2023, a figure that has since been partially reversed — but not without leaving a deep scar on the subsidiary’s credibility.

    In 2022 and 2023, a wave of SIM-swap and mobile banking frauds hit Ugandan customers.

    In 2024, the bank was separately exposed to an additional UGX 4 billion in losses from the negligent failure to reconcile thousands of Visa card transactions, a failure investigators linked to two employees in the bank’s monitoring team. When the bank moved to recoup those losses by placing liens on affected accounts, it placed them on accounts that were already dormant or had been closed — aggravating customers who had nothing to do with the fraud.

    Beyond the human toll, the UGX 4 billion card fiasco exposed a monitoring team that was either incompetent or complicit.

    In one additional case, an Equity Bank Uganda operations manager was charged in court over the alleged theft and laundering of USD 2.8 million from the lender.

    By mid-2025, when Mwangi extended his Kenyan anti-fraud purge into Uganda, Equity Bank Uganda’s fraud-related provisions had ballooned to UGX 191.2 billion — a figure that, taken alone, would be a national banking scandal in any country on the continent.

    Rwanda 2026: The Purge Did Not Hold

    Rwanda was supposed to be different. Equity Group had explicitly named it as one of the subsidiaries that would be swept through the integrity audit Mwangi had launched.

    The CEO had gone on record in May 2025 promising to be “consistently ruthless.” Rwanda, Tanzania, South Sudan and the DRC were named destinations for the crackdown. Eight months later, on February 14 to 18, 2026, attackers executed a five-day digital assault on Equity Bank Rwanda that drained Rwf 4.9 billion — approximately USD 3.4 million — from the bank’s mobile money float system. Equity detected and contained the breach, reversing a majority of transactions within 24 hours. Approximately USD 2.5 million — 74 percent of the total — remained outstanding.

    On March 15, 2026, Equity Bank Rwanda confirmed the incident. On March 23, 2026, six Ugandan nationals — Mugisha Solomon, Enock Mpanga Kazige, Katerega Benedicto, Kiyimba Faruk, Oketcho Gerard, and Katamba Isma — were arraigned at Kampala Metropolitan Police under CRB: 215/2026, charged with electronic fraud under Section 18(1) and (2) of Uganda’s Computer Misuse Act, Cap 96.

    The Rwanda Investigation Bureau had separately detained 35 individuals in Rwanda, including two Equity Bank Rwanda IT staff connected to data centre operations.

    Investigators told sources that “there must have been physical access to the data centre.” The reference in the Ugandan charge sheet to “others still at large” confirmed the operation was wider than the six individuals in custody.

    The 2026 attack was not Rwanda’s first encounter with criminals targeting Equity Bank. In November 2019, twelve people — eight Kenyans, three Rwandans, and a Ugandan — were arrested in Kigali while attempting a similar cyber-fraud operation against the bank.

    They were convicted in 2021 and sentenced to eight-year jail terms. That history makes the 2026 breach more damning, not less: Equity Bank Rwanda had been on notice since 2019 that it was a cross-border target.

    The 2026 attack was, by all accounts, far more technically sophisticated — exploiting the mobile money float mechanism, deploying a cross-border human mule architecture, and apparently gaining entry through a third-party vendor’s system rather than through a frontal assault on the bank’s own network.

    The Rogue Employee At Sh387M: A Fourth Attack In The Same Year

    Even as the Sh1.5 billion payroll heist dominated headlines, Equity Bank Kenya was simultaneously absorbing a fourth major loss. Between May 17 and June 14, 2024 — while the payroll investigation was still live — a rogue employee illegally transferred Sh386.5 million to eight companies: Ubahashi Traders Limited, Calabash Adventures Limited, Jahnur Investment, Kariye Investment, Flowerish International, Kariye Salah Ali, Hotho Investments, and Sasa Pay Trust.

    Equity Bank rushed to court for freezing orders and reported the matter to the BFIU. This was a separate theft, a separate employee, separate beneficiary companies — yet sharing names with some of the Hawala-linked suspects already implicated in the payroll heist, a connection that raises questions about the breadth of the criminal network that had embedded itself inside the institution.

    The Audit Chief Is Fired, Not The System

    One of the more revealing episodes in this saga is what happened to Equity Bank’s most senior internal watchdog.

    Court papers filed in the Employment and Labour Relations Court reveal that a senior bank official who had served as Group Chief Internal Auditor since 2016 and was reassigned as Director Internal Audit in February 2024 was suspended in August 2024 and dismissed in October 2024, after the bank identified “omissions and/or commissions, failure or negligence” linked to his oversight role as contributing causes to the Sh1.5 billion loss.

    The man had spent 22 years at the institution. His termination was treated as a solution. The structure that allowed an internal salary suspense account to be drained of Sh1.5 billion through 47 transactions without real-time alert — that structure received no public scrutiny whatsoever.

    What The Numbers Actually Say

    Tallied conservatively across the documented incidents from 2023 to early 2026, Equity Group has lost or been exposed to fraud and cybercrime losses approaching the equivalent of Sh5.5 billion across its regional operations.

    The figure includes the Sh322.1 million CyberSource credit card fraud (2023), the Sh179.6 million repeat credit card fraud (April 2024), the Sh386.5 million rogue-employee transfer (May to June 2024), the Sh1.545 billion payroll heist (July 2024), the UGX 65 billion Eazzy Stock digital lending scandal in Uganda (2018 to 2024, equivalent to approximately Sh2.2 billion at current rates), the UGX 4 billion unreconciled Visa card losses in Uganda (2024), and the Rwf 4.9 billion Rwanda digital heist (February 2026, approximately Sh475 million).

    Not counted in this figure are the USD 2.8 million Uganda operations manager fraud, the title deed fraud of Sh490 million, forged payment instructions of Sh26.2 million, or fraudulent teller transactions of Sh39 million — all separately disclosed in court documents.

    The bank’s own internal audit, which led to the dismissal of between 1,200 and 1,500 employees across Kenya and Uganda by mid-2025, confirmed total losses over two years of at least Sh2 billion (approximately USD 15.4 million) from staff collusion alone.

    These are not allegations. These are figures drawn from the bank’s own public statements, court filings, police charge sheets, and DCI correspondence with the ODPP.

    The Structural Problem The Bank Will Not Name

    Every statement issued by Equity Bank Group in the wake of these incidents has shared a common theme: the problem is the people, not the system. James Mwangi has said he will be ruthless. He will clean the bank.

    He will protect mama mboga’s chicken. He will remove those who have compromised themselves. And so the bank has fired employees: 195 in May 2025, then 287 by mid-May, then 1,200 in a single wave on May 29, 2025 — nearly nine percent of the entire Kenyan workforce, handed two-day ultimatums to prove their innocence. By the time the Uganda purge was added, more than 1,500 people had been dismissed.

    What has not been publicly examined, by the bank, by the Central Bank of Kenya, by the Bank of Uganda, or by the National Bank of Rwanda, is this: how does a bank of Equity’s scale and sophistication — with a market capitalisation of Sh1.3 trillion, operations in seven countries, and a customer base exceeding 12.9 million — allow a single manager’s credentials to authorise 47 transactions totalling Sh1.5 billion from a salary suspense account without a single real-time flag? How does a credit card fraud scheme run undetected for three consecutive months before the bank notices? How does the same fraud vector succeed again, one year later, by a different set of criminals? How does an employee install malware in the main system without detection? And how does the Rwanda subsidiary, explicitly named for a post-Kenya integrity audit, end up being looted eight months after the CEO’s pledge to sweep it clean?

    The answer, which no one in authority is publicly willing to give, is that the problem is not primarily the employees.

    The problem is a digital banking architecture that expanded faster than the controls designed to govern it. Equity Bank has transformed itself, with extraordinary commercial success, from a building society for the unbanked into a seven-country digital financial services group processing millions of transactions daily across mobile money platforms, agent networks, and third-party technology integrations.

    In doing so, it has multiplied not just the opportunities for financial inclusion but the attack surfaces for financial crime. Every new integration is a potential entry point. Every new market is a new set of local fraudsters studying the system. Every new credential is a potential key.

    Where Are The Regulators?

    The Central Bank of Kenya has, to date, made no public statement specifically addressing the string of fraud incidents at Equity Bank. The Communications Authority of Kenya reported 7.9 billion cyber threats in the first eight months of 2025 — double the figure for 2024 — and the CBK has described Kenya’s banking sector as “resilient.”

    This is the same regulator that is mandated under the Banking Act to ensure the soundness and stability of institutions under its watch.

    The Bank of Uganda has been similarly silent on the Equity Uganda fraud provisions of UGX 191.2 billion. The National Bank of Rwanda confirmed only that it was cooperating with the Rwanda Investigation Bureau on the February 2026 attack.

    No regulator in any of the three primary jurisdictions has publicly demanded an independent audit of Equity Group’s cybersecurity architecture. No regulator has disclosed whether the bank faces any supervisory sanction for repeated material control failures.

    This silence is itself a regulatory failure. Kenya’s Banking Act grants the CBK sweeping powers to inspect, investigate and direct remedial action at licensed institutions.

    The Proceeds of Crime and Anti-Money Laundering Act creates obligations that the bank’s own transactions with the Abu Dhabi-routed funds, the bitcoin conversions, and the Hawala networks should have triggered.

    That the investigation into who precisely engineered the 2023 CyberSource hack — and whether an insider was involved — appears to have produced no public outcome three years later is not a point of comfort. It is a point of alarm.

    The Questions That Must Be Answered

    Is Equity Bank’s digital infrastructure fundamentally vulnerable to insider exploitation in ways that individual dismissals cannot fix? Why has no regulator in Kenya, Uganda or Rwanda publicly demanded an independent third-party cybersecurity audit of Equity Group’s core banking systems? How much of the combined Sh5-plus billion stolen from the bank across its markets has actually been recovered, and where is the money that reached Abu Dhabi in 2023? What happened to the investigation into Inspector Bonface Kamau’s allegations that senior DCI officers and ODPP bureaucrats attempted to shield Ruth Muthoni from prosecution? Are the criminal networks that have targeted Equity Bank in Kenya, Uganda, and Rwanda linked — and if so, is there a coordinated organised crime operation running across the group’s footprint that law enforcement has failed to map and dismantle? And why, after the largest internal purge in East African banking history, did Equity Bank Rwanda’s data centre apparently suffer a physical or near-physical access breach just eight months later?

    These are not rhetorical questions.

    They are the questions that the bank’s 12.9 million customers, its 14,000 remaining employees, its shareholders on the Nairobi Securities Exchange, the Uganda Securities Exchange and the Rwanda Stock Exchange, and the regulators in seven countries are entitled to have answered.

    The money belongs to ordinary Kenyans, Ugandans, and Rwandans. Some of it is mama mboga’s chicken. And it keeps disappearing.

  • FLYING ON BORROWED TIME: Safarilink’s Decade of Incidents Puts Kenya’s Safari Skies on Trial

    FLYING ON BORROWED TIME: Safarilink’s Decade of Incidents Puts Kenya’s Safari Skies on Trial

    On the evening of Friday March 20, 2026, a De Havilland Dash 8 carrying 34 passengers and five crew skidded off the runway at Wilson Airport after landing from Kisumu. It was, by the reckoning of those on board, a matter of seconds from becoming an inferno. It was also, by any fair reckoning of the record, anything but a surprise.

    Vihiga Senator Godfrey Osotsi, who was among the 39 occupants of the aircraft operated by ALS Limited on behalf of Safarilink Aviation, later posted on Facebook shortly after 11pm to tell Kenya he was alive.

    He praised the pilot for steering the Dash 8 off the sealed surface and forcing it to stall on the grass near the intersection of Runways 07 and 14, thereby preventing what he described as a catastrophic fire.

    What he did not praise was anyone at Wilson Airport itself: no ambulance came. No emergency response team materialised. Kenya Airports Authority confirmed the aircraft remained on site while recovery efforts were ongoing, and said operations at the airport continued normally.

    For Senator Osotsi, the ordeal did not come out of nowhere. Eight days earlier, on March 12, he had stood in the Senate chamber and listed five pointed questions about the state of Wilson Airport’s runway, drainage, rescue and firefighting facilities, air traffic systems and power backup. Nobody answered them before his plane nearly burned.

    That gap between the warning and the disaster is the story of Safarilink and Wilson Airport in miniature: alarm bells that ring loudly, followed by institutional silence, followed by another incident.

    Kenya Insights has reconstructed the airline’s safety record over more than a decade and found a pattern that Kenya’s civil aviation establishment has consistently failed to confront.

    THE AIRLINE THEY TRUSTED TO FLY THEM TO PARADISE

    Safarilink Aviation Limited, headquartered at Wilson Airport and carrying the IATA code F2, was founded in 2004 to do something deceptively simple: fly tourists to the Maasai Mara and back.

    Over two decades it built a reputation as the premium domestic carrier for safari-bound travellers, with scheduled and charter routes connecting Nairobi to remote game reserve airstrips across the country.

    Its current fleet includes several Cessna 208B Grand Caravans and De Havilland Canada Dash 8 variants, and the airline carries tens of thousands of passengers a year, many of them foreign visitors whose first and last impression of Kenya’s aviation infrastructure is formed aboard a Safarilink flight.

    That image of reliability is not without foundation.

    Safarilink has never lost a single paying passenger or crew member in a crash of its own aircraft. Against the backdrop of African aviation more broadly, that is a record worth noting.

    The problem is the growing list of serious incidents that surrounds it, incidents that in other jurisdictions would have prompted regulatory intervention, public inquiries and fleet audits, but which in Kenya have been absorbed into the national conversation and then forgotten, one after another, until the next one arrives.

    A CHRONOLOGY OF CLOSE CALLS

    December 2007: The Apron Collision at Wilson

    The airline’s first documented serious incident occurred even before it had firmly established its safari routes. On 12 December 2007, a Cessna 208B Grand Caravan registered 5Y-SLA sustained substantial damage at Wilson Airport in a ground collision on the apron involving a turning propeller from another aircraft.

    No passengers were on board and no injuries resulted, but the episode exposed the congestion and ground handling risks that would shadow the airline for years to come.

    August 2019: Wildebeest on the Runway at Kichwa Tembo

    The most cinematically dramatic entry in Safarilink’s incident log came in August 2019. Its De Havilland Canada DHC-8-200, registration 5Y-SLM, was on a scheduled flight from Wilson to Kichwa Tembo Airstrip deep in the Maasai Mara.

    As the aircraft touched down, several wildebeest dashed onto the strip.

    The left main landing gear collapsed on impact and the number one propeller was damaged. The aircraft was written off as a total loss. Two wildebeest died. Every passenger and crew member walked away.

    The incident was widely reported internationally, presented as a spectacular collision with the African landscape, but the underlying questions it raised about wildlife management at remote airstrips received little regulatory follow-through.

    October 2019: Tyre Burst at Wilson

    Just weeks after the Mara wildlife strike, a Safarilink Cessna Caravan, registration 5Y-SLJ, skidded off the runway at Wilson Airport after a tyre burst on landing from Lamu. Ten passengers and two crew members were on board. None were injured.

    The Kenya Civil Aviation Authority closed the runway for 30 minutes while the aircraft was towed clear. The KCAA called the incident ‘regrettable.’

    What it did not call it was part of a pattern, even though it followed a Silverstone Air wheel incident and preceded a second Safarilink tyre failure on a Dash 8 within days, prompting the UK’s Foreign and Commonwealth Office to issue a travel advisory warning Britons to scrutinise the safety records of airlines operating from Wilson Airport.

    March 5, 2024: Mid-Air Collision Over Nairobi National Park

    This is the incident that should have changed everything and did not change enough. At 09:34 on the morning of March 5, 2024, Safarilink Flight 053, a Dash 8-315 registered 5Y-SLK, climbed out of Wilson Airport’s Runway 14 bound for Ukunda with 39 passengers and five crew.

    Simultaneously, a Cessna 172M registered 5Y-NNJ, operated by the Ninety-Nines Flying School and based at Wilson, was conducting touch-and-go circuit training on Runway 07. Air traffic control had issued see-and-avoid instructions to both crews.

    The aircraft collided. The Dash 8’s crew heard a loud bang, felt severe yaw and levelled off, eventually returning safely to Wilson with part of the right horizontal stabiliser’s de-icing boot torn away.

    The Cessna spun out of control and fell into Nairobi National Park, 1.6 nautical miles from the airport perimeter.

    The instructor pilot, 25 years old and holding a Commercial Pilot’s Licence, and the 20-year-old student pilot with 49 total hours in his logbook were both killed on impact. Their deaths remain the only passenger or crew fatalities ever linked to a Safarilink flight.

    Kenya’s Aircraft Accident Investigation Department launched an investigation and issued a preliminary report. As of March 2026, a final report had not been publicly released.

    The AAID noted that ATC had issued see-and-avoid instructions and that the Dash 8 crew reported what appeared to be clear traffic before impact.

    The fundamental question of how Wilson Airport’s congested mixed-use airspace, shared daily by commercial turboprops, training aircraft and private planes operating under visual flight rules, can be made safe remains unanswered.

    December 28, 2024: ALS Dash 8 Runway Mishap at Wilson

    Less than a year before the March 2026 excursion, an ALS-operated Dash 8, registration 5Y-MRE, experienced a landing mishap at Wilson when its main tyres burst, temporarily closing the runway. No injuries were reported.

    The significance of this incident lies partly in the aircraft: ALS, the same operator that would the following year handle Flight 090 on behalf of Safarilink, was already registering incidents at the very airport where another of its aircraft would come to grief.

    THE NIGHT A SENATOR’S QUESTIONS CAME TRUE

    The March 2026 runway excursion has a quality that separates it from those that came before: it was anticipated in formal legislative terms with extraordinary precision. On March 12, Senator Osotsi had asked the Standing Committee on Roads, Transportation and Housing for a statement covering the state of Wilson Airport’s runway, its drainage, its rescue and firefighting facilities, its air traffic control systems and its power backup installations.

    He had asked for findings from investigations into recent accidents around Wilson. He had asked for timelines on the demolition of buildings rising above the prescribed height restrictions along the flight path.

    His senatorial colleagues agreed with the thrust of his concerns.

    Senate Majority Leader Aaron Cheruiyot, who represents Kericho, stated during the March 12 session that ‘any user of that airport must be concerned for their safety.’

    He flagged the airport’s lax security arrangements and noted that runway repairs were progressing, in his phrase, ‘extremely slowly,’ such that planes on certain runways must overfly Lang’ata Road and the playing compound of Lang’ata Primary School during approach.

    Marsabit Senator Mohamed Chute raised concerns about repairs to Runway 07 and called on airport management to appear before a Senate committee.

    Mombasa Senator Faki Mwihaji cited encroachment by a developer who had constructed a playing field near the airport perimeter and blocked an emergency access road. Wajir Senator Mohamed Abass declared the airport ‘a disaster in waiting.’

    Eight days later, Flight 090 arrived from Kisumu in rain and darkness. According to Senator Osotsi, writing from the scene that night, the runway was flooded and the lighting system was not functioning properly.

    He noted that it is widely known that such conditions regularly force evening flights to divert to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, and he demanded to know why this particular flight had not been redirected. Kenya Airports Authority said operations at Wilson remained normal.

    WHAT THE RECORD REVEALS

    Examined as a body of evidence rather than a series of isolated episodes, Safarilink’s incident history reveals several recurring failure modes. Runway excursions are the most frequent category: the 2007 apron collision, the 2019 tyre burst, the ALS Dash 8 tyre failure in December 2024 and the March 2026 skid-off share a common geography, Wilson Airport, and a common theme, an aircraft leaving its intended surface.

    The 2019 Mara wildebeest strike represents the hazard of operating into unsecured bush strips where wildlife management is inconsistent. The 2024 mid-air collision stands alone as an airspace management failure of the gravest kind.

    What is notably absent from this list is the category of failure that most frequently features in African aviation fatality statistics: catastrophic mechanical failure leading to controlled-flight-into-terrain, or crew incapacitation in cruise.

    Safarilink’s aircraft have largely performed as designed; the incidents have occurred at the margins, during takeoff, landing, ground operations and low-level flight near an airport that senators now describe as structurally inadequate.

    That distinction matters for how regulators should respond, because it points away from Safarilink’s maintenance culture and toward the operating environment.

    Wilson Airport is 97 years old. It was established in 1929 in what was then open land outside Nairobi.

    The city has since grown around and over it. Buildings encroach on its perimeter. Developers obstruct emergency access roads. Runway 07 is under repair at a pace senators describe as incompatible with safety. Drainage fails in heavy rain. Evening lighting malfunctions.

    And Nairobi’s upper airspace continues to mix commercial turboprops with training aircraft under visual-separation rules that, as March 2024 demonstrated, can have fatal consequences.

    THE WET LEASE QUESTION

    One detail of the March 2026 incident deserves specific scrutiny that it has not yet received. The aircraft that skidded off Wilson’s runway on Flight 090 was not owned or crewed by Safarilink in the conventional sense.

    It was a De Havilland DHC-8-100, registration 5Y-BXI, operated by ALS Limited under a wet lease arrangement, meaning ALS provided not just the aircraft but also the pilots and cabin crew.

    KAA’s statement confirmed that 5Y-BXI is an aircraft normally deployed for humanitarian operations on behalf of the World Food Programme and the International Committee of the Red Cross.

    The wet lease is a legitimate and common commercial arrangement in African aviation. But it raises questions that regulators and the public should be pressing Safarilink to answer: what are the standards by which it selects wet lease partners?

    What oversight does it exercise over their crew training, recency and qualifications? Does it conduct its own safety audits of operators flying its routes under its brand? And when an ALS aircraft on a Safarilink flight number runs off the runway at an airport where another ALS aircraft had already suffered a tyre failure fifteen months earlier, what does the contractual framework require the airline to do?

    WHAT NEEDS TO HAPPEN

    The Kenya Civil Aviation Authority has repeatedly described itself as committed to international safety standards.

    The Kenya Airports Authority issues statements after incidents confirming everyone is safe. Investigations are launched and preliminary reports are filed. Final reports, with binding recommendations, are slower to materialise.

    The AAID’s investigation into the March 2024 mid-air collision has not produced a final public report as of the date of this publication, more than two years after two pilots died above Nairobi National Park.

    Senator Osotsi has called for Wilson Airport to be closed and comprehensively upgraded before it resumes full operations.

    Senate Majority Leader Cheruiyot has said something must change. Marsabit’s Chute wants management summoned before a committee.

    These are the right instincts, but Kenya has heard similar demands before. The KCAA convened a closed-door meeting with Wilson-based operators after the 2019 tyre burst incidents. The UK government issued a travel warning. Airlines issued statements. And then the moment passed, until the next one.

    What Kenya’s aviation sector requires is not another round of statements and closed sessions but a published, time-bound action plan for Wilson Airport’s runway, drainage, lighting and emergency response infrastructure; a public final report on the March 2024 mid-air collision; an enforceable framework for wet lease safety oversight; and meaningful wildlife management standards at bush airstrips that receive commercial passenger traffic.

    Safarilink, for its part, should publish the safety audit criteria it applies to wet lease operators and confirm what additional measures it has taken since March 2024.

    Thirty-nine passengers survived March 20. Two pilots did not survive March 5, 2024. The arithmetic of Kenya’s aviation near-misses is still, for now, tolerable. The question is how much longer that tolerance can reasonably be extended before the luck runs out.

  • Allan Chesang Caught on Another Con Game? After Laptop Scamming, Now Fake Ambulance Fraud Hits

    Allan Chesang Caught on Another Con Game? After Laptop Scamming, Now Fake Ambulance Fraud Hits

    There is a particular species of Kenyan politician who treats the court system as an inconvenient hobby, the DCI as a public relations problem, and the treasury of foreign investors as a personal ATM.

    Trans Nzoia Senator Allan Kiprotich Chesang has, with remarkable consistency, embodied all three.

    By the time the ink was dry on the latest scandal to bear his name, a Sh60.08 million fake ambulance tender engineered from the very heart of Harambee House, Kenya’s corridors of power were buzzing with a question that is no longer rhetorical: is this man constitutionally incapable of staying out of a con?

    The allegations are serious, specific and, for anyone who has been paying attention, depressingly familiar.

    Chesang, alongside Interior Principal Secretary Raymond Omollo, has been named in connection with a fraud that targeted Talal Yousef Yousef Zaitoun, a Swedish businessman who arrived in Kenya in January 2026 believing he was about to secure a legitimate government contract for 500 high-roof diesel Toyota Hiace ambulances.

    What he actually walked into, investigators allege, was an elaborate wash-wash theatre staged across multiple floors of a government building that is supposed to represent the highest authority of the Kenyan state.

    Seven suspects were arrested on March 10, 2026, in a DCI sting that caught them mid-negotiation on the 12th floor of Harambee House.

    The eight accused were arraigned on March 17. Chesang and Omollo, the alleged architects of the enterprise, remained free. The impunity was, for anyone who has followed this senator’s career, entirely on brand.

    The Laptop Scam That Started It All

    To understand what Chesang has allegedly done now, you have to understand what courts allege he did before.

    In 2018, long before anyone had heard of Senator Chesang, a businessman named Charles Musinga of Makindu Motors walked into Harambee House Annex believing he had won a genuine government tender to supply 2,800 HP laptops to the Ministry of Devolution.

    He lost Sh181 million. The people he trusted turned out to be operating an elaborate fraud ring linked to then-Deputy President William Ruto’s office. And the person courts say drove to collect those laptops, flanked by a police escort in a Range Rover bearing stickers from Parliament and the Office of the Deputy President, was Allan Chesang.

    The charges laid against Chesang and six co-accused, namely Teddy Awiti, Kevin Matundura Nyongesa, Augustine Wambua Matata, Joy Wangari Kamau, James William Makokha alias Mr. Wanyonyi, and Johan Ochieng Osore, included conspiracy to defraud, making a document without authority, obtaining goods by false pretences, handling stolen goods, and abuse of office.

    Seven counts in total. The case has wound its way through Milimani Law Courts for years.

    As recently as March 2024, the Ksh221 million fraud case, the figure had grown as additional claims were assessed, was adjourned because Chesang could not be reached for the afternoon session.

    He had attended the morning session virtually from Switzerland, claiming parliamentary business. His absence did not amuse the prosecution.

    One witness testimony, recorded in court, described how Chesang and associates would entertain their victims at Ole Sereni Hotel and Karen before directing them into Harambee House Annex via the VIP lift.

    The same witness recalled that after the laptops were successfully collected, the ring members told him that their next target would be an ambulance tender. That detail, surfacing in court proceedings from 2021, reads today like a playbook rather than a prophecy.

    The Defence Tender That Would Not Die

    If the laptop case is the headline crime, the Department of Defence tender saga is the subplot that reveals his character most nakedly.

    Chesang and co-accused stand charged with obtaining Sh25 million from one Johnson Wambua Mwanzia by pretending they had acquired a tender to supply Jute Gunny Bags to the DoD. Standard wash-wash template. Forged documents. False pretences. The victim parted with his money.

    What makes this case particularly illuminating is what happened next. Chesang did not fight the charges on the merits.

    He applied to have them withdrawn on the grounds that he was prepared to repay Sh17 million, the amount deposited into his account.

    When the magistrate declined to dismiss the case without confirmation of full repayment, and when the complainant disputed that the full sum had even been returned, Chesang watched the withdrawal application collapse for the third consecutive time. By May 2025, the court was still untangling the disputed payment. Three failed bids to quietly exit a fraud case is not bad luck. It is a strategy.

    Gold, Syndicate, and a Billion-Shilling Problem

    In September 2023, a fake gold syndicate was exposed operating from a house in Garden Estate, Nairobi. Among those linked to it were Nyaribari Chache MP Zaheer Jhanda and Lang’ata MP Felix Odiwuor, also known as Jalang’o. The senator in the same category was Chesang.

    The DCI described a scheme targeting a Tunisian businessman who had been kept waiting in the country for nearly two weeks before the suspects were ready to execute the final con, at which point DCI officers moved in and arrested ten people. Two suspects fled by tearing through a shade net fence.

    One month later, in October 2023, it happened again. A South African national, Ralph Manyaka, had purportedly imported 30 kilograms of gold from Sierra Leone.

    He was told it had been confiscated in Nairobi and that he needed to pay Sh5.3 million to release the consignment. He flew to Kenya. He was taken to Kilimani, then driven to a palatial home in Runda.

    The DCI, which had laid an ambush, arrested three suspects: Fauzia Wanjiru alias Issa, Shallo Fatma alias Tett, and Jackson Ochieng.

    Investigators say the scam was connected to an international criminal ring spanning Kenya, Sierra Leone and DR Congo, with a Congolese national and a Sierra Leonean national among the masterminds being pursued.

    The DCI published Chesang’s name as an associate of the arrested suspects. Within 24 hours, the senator and his lawyer, Rarieda MP Otiende Amollo, were at the DCI’s Kiambu Road headquarters brandishing a demand letter and threatening defamation suits.

    Chesang has never sued the DCI. The deadline expired. The noise moved on. The senator remained.

    The Harambee House Ambulance Con: How the Net Was Cast

    The architecture of the latest scam is, frankly, audacious. On January 27, 2026, one day after Talal Yousef Yousef Zaitoun arrived in Kenya on a Turkish Airlines flight, he was escorted to Harambee House, where he was introduced to individuals who presented themselves as representatives of the National Treasury and the Ministry of Health.

    They told him the Kenyan government required 500 high-roof diesel Toyota Hiace ambulances, that the contract was worth $36,025,000, and that before he could sign, he needed to provide either a performance bond or insurance coverage of three percent of the contract value.

    Zaitoun chose the insurance option: $1,080,750. He transferred $470,750 equivalent to Sh60.08 million. It is this sum that the prosecution says was stolen.

    Investigators say the scam relied on forged award letters and contracts purportedly signed by Ministry of Interior officials.

    The key suspect, Michael Musyoki Ngumbi, has been charged with producing the forged documents.

    Meetings were held in official government chambers to provide the impression of legitimacy. When Zaitoun returned on March 9 with his brother Hatim for the final stage of the deal, DCI officers were waiting. Seven suspects were arrested in real time, mid-transaction, on the 12th floor of Harambee House.

    The whistle was blown by an aide inside the PS’s own office.

    When investigators traced the chain of authority back, it led, according to the Nyakundi Report’s sources, directly to Raymond Omollo’s orbit. And entangled in that orbit, sources allege, was Senator Chesang.

    The Ruto Connection: How Proximity to Power Buys Impunity

    Chesang’s relationship with William Ruto predates his senatorial career and forms the backbone of the impunity his critics say he has enjoyed.

    Before he became a senator, before he was elected on a UDA ticket in 2022, Chesang was already a visible fixture in Ruto’s political circuit, photographed with the then-Deputy President, close to Oscar Sudi and Caleb Kositany, operating within the orbit that would eventually form Kenya Kwanza.

    The original laptop scam itself was executed from the Office of the Deputy President’s premises.

    Witnesses in that case described Chesang arriving at Harambee House with police escorts, using Range Rovers fitted with DP office stickers, moving through the VIP channels of the government’s most protected address.

    That proximity has never been purely ceremonial. When Ruto became President, Chesang became part of the loyalist Senate choir: endorsing the UDA-ODM pact, urging national unity, praising Ruto’s leadership at every available platform.

    In March 2025, when the UDA-ODM cooperation agreement was formalised, Chesang was at the podium urging Trans Nzoia leaders to rally behind the president’s unity agenda.

    He is described by his own supporters as a close ally of the head of state. The value of that proximity, in Kenya’s political economy, is not incidental.

    There is a documented pattern with Chesang’s legal troubles: cases drag. Applications stall. Hearings get adjourned when the senator is conveniently abroad. Charges that should have resulted in prosecution years ago are still crawling through the courts.

    Critics have long argued that his political insurance has made him effectively untouchable, that the same executive access which allegedly enabled his schemes also shields him from their consequences.

    The ambulance case, in which Chesang and Omollo remained free as eight lower-level suspects were arraigned, fits that pattern with uncomfortable precision.

    The Natembeya Problem: When Your Fiancee Worked for the Man You Were Attacking

    Even outside the criminal courts, Chesang’s political career has been defined by a special brand of self-inflicted turbulence.

    His running battle with Trans Nzoia Governor George Natembeya became a soap opera that the county could not look away from.

    Chesang repeatedly alleged that over Sh800 million in devolved funds went unaccounted for under Natembeya’s watch, presenting himself as the accountability hawk, the man holding the executive to account.

    Natembeya’s counter was devastating in its simplicity. While Chesang was publicly excoriating his administration, his own fiancee, Chanelle Kittony, was serving as a Cabinet Executive Committee member in Natembeya’s county government, first overseeing Gender, Sports and Youth, then Roads, Energy and Infrastructure.

    The governor named the appointment publicly. The hypocrisy was naked and complete. A man attacking corruption with one hand while his future wife drew a salary from the accused government with the other.

    The Luxury Fleet and the Lifestyle Questions Nobody Is Supposed to Ask

    When Chesang first surfaced in public consciousness, he was a young man who liked to boast that he made his first million in Form One, playing table tennis at a tournament in Congo Brazzaville.

    Whether one believes that particular origin story is, at this point, beside the question.

    What is verifiable is the lifestyle that followed. Before he became a senator, he was already rotating through high-end vehicles, Range Rovers, E-class Mercedes Benzes, some fitted with stickers from the Office of the Deputy President, others bearing parliamentary plates.

    He owned a share in entertainment venues including Blend Club in Nairobi and The Garage in Thika. He ran the Allan Chesang Foundation, positioning himself as a philanthropist. At 31 he was photographed in a private jet.

    Investigators recovered DCI exhibits from his premises during the laptop case: KRA stickers, a document showing suspects had signed a deal for equipment worth Sh317 million, and 700 laptops.

    Kenya Insights is aware of additional allegations, sourced from investigative accounts, that Chesang ran a network involving loan schemes operated through a company called Amspex, which banked at Standard Chartered, with proxies routing proceeds through Dubai-linked investment fronts. These allegations have not been tested in court and Chesang has denied association with such ventures.

    A Pattern, Not a Coincidence

    There is a consistent anatomy to what Chesang is alleged to have done across multiple cases. First, access to a government building gives the scheme its veneer of legitimacy. Second, forged documents, whether tender award letters, contracts, or purchase orders, provide the paperwork to convince the victim.

    Third, a network of complicit intermediaries, lawyers, brokers, government-adjacent fixers, receive and disperse the proceeds.

    Fourth, when the walls close in, legal guns come out, demand letters are fired at investigators, political friends are activated, and the matter is dragged through the courts until everyone loses interest. Fifth, the senator remains free.

    The laptop tender.

    The Department of Defence gunny bags. The September 2023 garden estate gold syndicate. The October 2023 Runda gold scam. Now the Harambee House ambulance fraud.

    Five separate matters in which Chesang’s name has appeared, in court records or in DCI publications, in connection with the same template: forged government documents, foreign or domestic victims, large sums extracted, and the senator at or near the centre.

    His consistent response to each: I know nothing, I am being persecuted, my lawyers will act. And yet the pattern accumulates.

    What Happens Next

    The Directorate of Criminal Investigations and the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission face a straightforward test. Eight people of lesser political standing have been arraigned. The two men who are alleged to have designed the system, Omollo and Chesang, have not. Legal experts have stated publicly that holding high-ranking officials accountable is essential if the ambulance case is to serve as anything more than theatre.

    Pressure is mounting. International investors, and the Swedish businessman who lost his money is not the last such investor Kenya needs to attract, are watching.

    For his part, Chesang has made no public statement on the ambulance scandal at the time of publication. His Senate profile continues. His political connections remain intact. The wedding photographs from November 2025 are still up, all lilac florals and Ruto in the front row.

    But the questions are louder now than they have ever been.

    A man can deny one scandal. He can call the second politically motivated. By the time the fifth finds his name in the same kind of documents, featuring the same kind of forged contracts, targeting the same kind of credulous foreign investor, the denials require an audience that is running out of patience.

  • THE RUTO HAND IN TUJU’S FALL: How a President-Linked Petroleum Baron Walked Away With Sh3.5 Billion Karen Land for Sh450 Million

    THE RUTO HAND IN TUJU’S FALL: How a President-Linked Petroleum Baron Walked Away With Sh3.5 Billion Karen Land for Sh450 Million

    The Auction Nobody Noticed

    On the morning of October 1, 2024, a day that will be remembered in Kenyan political history for the parliamentary theatre that stripped Rigathi Gachagua of the deputy presidency, a very different transaction was being concluded in the city’s commercial corridors. Officials of a company called Ultra Eureka Limited were finalising paperwork to hand over Sh45 million, a ten per cent deposit, to Garam Investments Auctioneers.

    The object of their interest: a 6.8-acre leasehold in Karen, one of Nairobi’s most coveted postcodes, upon which former Cabinet Secretary Raphael Tuju had built a luxury commercial and wellness complex worth, by his own account, no less than Sh3.5 billion.

    The full purchase price was Sh450 million.

    By December 2024, Ultra Eureka Limited had cleared the Sh405 million balance.

    By February 2025, it was registered as the new proprietor of a 99-year leasehold over land that hosts the Entim Sidai Wellness Sanctuary, Tamarind Karen and Dari Business Park. The buyer had acquired a trophy asset for less than thirteen cents on the shilling.

    Ultra Eureka Limited is the sole property of Jackson Kiplimo Chebett, the dominant shareholder and board chairman of Stabex International Limited, one of Kenya’s fastest-rising petroleum marketing companies and a firm whose name has circulated for years in whispered conversations about the business interests of Kenya’s political class.

    The Stabex-Ruto Shadow

    Stabex International Limited was incorporated in 2009 and has since grown into a petroleum colossus with over 150 retail stations across Kenya and Uganda, twelve storage depots and annual sales volumes exceeding 300 million litres of fuel.

    In the final quarter of 2025, the company commanded a 4.9 per cent market share in Kenya’s downstream petroleum sector, making it the fourth largest player in the industry behind Vivo Energy, Rubis and TotalEnergies.

    In a sector long dominated by multinationals, Stabex’s ascent has been remarkable by any measure.

    Registered ownership of Stabex places Jackson Kiplimo Chebett as the majority shareholder with 925,000 of the company’s one million ordinary shares. Abraham Kipkoech Korir, the director of projects and business development, holds 50,000 shares.

    Stabex Group Chairman Jackson Kiplimo Chebett

    The share register is thin, but the company’s trajectory is anything but: it has in recent years displaced established giants, won government-linked fuel supply contracts and expanded aggressively into landlocked markets in Uganda and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

    Since at least 2022, public discourse in Kenya has linked Stabex to President William Ruto, with allegations circulating across social media platforms and investigative blogs that the company operates as a proxy vehicle for presidential business interests.

    The allegations first gained traction through posts by political blogger Robert Alai and were amplified by journalist Saddique Shaban, who specifically linked Stabex to a multimillion-dollar petroleum supply contract with the Kenya Defence Forces, characterising the company as a Ruto proxy operation.

    The company has never publicly addressed the claims, and no formal legal proceedings have been brought to challenge the allegations. Company records do not show President Ruto or any member of his immediate family as a shareholder.

    What is documented is the pattern of access.

    In August 2023, Chebett held a meeting with Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni at which the latter personally committed to facilitating Stabex’s operations in Uganda by cutting through bureaucratic red tape.

    That is not the kind of introduction a petroleum trader secures through ordinary commercial channels. It is the kind of introduction that flows from political architecture.

    Chebett’s board at Stabex includes former Kenya Civil Aviation Authority Director Joseph Kiptoo Chebungei, a figure from the corridors of state.

    Chebett is also the sole director and ultimate beneficial owner of Ultra Eureka Farm Limited, incorporated in 2002, which in turn wholly owns Ultra Eureka Limited, incorporated in 2018 and nominally classified as an agronomy and farming inputs enterprise.

    It was this agronomy vehicle, carrying Chebett’s full chain of beneficial ownership, that walked into the Karen auction on the day of Gachagua’s impeachment and paid cash for Tuju’s life’s work.

    The Debt That Swallowed a Dream

    The origins of Tuju’s dispossession lie in a loan agreement signed a decade ago. In April 2015, Tuju’s company Dari Limited entered into a facility agreement with the East African Development Bank for a sum of nine point three million United States dollars, equivalent at the time to approximately Sh1.2 billion, though the figure has since ballooned with interest and penalties to over Sh4.5 billion in total claimed by EADB.

    The purpose was to develop a thirty-room luxury retirement facility on the Karen land that Tuju had acquired in 2010 alongside the African Wildlife Foundation as co-tenant and over which he became the sole registered owner in December 2014.

    Tuju maintains he was betrayed by the lender.

    His case, aired across multiple courts on two continents, is that EADB failed to disburse the full loan amount, withholding what he says was Sh294 million in additional funding he had been promised, thereby frustrating the entire development model on which his repayment plan depended.

    EADB has consistently denied this characterisation. In 2019, the High Court of Justice in England and Wales entered judgment against Tuju and ordered repayment of the debt. Kenyan courts recognised that foreign judgment in 2020.

    Screenshot

    The Court of Appeal upheld the decision in 2023. Each time Tuju sought to arrest the momentum of enforcement, the courts turned him away.

    By the time EADB instructed Garam Investments Auctioneers to proceed with the sale in October 2024, Tuju had exhausted most of his options.

    The Supreme Court had in 2023 dismissed his appeal, and an extraordinary episode unfolded at the apex bench when all five judges on the panel recused themselves after Tuju lodged a complaint with the Judicial Service Commission accusing them of predetermination.

    The recusal was dramatic but ultimately unhelpful to Tuju: the Supreme Court simultaneously declined to suspend the Court of Appeal decision, leaving EADB with a clear runway to enforcement.

    The Registrar Who Looked Away

    The sale itself, however contentious, might have been legally unremarkable had it not been for what happened at Ardhi House in the weeks that followed. Court records and affidavits filed in subsequent proceedings reveal a remarkable sequence: a valid court order barring the transfer of the Karen property was physically presented to the Ministry of Lands for registration, and an advocate instructed to log the injunction was told by officials that the order was not registrable because it contained no explicit instruction directed to the Chief Land Registrar.

    The property was transferred to Ultra Eureka Limited on February 18, 2025, ten days after the court order had been extended for a third time on February 6, 2025.

    The Chief Land Registrar at the time was David Nyambasa Nyandoro, a figure already enmeshed in his own legal battle for survival.

    The Employment and Labour Relations Court had in May 2024 revoked his appointment and directed Lands Cabinet Secretary Alice Wahome and Principal Secretary Nixon Korir to replace him with Peter Mburu Ng’ang’a.

    Nyandoro and the Attorney General appealed and secured a stay order in July 2024, allowing him to continue in office pending the appeal. It was therefore a man whose tenure was itself judicially contested who presided over the registration of a transfer that critics say was executed in contempt of court.

    Busia Senator Okiya Omtatah, who is a respondent in the Nyandoro appeal, has since moved to introduce fresh evidence at the Court of Appeal specifically linking Nyandoro’s conduct in the Tuju transfer to his fitness for office.

    Omtatah argues that Nyandoro, as the only officer in Kenya empowered to register property transfers, had a clear statutory duty under Section 68 of the Land Registration Act to register the court order inhibiting dealings with the parcel, once it was formally presented. To ignore it, he contends, was not a clerical oversight but deliberate contempt.

    “That despite being fully aware of the said orders, the appellant knowingly, wilfully and deliberately disobeyed them and on or about 18th February 2025, proceeded to register an unlawful transfer of the said property in favour of Ultra Eureka, in contempt of the orders,” Omtatah states in his court papers, adding that Nyandoro also caused the title to be converted from L.R. No. 1055/165 to a new title, Nairobi Block 47/1399, under which Ultra Eureka Limited is registered as proprietor for a 99-year term.

    Dawn Raids and Locked Gates

    For nearly a year after the October 2024 auction, Tuju and his tenants continued to occupy the Dari Business Park and its associated premises. The legal machinery was still grinding, and successive injunction applications kept enforcement tentatively at bay. That equilibrium collapsed violently in the early hours of March 14, 2026.

    Photographs and video footage broadcast nationally showed Tuju outside his own property at three in the morning as heavily armed police officers sealed off Dari Business Park along Ngong Road in Karen. The operation, executed under darkness with a show of state force that left observers unsettled, locked out Tuju and his associates and handed physical possession to Ultra Eureka Limited’s new security deployment.

    Tuju spoke to journalists by phone, conveying a message to his children that became one of the most striking images of his unravelling ordeal.

    Chebett’s version of events, filed in a replying affidavit before the High Court, records that prior to the dawn operation, the situation had already turned volatile. He claims that a group of more than fifty men forced their way onto the premises after the High Court lifted interim injunction orders, physically assaulting the security guards Ultra Eureka had deployed and injuring several of them before police were called to restore order. Tuju’s camp disputes aspects of this account.

    The courts have now produced a fresh restraining order, this time freezing further transfer or assignment of the title pending the determination of Tuju’s application before the High Court.

    That hearing is scheduled for April 7, 2026. Tuju has also lodged a parallel appeal at the Court of Appeal, meaning the battle for the Karen properties is far from concluded. In the meantime, Ultra Eureka Limited has charged the same title to Kenya Commercial Bank for a two point five million dollar loan facility, a move Tuju’s lawyers characterise as compounding the alleged contempt by encumbering land that remains under judicial dispute.

    The Question That Will Not Go Away

    The case against the Stabex-Ruto connection rests on inference, on the architecture of proximity. There is no documentary evidence placing President Ruto within the ownership chain of either Stabex International or Ultra Eureka Limited.

    The Registrar of Companies records are unambiguous: Chebett controls both entities absolutely. What cannot be dismissed so easily is the political environment in which these transactions occur.

    Chebett is a Kalenjin businessman from the Rift Valley, operating in a sector that is acutely sensitive to government goodwill, where fuel import licences, open tender system allocations and infrastructure access depend fundamentally on the disposition of the executive.

    Stabex’s rise from incorporated startup in 2009 to fourth-largest petroleum retailer in Kenya by late 2025 is a remarkable commercial achievement that has coincided precisely with the arc of Ruto’s political ascendancy, from deputy president to president.

    The company’s aviation fuel launch at JKIA in October 2024, attended by Energy Cabinet Secretary Opiyo Wandayi and Kenya Airports Authority chairman Caleb Kositany, was a statement of institutional embrace.

    Tuju, for his part, is not simply a businessman who defaulted on a bank loan.

    He is a senior political figure of the Raila Odinga era, a Luo politician who served as Cabinet Secretary under the Jubilee administration and who has since drifted to the opposition periphery.

    The optics of a man from that political alignment losing a Sh3.5 billion property for Sh450 million to a businessman linked publicly to the presidency, through a process in which the Chief Land Registrar allegedly defied a court order, are not ones that any government eager to project rule of law should be comfortable inhabiting.

    The Judiciary, through its communications office, has been unusually active in issuing public statements defending the chain of judicial decisions that culminated in Tuju’s eviction.

    It has pointed to the 2019 London judgment, the 2020 Kenyan recognition of that judgment, the 2023 Court of Appeal upholding and the Supreme Court’s refusal of interim relief as an unbroken line of lawful process.

    Justice Josephine Mongare, whose ruling of March 9, 2026 struck out Tuju’s latest suit as an abuse of process, found the case to be res judicata and a vexatious attempt to re-litigate a debt whose validity had been exhaustively determined. Her language was unsparing.

    The legal analysis may be coherent.

    The political symbolism is not so easily dissolved.

    The Tuju affair is the story of a major transaction executed on the most politically charged day of Kenya’s recent history, by a company controlled by a man whose larger corporate vehicle has been publicly, if unproven, linked to the president.

    It involves a land registrar who held office in defiance of a court order and who is alleged to have registered a property transfer in contempt of a judicial injunction.

    And it ends, at least provisionally, with armed police locking a former Cabinet Secretary out of his own premises at three in the morning.

    Those are not the hallmarks of an ordinary commercial debt recovery. They are the hallmarks of power.

    Chebett did not respond to requests for comment beyond the affidavit filed in the High Court. Stabex International Limited did not issue a public statement on the Karen acquisition. The Office of the President declined to comment on the company’s alleged links to President Ruto.

  • Revealed: How Kibaki and His Men Stole Raila’s Victory in the 2007 Election

    Revealed: How Kibaki and His Men Stole Raila’s Victory in the 2007 Election

    The afternoon of Sunday, December 30, 2007, was supposed to be the moment Kenya demonstrated to the world that it could manage a peaceful democratic transition.

    Instead, it became the hour in which a group of powerful men gathered in a State House boardroom and decided that the will of the people was an obstacle to be managed rather than a verdict to be honoured.

    What follows is drawn from NTV’s landmark investigative documentary Stolen Ballot, which aired this week to convulse a country still carrying the wounds of the violence that erupted hours after that stolen declaration, as well as from contemporaneous reporting, the public admission of Royal Media Services chairman Samuel Kamau Macharia in March 2025, international election observer records, and the findings of the Kriegler Commission.

    Together, they construct an account so detailed, so corroborated, and so chilling in its institutional precision that it can no longer be described as allegation. It is history.

    The Room Where It Was Decided

    Inside a State House boardroom, five men knew everything. President Mwai Kibaki sat among them. Flanking him were his government spokesman Alfred Mutua, the Deputy Chief of the General Staff General Julius Karangi, Head of the Public Service Francis Muthaura, and Internal Security minister John Michuki, one of the most feared political operators in the country.

    Each man had a role. Each man understood the stakes. And each man understood that what was being planned carried the seed of the violence that would follow.

    Former Chief of the Defence Forces Gen (Rtd) Julius Karangi.
    Former Chief of the Defence Forces Gen (Rtd) Julius Karangi.

    The operation was structured, according to those who later spoke on record, with the deliberate architecture of a military mission. Information was shared on a strict need-to-know basis. Different operatives were assigned isolated tasks. No one outside the five was permitted to see the full picture.

    It was General Karangi, Kenya’s most celebrated tactical commander, the man who would later mastermind the bloodless recapture of the Somali port city of Kismayu from Al-Shabaab without losing a single soldier, who gave the operation its discipline.

    His presence in that room was not incidental. He was there because what was being planned required the kind of precise, compartmentalised execution he had perfected on the battlefield.

    “I was told: we do not know how the day will end, but we know Kibaki must remain president.” — Nimrod Mbai, Kitui East MP, then police sergeant

    Mutua has since confirmed the composition of that room himself, speaking on national television in the days after Kibaki’s death in 2022.

    He described the President’s anxiety, the calls being monitored, and the mood of controlled urgency that gripped State House as the hours wore on. He did not use the word fraud. But what he described was something far more deliberate than a disputed result.

    The Tallying Centre in Chaos

    To understand what happened in State House, one must first understand what was happening at the Kenyatta International Convention Centre, where the Electoral Commission of Kenya was conducting the national tally. By the morning of December 30, the count had taken on a deeply suspicious character.

    Former ECK commissioner Jack Tumwa told NTV that commissioners had expected results to begin arriving by 10pm on election night, December 27. They did not. The following morning, results were still trickling in at a pace that mystified officials who had run elections before.

    More troublingly, some returning officers from constituencies in Nairobi itself could not be reached by telephone. Nairobi is not a remote constituency. There was no logistical excuse for the silence.

    Early results showed Raila Odinga of the Orange Democratic Movement holding a commanding lead. Media houses running parallel tallies were reporting it.

    The Nation Media Group had prepared a front page carrying the words “President-Elect” with Odinga’s photograph. It was never published.

    Then, without explanation, the character of the count changed. Results from constituencies in the Mount Kenya region, which had been conspicuously absent, arrived in a cluster.

    The numbers were startling.

    ECK chairman Samuel Kivuitu himself had been overheard remarking that if the returning officers from Kiambaa had been cooking the results, they were now overcooking them, and that even if they had decided to walk to the tallying centre on foot they would already have arrived.

    Commissioner Muturi Kigano later tried to characterise the remark as a tasteless joke. Commissioner Tumwa characterised it differently. “Really, there was something wrong,” he said. “We were very suspicious.”

    Four commissioners issued a formal statement expressing reservations about the process. They asked for transparency. They were ignored.

    Outside the hall, the government was furious with the media. Minister John Michuki convened an emergency meeting with media executives at Harambee House and accused broadcasters of inflaming tensions by reporting Odinga’s early lead from their own parallel tallies.

    KBC editor-in-chief Waithaka Waihenya was present. He described Michuki as agitated.

    The one person he recalled as calm was Muthaura, who spoke quietly. The contrast between the two men was telling. Muthaura, as events would show, already knew exactly how the situation was going to resolve.

    The Phone Call to Cut the Power

    By Sunday afternoon, the pace of events inside KICC had become unmanageable. The opposition was on the stage. William Ruto, then the Eldoret North MP, was pressing Kivuitu at close quarters, demanding verification of constituency tallies that did not match the forms signed by ODM agents.

    Martha Karua and the late Mutula Kilonzo were pressing from the Kibaki side. GSU officers had been deployed to the floor. Someone passed word that one of the politicians present was armed with a grenade.

    The government was watching and growing increasingly alarmed. The fear, Mutua later explained, was specific and legal. If Kibaki was declared the winner by the commission, Raila’s team would immediately seek a court injunction to block the swearing-in. The declaration had to happen, and it had to happen fast, and it had to happen under conditions where no judge could intervene in time.

    Mutua picked up the phone and called Philip Kisia, the managing director of KICC. The instruction was direct: cut the power to the tallying hall. Kisia declined.

    A second call came. This time, Mutua placed a cabinet minister on the line. Kisia later confirmed that the minister read out the names of officials sitting with the President at State House.

    The message was unmistakable: this was a direct order from the highest level of government.

    Kisia walked to the power room with a technician named Ombati. The rest of the staff had gone home. He threw the switch himself.

    “I told him, because I know how cameras work, to turn off the lights at KICC.” — Alfred Mutua, then Government Spokesman

    The vast hall of the KICC plunged into darkness. Opposition politicians who had been monitoring the tally table were suddenly disoriented. In the confusion, the next phase of the plan moved.

    The Secret Recording

    Before the blackout, Kivuitu had been under sustained pressure from multiple directions. He had been refusing to take Mutua’s calls. Kisia eventually persuaded him to speak with the government spokesman, and the two men spoke in Kamba for approximately ten minutes. No one present understood what was said. When the call ended, Kivuitu asked Kisia for a desk.

    Former Election Commission Chairman Samuel Kivuitu (right) addressing a press conference at KICC just before the announcement of the results of the disputed 2007 General Elections.
    Former Election Commission Chairman Samuel Kivuitu (right) addressing a press conference at KICC just before the announcement of the results of the disputed 2007 General Elections.

    He was then walked to a separate room within KICC where a KBC camera crew was waiting. The recording was done there, away from the chaotic hall, away from the rival politicians, in a controlled environment that the government had arranged. Kisia took a deliberate decision that only the national broadcaster would record the moment.

    Waihenya, receiving orders simultaneously from Mutua, Muthaura, Michuki, and a senior military officer, had already dispatched an Outside Broadcast van to State House before the declaration had even been made. He had not been told the result. He did not need to be.

    Kivuitu’s voice on that tape declared Mwai Kibaki the winner of the 2007 presidential election. The tape was then placed inside a sock worn by a member of the KBC team, as Waihenya had instructed, and taken out of the building.

    The opposition realised something was happening. They tried to break down the door of the room where the recording had been made. They were too late.

    The Extraction

    Police Sergeant Nimrod Mbai had been placed on standby since that afternoon. He had been called in from his day off by Mutua, who had brought him to the third floor of KICC and briefed him on a mission involving Kivuitu. His task was to ensure the ECK chairman could be evacuated safely if violence broke out inside the tallying centre.

    Mbai was not selected at random. He was one of a small number of officers with a special access card that allowed movement through every section of the building.

    He had been taken to a CID shooting range earlier that afternoon where his weapon, a Ceska pistol, was test-fired. Officers then offered him a second firearm in case the first jammed.

    He declined the second gun. He had been told, in terms he found unmistakable, that what was about to happen was expected to be dangerous.

    The two men, Mbai and Kivuitu, had met earlier and agreed on a coded password. When it was spoken, Kivuitu would know it was time to move.

    The moment the lights went out, Mbai stepped forward, tapped Kivuitu on the shoulder, and said the word. He took a green file from the table, which he was told contained the electoral results.

    The two men left through a side exit and descended to the basement parking. Kivuitu was elderly and asked to be taken slowly.

    The walk that Mbai, an athlete, could have completed in one minute took four. His own description of what was running through his mind in those four minutes belongs to the historical record of what Kenya did to itself that evening: “This was war in my mind.”

    Outside KICC, a vehicle was waiting. Alfred Mutua was driving. The car was immediately flanked by a security convoy. It moved through Nairobi toward State House at speed. At the gate, officers were already waiting.

    Five Minutes to Air

    Former Kenya Broadcasting Corporation Editor-in-Chief Waithaka Waihenya.

    Back at KBC’s studios, Waihenya was surrounded by GSU officers. He could not move to the toilet without an armed escort. One of the calls he received that evening threatened him directly. He was told the situation was bigger than him and that he had better announce the results.

    He refused to be pressured, but he had the tape, and he had his orders, and within five minutes of returning to the studio, Kivuitu’s pre-recorded declaration was broadcast on the national broadcaster.

    Waihenya later revealed that as the broadcast went live, he could hear the President’s voice on a speakerphone that had not been switched off. Kibaki said, in Swahili, that he wanted to see it on television. He saw it.

    Minutes later, at State House, Mutua walked into the room and told the President what had happened. “Kibaki hugged me,” Mutua said. “It was the first time he hugged me.” Muthaura and Michuki embraced. The relief was physical. Outside the compound, Kenya was beginning to burn.

    The Macharia Confession

    The NTV documentary did not emerge in a vacuum. Its most devastating corroboration came not from the documentary itself but from a speech delivered a year before it aired, at a funeral in Machakos on March 15, 2025.

    Royal Media Services chairman Samuel Kamau Macharia stood up to honour a dead friend, retired Colonel James Gitahi, and fulfilled a pact they had made: whichever of them died first, the other would tell the truth about 2007.

    Macharia told the mourners that his network’s parallel tallying system had given him complete data showing Odinga had won the election. His data showed a margin of 1.8 million votes in Odinga’s favour. He was then, he said, taken from his home at night. All the returning officers from the Mount Kenya region were rounded up.

    Their official Forms 16A were taken. Macharia was transported to his own office, where he found men whose names he chose not to give. Together, they changed the figures. Kibaki won.

    The Macharia statement was reported widely and dismissed by some as the grieving embellishments of an elderly political partisan. In light of the NTV documentary and the accounts of Mbai, Kisia, Waihenya, and the ECK commissioners, it is considerably harder to make that dismissal.

    “Our data was showing Raila had won with 1.8 million votes. I was picked from my house at night… we changed all those figures, and Kibaki won.” — S.K. Macharia, RMS Chairman, March 2025

    What the International Record Shows

    Kenya did not conduct this operation unobserved. The European Union’s chief election observer, Alexander Graf Lambsdorff, declared the elections flawed, finding that the ECK had failed to establish the credibility of the tallying process to the satisfaction of all parties.

    The EU noted specific constituencies where results read out in the presence of their observers did not match the tallies later announced by the commission. In the Molo constituency, the discrepancy was flagged explicitly.

    The Carter Center raised similar concerns. A diplomatic cable from the United States Embassy in Nairobi, declassified and published in 2012, showed that Ambassador Michael Ranneberger assessed the situation in five different scenarios and concluded that in all of them the margin of victory for either side was slim and ultimately unknowable.

    His cable did note evidence of rigging on both sides, a qualification that has been cited by Kibaki’s defenders but which does not in any way address the specific sequence of institutional fraud described by the insiders who have now spoken.

    ECK chairman Kivuitu himself, speaking on January 2, 2008, told journalists outside his Nairobi home that he did not know whether Kibaki had won the election. He said he had been pressured by the PNU to announce the results. He said he had contemplated resignation.

    He did not resign. He went to a room in KICC, he spoke in Kamba for ten minutes with Mutua, he asked for a desk, and he read a result into a KBC camera.

    The Kriegler Commission, established under the terms of the Kofi Annan-brokered peace deal, found that electoral fraud had been rampant and had begun at the polling station level.

    Its central and devastating conclusion was that the errors and manipulations in the tallying process were so great and so widespread that it was impossible to reconstruct from the formal record who had actually won.

    That conclusion has often been cited as grounds for ambiguity. It is more accurately read as a legal description of evidence destruction.

    The Legal Vacuum and the Price Paid

    The declaration triggered violence within minutes. Across Nairobi and in the Rift Valley, the Nyanza region, and Mombasa, communities that had voted for Odinga in overwhelming numbers took to the streets. Police opened fire with live ammunition.

    In Eldoret, a church sheltering Kikuyu families was set alight. More than 1,000 Kenyans died. Six hundred thousand were displaced. The country did not recover its institutional confidence for years and arguably has not recovered it fully even now.

    Kofi Annan brokered a power-sharing deal that installed Odinga as Prime Minister under a Grand Coalition Government. Kenya got a new constitution in 2010. The ECK was dissolved. But no one was charged with the theft of the election.

    No one was prosecuted for the midnight roundup of returning officers in the Mount Kenya region.

    No one answered in court for the switching of the KICC power supply, the pre-arranged recording, the pre-positioned OB van at State House, the password-activated extraction of Kivuitu through a darkened building by an armed officer who had been told this was war.

    Commissioner Tumwa has since said plainly that he believes Odinga was denied the presidency by manipulation. He said, with the weight of having been in that hall, that he thinks Raila Odinga would have won.

    A Reckoning Eighteen Years Late

    What is remarkable about the week in which the NTV documentary Stolen Ballot has aired is not that new facts have emerged. Most of these facts have been in circulation in fragments for years. What is remarkable is that the men who were present have now spoken with a directness that the passage of time and the deaths of Kibaki and Kivuitu have made possible. Mutua confirmed the core of the operation on national television years ago.

    Mbai, now a member of parliament, has given chapter-and-verse testimony. Kisia has confirmed he threw the switch. Waihenya has described the sock, the GSU escort, the speakerphone on which he heard the President’s voice. Macharia has described the night abduction and the altered forms.

    Against this record, Commissioner Kigano’s insistence that the Electoral Commission simply announced whatever the returning officers delivered is not a defence. It is a description of the mechanism by which the fraud was laundered through an institution designed to provide it with legal cover.

    What the country is owed is not merely acknowledgement but a formal reckoning: a truth process with legal authority, the ability to compel testimony, and the mandate to establish an official record. Kenya paid for the absence of such a process in blood.

    It continues to pay for it in the corrosive distrust that attaches to every election result, every commission, every announcement from a podium about the people’s choice.

    The lights at KICC went out at Mutua’s instruction. They have not fully come back on since.

  • Investigations Reveal The Depth Of Rot In City Hall’s Garbage Collection Tender To Corrupt Ghanaian Firm

    Investigations Reveal The Depth Of Rot In City Hall’s Garbage Collection Tender To Corrupt Ghanaian Firm

    At 5.05 on the morning of Monday, February 16, 2026, a technical delegation from City Hall was scheduled to board a Kenya Airways flight at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, bound for Accra.

    Their mission, conducted in conditions of unusual secrecy, was framed as a due diligence exercise: to inspect the facilities of Zoomlion Ghana Limited, a waste management company to which Nairobi County Government had, six days earlier, awarded a multibillion-shilling, twenty-year contract.

    The chairman of the tender evaluation committee, Engineer Charles Ngugi Gathara, never made it onto that plane. He collapsed at the airport after suffering a sudden illness and was pronounced dead. His colleagues departed without him.

    That a man died while preparing to perform due diligence on a deal that had already been awarded ought, under any functioning procurement regime, to have been the least of the questions raised by the City Hall-Zoomlion transaction.

    It was not. The Zoomlion contract, formally designated Tender No. NCC/ENV/RFP/109/2025-2026, is now the subject of a High Court conservatory order, a damning internal technical review, a separate Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission inquiry in Mombasa, and a chorus of civil society outrage that has drawn comparisons to Ghana’s own long experience of being looted by the very company Nairobi has now embraced.

    Investigations by Kenya Insights, drawing on court filings, procurement documents, internal government communications, international debarment records and multiple sources within City Hall and the National Treasury, reveal a procurement so fundamentally compromised that it calls into question not merely the contract itself but the integrity of every institution that permitted it to proceed.

    THE DEAL IN PLAIN TERMS

    The contract grants Zoomlion Ghana Limited exclusive rights to design, construct, operate, maintain and eventually transfer an integrated solid waste management system for Nairobi City County.

    The scope encompasses waste collection and haulage across the capital, control of the 76-acre Dandora dumpsite, sorting, recycling and disposal infrastructure, and the construction of a waste-to-energy facility that the national government has projected could generate electricity and produce fertiliser by 2027.

    The tenure is twenty years, a period that will outlast at least three gubernatorial terms and bind administrations not yet elected to a contract whose full financial terms have not been made public.

    The notification of award was issued in United States dollars, an irregularity that raised immediate concern among Treasury officials who reviewed the agreement.

    No dedicated funding mechanism, no escrow arrangement, no defined management fee schedule, and no guaranteed minimum waste supply commitment appear in the contract as reviewed by City Hall’s own technical team.

    That team characterised the document as providing Zoomlion with what amounted to a blank cheque drawn on the public of Nairobi.

    “Several commercial and financial safeguards require strengthening. The absence of provisions addressing ISPO arrangements, escrow mechanisms, clearly defined management fee schedules, guaranteed minimum waste supply and dedicated funding sources may expose the project to operational and financial risks.” — City Hall Technical Review

    Zoomlion Waste Services Limited, the Kenyan vehicle for the deal, was incorporated on August 23, 2025 with Zoomlion Ghana Limited listed as the sole shareholder and two Ghanaian nationals, Said Haidar and Joseph Kwame Siaw Agyepong, listed as directors.

    A single Kenyan, Mombasa lawyer Heeral Vishal Soni, appears as a director without shares.

    The incorporation of the local entity preceded the advertising of the tender by nearly four months, a sequence that procurement specialists say is consistent with a tender designed around a pre-selected beneficiary.

    THE SOLE BIDDER PROBLEM

    The tender was advertised on December 18, 2025, on the City Hall website and the Public Procurement Information Portal. Bids closed and were opened on January 8, 2026. Zoomlion Ghana Limited was the only entity to submit a response.

    In a project of this scale, complexity and duration, involving the primary waste infrastructure of a capital city of more than six million people, a single bid is not a market outcome.

    It is an administrative outcome: the product of deliberate choices about how a tender is structured, priced, timed and classified.

    A senior official in the National Treasury reviewed the tender documents and told Kenya Insights that the procurement was misconceived from inception.

    The project, by virtue of its financing, construction and long-term operational components, falls squarely within the Public Private Partnership Act 2021 and should have been processed through the PPP Directorate under the National Treasury.

    Instead, it was run under the Public Procurement and Asset Disposal Act 2015, a choice that stripped it of the safeguards that apply to major infrastructure concessions.

    The minimum advertising period for an open international tender is 21 days; without international classification the period can be compressed in ways that effectively exclude foreign competitors who might otherwise have entered the field.

    The tender document contains a clause stating that the process is open to both local and international bidders.

    However, the document bears none of the required classification initials that legally designate a tender as either Open National Tender or Open International Tender.

    In the absence of those designations, Kenyan companies were nominally eligible while the structural conditions of the tender ensured that only a firm already positioned and incorporated in Kenya before the advertisement could realistically respond within the window available.

    Zoomlion Waste Services Limited had been in existence for exactly that purpose since August.

    A HISTORY OF BRIBERY, OVERBILLING AND SCANDAL

    The company at the centre of this arrangement is not a newcomer to controversy. Zoomlion Ghana Limited and two subsidiaries, Accra Compost Plant and Zoom Alliance, were formally debarred by the World Bank in 2013 after an investigation found that the company had paid bribes to facilitate contract execution and invoice processing on the World Bank-financed Emergency Monrovia Urban Sanitation Project in Liberia.

    The debarment barred Zoomlion and its affiliates from bidding on any World Bank-funded contracts worldwide.

    The sanction remained in force until 2015, when the company entered into a Negotiated Resolution Agreement with the Bank, acknowledged the misconduct and agreed to strengthen compliance with integrity standards.

    The company’s own tender documents for the Nairobi bid contained an eligibility requirement stating that bidders must not have been blacklisted or debarred from participating in tenders by any national or state government agencies, autonomous bodies or institutions.

    Zoomlion met that criterion only by virtue of having subsequently resolved its debarment through negotiation.

    Whether that resolution, which involved an admission of wrongdoing, satisfies the spirit of a requirement designed to exclude corrupt actors is a question that City Hall’s procurement officials have conspicuously declined to answer.

    In Ghana itself, the record is substantially worse. Beginning in 2013, investigative journalist Manasseh Azure Awuni exposed the scale of corruption within the Ghana Youth Employment and Entrepreneurial Development Agency, known as GYEEDA, in what became one of the most significant procurement scandals in Ghanaian public life.

    A government ministerial committee confirmed the findings. Between 2009 and 2012, nearly 500 million dollars was spent through GYEEDA. Zoomlion and other companies within the Jospong Group were identified as primary beneficiaries.

    The committee found that Zoomlion received payments for work not done and systematically overcharged the government. As a single representative instance, the company charged the government 25 million cedis more than was warranted for providing tricycles.

    The committee recommended the discontinuation of Zoomlion’s contracts. Successive Ghanaian administrations declined to act.

    The Ghanaian Auditor-General returned to Zoomlion repeatedly in subsequent years. One report documented a waste bin contract, awarded on a sole-source basis to the Jospong Group, that was inflated by at least 130 million cedis.

    Another found that 98 million cedis had been paid to eleven Jospong-linked companies for fumigation services already covered under Zoomlion’s existing contractual obligations.

    Police investigations into the fumigation agreements were launched but produced no convictions. Under the Youth Employment Agency initiative, the arrangement that structured Zoomlion’s sweeper programme, the government paid 850 cedis per worker per month, of which only 250 cedis reached the workers themselves.

    Zoomlion retained 600 cedis per worker as a management fee, an arrangement that labour rights advocates characterised as structurally exploitative.

    Despite cabinet directives under President John Mahama’s first administration ordering the termination of Zoomlion’s sanitation contract, the company continued rendering services to the state after its contract expired in February 2013 and accumulated debts owed to it by the government in excess of 450 million cedis.

    In June 2025, President Mahama, returned to office after the 2024 elections, finally terminated the Youth Employment Agency contract with Zoomlion entirely, citing transparency concerns and the exploitative compensation structure. All payments made to Zoomlion after the original contract’s expiration were ordered into an audit.

    Jospong Group Executive Chairman Dr Joseph Siaw Agyepong, the controlling figure behind Zoomlion and listed as a director of Zoomlion Waste Services in Kenya, is simultaneously facing contempt proceedings in a Ghanaian High Court. In late 2025, he and three others were charged with flouting court orders after allegedly entering disputed land and directing the destruction of property belonging to Royal Bell Investment Limited and Terraform Development Limited despite the existence of a court order and a penal notice served upon them.

    The application before the Ghanaian court sought his committal to imprisonment.

    STATE HOUSE FINGERPRINTS

    The Zoomlion contract did not emerge in a vacuum within City Hall. The connection between State House and the award runs through a specific sequence of events. On August 13, 2025, President William Ruto attended the Devolution Conference in Homa Bay.

    The Jospong Group of Companies had been allocated a stand at the conference.

    President Ruto visited that stand on the opening day and publicly praised Zoomlion for its waste management technology and facilities in Ghana. Eight days later, Zoomlion Waste Services Limited was incorporated in Kenya.

    President Ruto and Sakaja in a past event.

    In a public address delivered in Nairobi on January 20, 2026, eleven days before the formal notification of award to Zoomlion, President Ruto confirmed directly that his administration was involved in the procurement process.

    He said at the time: “The national government is going to support the county government to deal with the menace of waste and garbage in Nairobi. There is procurement the county is doing; we are supporting them so that we provide a lasting solution to that challenge.”

    Sources with knowledge of the arrangement told Kenya Insights that awareness of the Zoomlion deal was confined to a small number of individuals at State House and City Hall throughout the procurement and contracting stages, with the details kept deliberately opaque.

    Governor Johnson Sakaja, for his part, has defended the contract in public primarily by speaking around it: insisting that no county functions have been ceded to the national government, invoking Section 6 of the Urban Areas and Cities Act 2019 to justify special financing arrangements for Nairobi as Kenya’s capital, and pointing to the scale of the city’s waste generation, approximately 3,000 metric tonnes daily, as justification for an ambitious intervention.

    He has not addressed the procurement irregularities identified by his own technical team, the eligibility questions arising from Zoomlion’s debarment history, or the absence of the financial safeguards that his officials found missing from the agreement.

    THE MAN WHO DIED BEFORE THE WHITEWASH

    Engineer Charles Ngugi Gathara had served for more than a decade as Deputy Director for Water and Sanitation at City Hall before being appointed to chair the Zoomlion tender evaluation committee. He was 49 years old.

    On the morning of February 16, 2026, he arrived at JKIA ahead of the flight to Accra, intending to lead a delegation that would verify, after the fact, the capacity and facilities of a company to which a contract had already been awarded. Aviation workers had gone on strike that morning, disrupting departures.

    While waiting for the situation to resolve, Gathara began vomiting and collapsed. He was pronounced dead. His colleagues, once a Kenya Airways flight eventually departed at 8.53 in the evening, flew to Accra without him and spent three days visiting Zoomlion’s operations at the company’s invitation. Engineer Gathara was buried on February 27, 2026, at his home village in Gathondo, Embu County.

    The decision to proceed with the Ghana trip without him, on the day of his death, has drawn quiet condemnation within City Hall.

    More fundamentally, the entire exercise exposed the character of what passed for due diligence in this procurement.

    An evaluation committee, headed by a Water and Sanitation official rather than a specialist in solid waste management or PPP finance, was assembled to travel to a company’s premises and see a presentation prepared by that company, after the contract had already been awarded.

    Walter Omwenga, the Deputy Director for Environment and Final Disposal who was among those who made the Accra trip, told Kenya Insights before the delegation departed that due diligence by definition required physically verifying that a bidder had the capacity described in their documents before a contract is signed. He did not explain why that verification was taking place after signing.

    THE COURT STEPS IN

    On March 5, 2026, Justice Moses Ado of the Milimani Commercial and Tax Division issued a conservatory order barring the Nairobi County Government, its Environment Chief Officer, its Director of Supply Chain Management and the County Secretary from executing or implementing the contract pending the hearing and determination of a petition challenging the deal.

    The order was obtained on an application filed by Jeremy Kinyua Emilio, who contends that the award to Zoomlion was illegal and unconstitutional, among other grounds because it was executed without the required approval of the Attorney General.

    Kinyua raised specific concerns about the Sh50 million bank guarantee submitted by Zoomlion as part of the tender, describing it as disproportionately low relative to the evident scale and value of the project.

    The figure is consistent with procurement documents that deliberately obscured the total contract sum: the tender, as advertised, specified no price. The conservatory order was granted pending a mention scheduled for March 16, 2026, for further directions.

    The petition additionally argues that at least two local companies are currently executing waste management contracts in Nairobi under earlier tenders, one for the supply of heavy equipment and machinery at Dandora, another for solid waste collection in Kibra, and that the Zoomlion concession threatens to displace those arrangements.

    Some of those contractors had already encountered delays in receiving county payments at the time the Zoomlion contract was awarded, an irony that has not been lost on the market.

    MOMBASA’S WARNING AND A NATIONAL PATTERN

    Nairobi is not the first Kenyan county to be drawn into the Jospong Group’s orbit.

    In October 2025, it emerged that Mombasa County, under Governor Abdulswamad Shariff Nassir, had already signed a 35-year waste management contract with a Jospong entity worth Sh17 billion.

    The Centre for Litigation Trust, a Mombasa-based civil society organisation, filed a High Court petition demanding disclosure of the procurement process and public participation records.

    The Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission has opened an investigation into the Mombasa arrangement. That investigation was ongoing when Nairobi signed its own, structurally similar, contract four months later.

    The pattern is being remarked upon by governance specialists with mounting alarm. Two of Kenya’s largest urban county governments have now awarded long-term waste management concessions to Jospong Group entities under procurement conditions that critics describe as opaque, legally deficient and designed to exclude competition.

    There is documented concern within government circles that other counties may follow, creating the conditions for a nationwide monopoly over one of municipal government’s most revenue-generating and publicly sensitive functions, held by a foreign company that Ghana itself has now repudiated.

    WHAT THE LAW REQUIRED, AND WHAT WAS DONE

    The Public Procurement and Asset Disposal Act 2015 requires that PPP projects above defined financial thresholds receive approval from the PPP Directorate and be subjected to competitive bidding processes designed to ensure value for money.

    The PPP Act 2021 sets out a distinct regulatory framework for arrangements involving private financing, construction and long-term operation of public infrastructure.

    By classifying the Zoomlion transaction as a local Request for Proposal rather than an international PPP concession, City Hall bypassed the PPP Directorate entirely, eliminated the requirement for international competitive advertising and compressed the timeline in a manner that precluded meaningful market participation.

    Senior procurement officials who reviewed the process for this publication used the word “irregular” with consistent frequency.

    Legal experts have separately warned that the structure of the contract, particularly the twenty-year tenure and the exclusive access to Dandora, is sufficient to sustain a successful legal challenge by any company that was denied the opportunity to compete.

    The Nairobi County Assembly was not consulted. Public participation records, required by statute for projects of this duration and character, have not been made available.

    The County Cabinet has not published any resolution approving the engagement on the disclosed terms. The terms themselves, including the financial model, the payment schedule, the revenue-sharing arrangement for recycling proceeds and the liability regime, have not been disclosed to the public whose assets and funds the contract deploys over the next two decades.

    THE COST OF WHAT WAS NOT DONE

    Dandora has operated for four decades as one of the most egregious examples of institutional failure in the history of Kenyan urban governance.

    In February 2026, the Environment and Land Court awarded Sh25.8 million in damages to 1,032 waste pickers whose constitutional rights were found to have been violated by their prolonged exposure to air pollution at the site.

    Both the Nairobi County Government and the National Environment Management Authority were found jointly responsible for permitting those conditions to persist.

    That judgment landed in the same week as the Zoomlion contract was being defended in public by the same county government that had just been found complicit in the suffering of the people who live and work at the dump.

    The city generates 3,000 metric tonnes of waste daily. The sector, if managed transparently and competitively, could sustain significant recycling revenue and waste-to-energy income for the public good.

    The question that the Zoomlion contract poses is not whether Nairobi needs a modern waste management system. It does, urgently and without further delay.

    The question is whether a company with Zoomlion’s documented record of bribery, fraudulent billing and exploitative labour practices, admitted in writing to the World Bank, exposed by an independent press and confirmed by multiple government bodies in its home country, and finally terminated by the government that spawned it, was the appropriate vehicle through which to pursue that transformation.

    The answer that City Hall’s own technical team gave to that question, in language that its political principals have chosen to disregard, was an unambiguous no.

  • The Confession, The Child, The Forged Documents and The Silenced Commission: Havi Lays Bare The Full Architecture Of Corruption Behind The Tuju Property Saga

    The Confession, The Child, The Forged Documents and The Silenced Commission: Havi Lays Bare The Full Architecture Of Corruption Behind The Tuju Property Saga

    Nelson Havi has been practising Kenyan law for three decades. He has stood before every court the country possesses. He has served as president of the Law Society of Kenya and, by general consensus across the bar, has no institutional territory left to protect that would require him to moderate what he says in public.

    When Havi speaks in the language of accusation, the legal profession listens, because he has shown no hesitation in putting his name to things that others only say in their cars.

    In the past 72 hours, he has put his name to the most concentrated series of judicial corruption allegations to emerge from a single dispute in Kenya’s post-independence legal history. He has named a sitting High Court judge as the intended recipient of a bribe. He has alleged that one of the arrested men claims to share a child with that judge.

    He has pointed to forgery of documents filed in court by a Senior Counsel at a leading Nairobi law firm. He has alleged that the English arbitration award forming the foundation of the entire debt recovery exercise was itself corruptly procured. And he has accused the Judicial Service Commission not merely of inaction but of active participation in protecting corrupt judges by accepting bribes to dismiss formal complaints.

    Each allegation is serious on its own.

    Together they constitute a theory of total institutional capture: a commercial dispute in which the corruption did not begin with the Karen auctioneers who showed up on Monday morning, but with the original deal, ran through the London arbitration, infected the Kenyan court proceedings, enlisted the document process, co-opted the disciplinary commission, and finally placed a disgraced former judge at the gate of a former Cabinet secretary’s property to collect one last payment for the judge now presiding over the case.

    “The level of corruption in the Judiciary in general, and in this matter in particular, is so egregious that I cannot agree to be persuaded by the popular but uninformed narrative that this is a case of a defaulter debtor abusing the legal process not to pay. It is not.”

    The Confession and the Child

    Havi’s most incendiary disclosure is not the naming of Lady Justice Josephine Wayua Wambua Mongare as the alleged beneficiary of the Sh10.4 million bribery scheme. It is what he added about the personal relationship alleged between the judge and one of the men arrested on March 9, 2026 by the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission.

    “One of the men arrested on Monday soliciting for a bribe represented that he has a child with the judge on whose behalf he was soliciting,” Havi wrote. He did not name which of the four arrested suspects made this claim. The EACC has confirmed that former High Court judge Joseph Mutava, advocate Kimani Wachira and two other individuals were taken into custody and processed at the Integrity Centre Police Station in Nairobi. The commission has said the matter will be forwarded to the Director of Public Prosecutions for charging. It has not addressed the claim about the child.

    Havi has separately stated, in what amounts to direct attribution, that Mutava confessed to investigators that he was collecting the money on behalf of Mongare.

    The significance of this claim is structural. Mutava was removed from the High Court bench in 2016 following a tribunal chaired by David Maraga that found him to have improperly handled cases, including a matter involving businessman Kamlesh Pattni. His removal was upheld by the Supreme Court.

    A man with that record, allegedly dispatched by a sitting judge to collect money from a litigant on the day that judge delivers her ruling in his case, is not a peripheral detail in the story of how the Kenyan judiciary functions. It is the story.

    Mongare has not commented. Her chambers have issued no statement. The Chief Justice’s office has been silent. The JSC has produced nothing. Mongare continues to sit as a judge of the Commercial and Tax Division at Milimani, her cases proceeding on schedule, as if none of this exists.

    The Forgery Allegation: A Senior Counsel and a Leading Law Firm

    The second strand of Havi’s expanded statement concerns the integrity of the documents on which the entire case was built. Addressing those who frame the Tuju dispute as a simple matter of debt evasion, he asked: “Why are you disregarding the forgery of documents filed in Court by a Senior Counsel in a leading Ivy League Law Firm?”

    He did not name the firm or the counsel in this particular post.

    But the identity of the Senior Counsel concerned is already a matter of public record, established by Tuju himself in a formal complaint submitted to the Directorate of Criminal Investigations in February 2026.

    Tuju named Senior Counsel Fred Ojiambo of Kaplan and Stratton Advocates as the subject of his report, accusing Ojiambo of fabricating evidence and filing false affidavits in cases linked to the East Africa Development Bank.

    Tuju’s complaint to the DCI alleged that Ojiambo’s conduct amounted to fabricating evidence contrary to Section 113 of the Penal Code, conspiracy to defeat justice contrary to Section 117 and providing false information to a public servant contrary to Section 129.

    He accused Ojiambo of invoking what he characterised as a non-existent diplomatic immunity for the EADB at the High Court, a manoeuvre Tuju alleged had caused proceedings in a related Magistrates Court matter to stall for over a year. He also alleged that the false affidavits filed in the EADB dispute bore resemblance to documents previously submitted at the Supreme Court level in the proceedings against him and his company, Dari Limited.

    Ojiambo denied the allegations when contacted by media, stating that he had never forged court documents or affidavits. The DCI confirmed it had received Tuju’s complaint and would make recommendations to the DPP. No charges have been filed.

    But the complaint sits on the public record, now amplified by Havi’s platform, and it answers the specific question that commentators and legal bloggers have persistently raised: if Tuju’s dispute is simply a debt he cannot pay, why is he making allegations about forged documents? According to Havi, and now according to a DCI complaint with specific penal code references, the answer is that the documents may not all be genuine.

    The timing of this allegation is notable because of what else was happening inside the courtroom during the same period.

    In November 2025, before Justice Mongare in an application by Dari Limited seeking to reopen the enforcement question, the EADB’s own former Kenya Country Manager, David Odongo, took the stand and, according to Tuju’s account of his testimony, completely recanted the affidavit evidence he had previously filed.

    Tuju described this as newly discovered material capable of altering the entire outcome of the matter. Justice Mongare dismissed the application on March 9, 2026, ruling that the recanted evidence was neither new nor capable of altering her earlier findings and that the matter was barred by res judicata and sub judice principles.

    For Havi, the sequence in which a bank officer recants his sworn evidence, a Senior Counsel is accused of forgery, and the court nevertheless proceeds to grant the bank’s position in full on the same day that the presiding judge’s alleged bagman is arrested outside does not resolve as a coincidence. It resolves as a system.

    The Arbitration: Corrupting the Foundation

    The third element of Havi’s argument is the most legally sophisticated, and the one with the largest structural consequences if pursued. He asked, with visible impatience, why commentators were “ignoring the uncontested allegations of corruption between the arbitrator and one of the parties together with its Advocate” in the English proceedings that produced the foundational award.

    The dispute’s genesis in English courts is well established in the public record. The East African Development Bank obtained a judgment from the High Court of Justice in England in June 2019, after arbitration proceedings, ordering repayment of over USD 15 million arising from a loan facility agreement signed in April 2015 between the bank and Tuju’s company, Dari Limited.

    That judgment was recognised and registered in Kenya in 2020, upheld by the Court of Appeal in 2023, and allowed to stand by the Supreme Court’s refusal to suspend enforcement. Every Kenyan court to have considered the matter has treated the English award as valid, final and enforceable.

    Havi’s position, delivered without qualification, is that the award is not valid. His legal basis for that position is elementary and well-established in international arbitration jurisprudence: an award or judgment obtained by corruption is null and void. This is not a controversial proposition.

    The principle that corruption vitiates an arbitral award is deeply embedded in the public policy exception to enforcement recognised in the New York Convention on the Recognition and Enforcement of Foreign Arbitral Awards, which Kenya has ratified.

    It is the principle on which Nigeria succeeded in the English High Court in 2023 in overturning an USD 11 billion arbitration award in the P&ID case, where the court found that the award had been obtained through the most severe abuses of the arbitral process.

    Havi has further pointed to what he described as cases where securities given for lending have been exempted from realisation through auctions or private treaties on account of corruption, fraud, unfairness and unconscionableness on the part of the bank.

    He grounded this in a reference to the Supreme Court Act, noting that it initially contained a section for the invalidation of a judgment of a judge removed from office for unsuitability to serve, a section that was, in his words, “removed mysteriously.”

    The implication is that the legislative architecture which would have provided a direct remedy for a corrupted judgment was deliberately dismantled, and that the absence of that provision now forces the courts to rely on more cumbersome paths to the same destination.

     

    Whether Tuju’s legal team can produce the evidence necessary to ground a corruption challenge to the English award is a question that will determine the future of this litigation. But Havi’s point is prior to that evidentiary question. He is asking why the institutional commentators, the bar association, the Judiciary, the media, are treating the award as sacrosanct when its procurement has been publicly alleged to be corrupt and those allegations have not been contested on the merits.

    The Debt Argument: ‘Sisi Siyo Wajinga’

    Havi addressed directly the popular framing that Tuju is simply a debtor evading his obligations. He did not dispute that Tuju and his companies owe money. He made a more provocative and more interesting argument.

    “Listen friends and enemies, the issue is not whether Raphael Tuju and his companies are in debt or default. Everyone is. In fact, the Government of Kenya is in debt and in default,” he wrote. He asked whether the conclusion to be drawn is that goons should be sent to government offices, and everyone in debt should face corruptly obtained auction orders.

    He turned to the specific buyers who allegedly arrived at the Karen property claiming to have purchased it: Mr Chebet, Mr Kiprono and Mr Kiprop, named by Tuju himself. “You want to tell me that it is only Kiprono, Kiprop and Chebet who have billions of shillings in the collapsed economy to buy someone’s hotels in an auction when everyone, including the Government of Kenya where they serve and/or are doing business with, are broke? Sisi siyo wajinga ma Fren.”

    The argument is not legally technical. It is politically shrewd. In an economy where the government has repeatedly acknowledged its own fiscal distress, where debt service consumes the majority of the national budget and Treasury bills are sold to bridge monthly salary obligations, the emergence of private buyers with the immediate liquidity to acquire multi-billion shilling properties at distressed auction prices invites questions about the origin of that capital that no court in the country is currently asking. Havi is asking them in public.

    His framing also serves a secondary purpose. By establishing that debt and default are universal conditions in the current Kenyan economy, he dissolves the moral framework in which the bank, the auctioneers and the court are cast as enforcers of legitimate commercial order against an unworthy debtor.

    If the enforcement mechanism is itself corrupt, from the arbitration through the documents through the judge through the commission, then the identity of Tuju as a debtor becomes irrelevant to the question of whether the process is legitimate.

    The JSC: A Commission That Watches and Does Nothing

    The Judicial Service Commission received a public allegation from a Senior Counsel on a verified social media platform stating that a sitting judge was the intended recipient of a criminal bribe in an active case. It has said nothing. This is not unusual. The commission has a documented history of inaction in the face of specific, evidenced complaints about individual judges, including complaints filed by Havi himself.

    In July 2025, Havi filed a formal sworn petition seeking the removal of Lady Justice Mongare over her conduct in a separate commercial matter.

    In January 2025, he filed a formal petition seeking the removal of Justice Alfred Mabeya over a pattern of conduct in the Commercial Division that Havi described as gross misconduct and misbehaviour. In August 2025, the JSC dismissed the Mabeya petition on jurisdictional grounds.

    The Mongare petition produced no recorded outcome. Havi’s allegation this week is that both judges bribed their way clear of formal accountability, rendering the commission not a safeguard against judicial corruption but its most reliable protection.

    The Mabeya complaint record adds texture that the JSC has not been required to account for publicly. A 2015 complaint against Mabeya was withdrawn after the complainant was, according to reporting at the time, financially induced to abandon it.

    A 2020 petition seeking his removal was similarly withdrawn in circumstances that were never explained. In December 2024, Havi named specific Senior Counsel who he alleged had never lost a case before Mabeya, suggesting a structured commercial relationship between the judge and certain practitioners in the Commercial Division.

    The JSC received Havi’s formal petition in January 2025 and disposed of it in August 2025 on grounds that kept the substance of the allegations entirely unexamined.

    If Havi’s characterisation of the commission is accurate, then the body constitutionally charged with maintaining judicial integrity has been converted into a mechanism for laundering judicial corruption. Complaints enter. Money changes hands. Complaints exit, classified as jurisdictionally defective or lacking in merit. The judges return to their benches. The cases continue. The auctioneers arrive.

    Tuju at the Wall

    Raphael Tuju stood at the gate of his Dari Business Park on Ngong Road this week and delivered the statement of a man who has decided that the language of law cannot reach him any further. “They will have to kill me first and organise a big burial for me in Rarieda before they take this property.” He has litigated in London.

    He has appealed in Nairobi. He has petitioned the Supreme Court. He has filed complaints with the Land Registrar, the DCI, the EACC. He has watched his applications dismissed. He has watched property transfers proceed through what he alleges were subsisting court orders.

    He has watched a DCI officer escort buyers from Ultra Eureka Limited to his premises in January 2025. He has watched a bank official who swore affidavits against him recant those same affidavits on the witness stand, only for the recantation to be classified as evidence that could not alter the outcome.

    And now he has watched a former judge be arrested at his gate, claiming to collect money for the judge inside.

    Nelson Havi’s warning is the one that the legal establishment most needs to hear, even if it is the one least likely to be acknowledged.

    When a man who has exhausted every available legal remedy concludes that the institutions are not failing him by accident but by design, and when a Senior Counsel with three decades of standing says publicly that he agrees, the conversation has moved beyond procedural reform and entered the territory of constitutional emergency.

    The Judicial Service Commission has not spoken. Lady Justice Mongare has not spoken. The Chief Justice has not spoken.

    Kenya’s courts have a long tradition of demanding that litigants trust the process. Raphael Tuju has trusted the process. He trusted it in London in 2019. He trusted it in Nairobi in 2020. He trusted it before the Court of Appeal in 2023.

    He trusted it before Justice Mongare’s bench on March 9, 2026, the day she dismissed his case and the day the EACC arrested the man who allegedly told investigators he was collecting money for her. Whatever the process has been doing with that trust, it has not been using it to produce justice.

  • The IRGC’s Man in Juba: How Iran’s Shadow Oil Network Pillaged South Sudan’s Barrels

    The IRGC’s Man in Juba: How Iran’s Shadow Oil Network Pillaged South Sudan’s Barrels

    When security forces in Juba swept through the Ministry of Finance and the state oil company in a dramatic wave of arrests in late February, the government of President Salva Kiir framed the crackdown as a routine investigation into what a spokesman called “financial malpractices.”

    The euphemism barely scratches the surface.

    What investigators have since begun to piece together is something far more alarming: for the better part of three years, a network of shell companies and complicit officials routed South Sudan’s sovereign oil revenues into private bank accounts stretching from Nairobi to Dubai, with at least one channel flowing directly into the coffers of Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.

    The story that emerges from court filings in Washington, intelligence cooperation between Nairobi and Juba, and a cascade of arrests reaching the highest levels of the South Sudanese state is, at its core, a story of a country being systematically looted through its own oil tap while nearly two-thirds of its twelve million citizens teeter on the edge of famine.

    “The hyena was in charge of the goats. There was no one left to count.”

    The Shamkhani Connection

    On March 6, 2026, the United States Department of Justice filed two civil forfeiture complaints in the District of Columbia against more than $15.3 million in funds linked to an illicit Iranian oil distribution network.

    At the centre of those complaints was Mohammad Hossein Shamkhani, son of Ali Shamkhani, who had served as secretary of Iran’s Defence Council and for a decade as chief of the Supreme National Security Council, the body that coordinates the country’s most sensitive intelligence and military decisions.

    Both father and son were killed in the American-Israeli strikes that began on February 28.

    The younger Shamkhani, according to the complaint filed under case number 1:26-cv-00802, had acquired and quietly operated two Singapore-registered companies: Wellbred Capital Pte Ltd and its subsidiary Wellbred Trading DMCC, registered in Dubai.

    The companies were maintained as a clean-faced brand, their nominal leadership serving as a front for what US prosecutors describe as the Shamkhani Network, a sprawling apparatus of vessels, trading firms and shipping companies designed to move sanctioned Iranian crude onto world markets in violation of the International Emergency Economic Powers Act.

    Investigators allege that Shamkhani maintained internal organisational charts that showed Wellbred’s precise position within that network, documents that prosecutors obtained and cited in both complaints.

    What those complaints did not fully spell out, but what well-placed security sources and investigators with knowledge of proceedings in multiple jurisdictions now confirm, is the specific geography of Wellbred’s oil supply.

    Wellbred was not only trading Iranian barrels. It had, through contacts cultivated at the highest levels of South Sudan’s Ministry of Petroleum and the state company Nile Petroleum Corporation, secured preferential allocations of South Sudanese crude at prices investigators say were set substantially below market value.

    In a country where oil accounts for more than ninety per cent of government revenue, every barrel sold below market price is a dollar taken directly from a population that cannot afford to lose it.

    KEY FIGURES

     Benjamin Bol Mel  |  Former Vice President, arrested November 12, 2025

     Bak Barnaba Chol  |  Former Finance Minister, arrested February 28, 2026 at Uganda border

     Deng Lual Wol  |  Former Petroleum Undersecretary, detained February 2026

     Ayuel Ngor Kacgor  |  Former Nilepet Director General, believed to have fled to Netherlands

     Maj. Gen. Manasseh Machar Bol  |  Former Petroleum Ministry security director, detained

     Mohammad Hossein Shamkhani  |  Wellbred operator, killed in US-Israeli strikes, Feb. 28

    The Architecture of the Scheme

    South Sudan exports approximately 150,000 barrels of oil per day, most of it Nile Blend or Dar Blend crude shipped through a pipeline running north through Sudan to the terminal at Port Sudan. The Ministry of Petroleum controls cargo allocation, deciding which trading companies receive the right to lift barrels at the Bashayer terminal.

    Those allocation decisions, on paper bureaucratic and technical, are in practice among the most lucrative exercises of state power in the country. A single cargo of South Sudanese crude, at pre-conflict prices, was worth tens of millions of dollars.

    A two-year investigation by the United Nations Commission on Human Rights in South Sudan, whose findings were published in September 2025 in a report titled “Plundering a Nation,” found that political elites had engaged in the systematic looting of national wealth.

    The commission documented that $1.7 billion was channelled through the “Oil for Roads” programme between 2021 and 2024 to companies linked to then-Vice President Benjamin Bol Mel for road construction contracts that were never fulfilled.

    In total, the UN estimated that $2.2 billion was siphoned off-budget during that period, while over ninety per cent of the promised roads remained unbuilt.

    Bol Mel, already under US sanctions since 2017 and again in 2025, was dismissed by President Kiir on November 12 last year, stripped of his rank, demoted from general to private and placed under house arrest at his residence in the Jebel neighbourhood of Juba.

    Security forces seized documents, laptops and an undisclosed sum of cash. His lawyers filed a petition in March noting that after 120 days of incommunicado detention, their client had not been formally charged and that his health was deteriorating. The government has offered no public explanation for the arrest.

    The men who carried out the mechanics of the scheme operated beneath Bol Mel. Eng. Deng Lual Wol, the Petroleum Ministry’s undersecretary, signed the documents.

    Two letters he dispatched in October 2025, one to ONGC Nile Ganga B.V. seeking an advance of one billion dollars against future crude entitlements, another to CNPC requesting one and a half billion dollars against production held under the Greater Nile Petroleum Operating Company, effectively mortgaged the majority of South Sudan’s core oil output through opaque bilateral arrangements.

    Both letters promised repayment through oil shipments, with unnamed nominated lifters to take the volumes.

    Sources inside the government told this newspaper that the letters were prepared on behalf of Bol Mel, with the intent to divert the requested funds for personal use. Deng Lual Wol was detained in late February after presenting himself for questioning at the National Security Service headquarters.

    Ayuel Ngor Kacgor, appointed Managing Director of Nilepet in October 2024, is alleged to have served as the operational hub within the state company.

    Whistleblower testimony collected before his dismissal describes a Nilepet in free fall: salaries unpaid since April 2025, medical insurance suspended, workers dying of treatable illnesses, children withdrawn from school, food rations halted. Multiple employees described an absentee chief executive who would arrive for an hour and disappear. Kacgor is believed to have fled to the Netherlands, of which he also holds nationality, prior to the February crackdown.

    Kenyan security cooperation has reportedly been essential in identifying assets held in his name: a mansion in Nairobi’s exclusive Karen suburb, registered in the name of his wife, valued at approximately two million dollars.

    Investigators say the true magnitude of the Kenya and Uganda banking trail dwarfs anything previously reported in relation to the UAE or Turkey.

    The Nairobi Trail

    In the months following the Bol Mel arrest, intelligence services in Kenya moved quietly to assist their South Sudanese counterparts. The cooperation produced results that have since shocked even experienced investigators.

    Bank assets worth several tens of millions of dollars have been identified in Kenya and Uganda as belonging to Deng Lual Wol and Ayuel Ngor Kacgor.

    The discovery upended a central assumption embedded in most prior investigations: that the primary offshore repositories for looted South Sudanese oil money were in Dubai or Istanbul. The real repositories, it turns out, were closer to home.

    The pattern is not without precedent in the region. As far back as 2021, UN investigators documented how South Sudanese officials had channelled payments through Nairobi accounts held at Equity Bank, noting with forensic precision the deposits and cash withdrawals made at the Lavington branch.

    The Sentry, a Washington-based investigative organisation, had separately called on Kenyan and Ugandan authorities to investigate trade-based money laundering flows from South Sudan as early as 2023. Those calls went largely unheeded. The February crackdown may have finally changed the calculus.

    Judicial cooperation between Juba, Nairobi and Kampala will now determine whether these assets can be repatriated to the Central Bank of South Sudan, where they should, according to government regulations, have been deposited in the first place.

    Investigators familiar with the proceedings acknowledge that the process is likely to be protracted, contested and complicated by the dual nationality of at least one suspect.

    The Finance Minister Who Kept the Wrong Friends

    Against this backdrop, the brief three-month tenure of Bak Barnaba Chol as Finance Minister is particularly instructive.

    Appointed in late November 2025 in the immediate aftermath of the Bol Mel scandal to replace Athian Diing Athian, Chol was, by nearly universal assessment among political observers and private sector actors in Juba, a capable and professionally grounded administrator.

    He moved quickly to sever the ministry’s relationships with the cluster of outsider trading firms that investigators had already identified as problematic: Wellbred, Cathay Petroleum International, and Euroamerican Energy were cut off despite what sources describe as intensive lobbying by each company.

    What Chol did not do was cut ties with BGN. The Dubai-based firm, whose controlling shareholder Ruya Bayegan has been linked to Turkish intelligence networks close to President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, had operated at the margins of South Sudan’s oil allocation system for years and had cultivated relationships with precisely the officials now at the centre of the corruption investigation.

    Rather than declare BGN unwelcome, Chol moved closer to the company, awarding new cargo allocations under conditions that multiple sources describe as improbably favourable.

    Days before his removal from the ministry on February 23, Chol was in Doha, Qatar, for a working meeting with senior BGN officials. Investigators have since established that he had committed to allocating one final cargo to BGN in March under terms that, in retrospect, appear grotesque: BGN holds an option to purchase the cargo at February’s price.

    The conflict in Iran, which erupted on February 28, pushed Brent crude from below sixty-three dollars a barrel in February to a historic intraday high of $119.50 on March 9.

    The spread between the price BGN locked in and the market price at which the cargo will actually be lifted represents, by the calculations of investigators who have reviewed the terms, a loss to the South Sudanese state budget of between ten million and twenty million dollars on a single shipment.

    Whether that loss is realised will depend on whether the new finance minister, Salvatore Garang Mabiordit, honours the commitment or repudiates it. The government has not confirmed whether the BGN cargo arrangement remains in force. BGN did not respond to requests for comment.

    Chol himself did not reach Uganda. Security forces intercepted him at approximately eight in the evening on February 28 near the Elegu-Nimule border crossing, travelling on a commercial motorcycle taxi.

    He was carrying $30,000 in US dollars and 27 million South Sudanese pounds concealed in a travel bag. Video footage that circulated on social media showed the former minister with apparent bloodstains on his clothing following the pursuit. He has been held since without formal charge.

    His arrest came on the same day as the American-Israeli strikes on Tehran that killed, among many others, the man whose company had been buying South Sudan’s oil.

    The timing is not merely coincidental. It is structurally revealing. What the Shamkhani Network’s presence in South Sudan’s oil allocation system illuminates is the specific economics of sanctioned-country oil trading.

    An actor that cannot access legitimate financial markets, that must move funds through webs of front companies and correspondent bank accounts, and that faces a constant threat of exposure and seizure, has a powerful incentive to secure barrels at the deepest possible discount.

    The gap between the price paid and the market price is not merely profit. It is the cost of doing business in the shadow economy, the premium extracted in exchange for absorbing legal and reputational risk that a conventional trader would not bear.

    For the South Sudanese officials allocating those barrels, that same premium was the mechanism of personal enrichment.

    A cargo sold to Wellbred at twenty or thirty dollars below market did not generate a loss that landed visibly in government accounts. It generated a private transfer, untraceable in the formal ledger, from the public treasury to the private pockets of those who controlled the allocation.

    The UN estimates that $2.2 billion was diverted through off-budget schemes in a three-year window. South Sudan’s total population is twelve million people. More than nine million of them require humanitarian assistance.

    The arithmetic of what has been stolen, set against the arithmetic of need, is not one that the government of President Kiir has shown any inclination to dwell on in public.

    What is clear is that the current crackdown, whatever its political motivations, has exposed the machinery of the scheme in a degree of detail not previously available to investigators.

    The US Justice Department has its forfeiture complaints. Kenya has its bank records.

    The Netherlands has, if it chooses to act, a fugitive with European nationality and alleged stolen assets scattered across East Africa.

    The question now is whether the architecture of accountability is adequate to the scale of what has been stolen, or whether this, like so many previous episodes in South Sudan’s short and violent history, ends not in justice but in the renegotiation of impunity.