Respect the Law, Respect Kenya: How Impunity from the Top Undermines Our Future—and Why Maraga and Omtatah May Be Our Best Hope
Kenya today teeters on the edge of two realities: on one side, rising public frustration and deepening mistrust in institutions; on the other, emerging leaders who insist our only hope lies in reviving true respect for law. The problem is impunity—not only among rogue thugs or petty officials, but at the highest levels of government. When that happens, every Kenyan—from Nairobi matatu drivers to farmers in Turkana—feels the sting. This article explores precisely how widespread disregard for court orders and constitutional mandates has corroded our systems, eroded public faith, distorted justice, and threatens our sovereignty. Then it considers why two figures—former Chief Justice David Maraga and Senator Okiya Omtatah—stand out as rare guardians of the law we should trust and support come 2027.
Impunity at the Top and Its Ripple Effects
Impunity is most dangerous when those entrusted with upholding the law ignore it themselves. In Kenya today, we've witnessed plain defiance of whatever the courts rule. Take the case of police IG Gilbert Masengeli—summoned six times for his role in protestor disappearances, he ignored every court directive until public pressure forced his compliance. This is not one rogue officer. It is a signal to every public servant that court summons are optional—even ludicrous—as long as you have the right connections or public position.
Such disregard doesn’t live in a vacuum. When people see leaders flout court orders, it breaks the backbone of trust. Citizens stop believing the law protects the vulnerable and realize those in power obey only when it suits them. This cynicism destroys civic pride and makes corruption seem inevitable. A farmer loses faith in judicial relief when the local magistrate doesn't enforce eviction orders. A business owner hesitates to invest when regulatory licenses can be illegal fast-tracked via bribe. A student grows up thinking civil rights are privileges, not constitutional guarantees. In short, impunity at the top infects every level of society.
Erosion of Judicial Authority
A nation functions when its laws, and its guardians of those laws, are seen as impartial arbiters—not tools of selective enforcement. But in Kenya, repeated disregard for court orders by top executive and security officials has hollowed out the judiciary’s authority. When courts are treated as inconvenient public relations obstacles, their pronouncements lose power. Citizens feel disempowered, abandoned by institutions that should protect them. The Constitution, our most sacred document, becomes an artifact—minted at retirement ceremonies, not applied in daily governance.
Chief Justice Maraga himself warned that democracy is under threat when we treat laws as mere suggestions. “Compliance with court orders is not an option… it is a crucial matter of constitutional and civic obligation,” he observed—urging courts to enforce sanctions where necessary.
This institutional breakdown isn’t theoretical—it has real effects. When government entities ignore orders, whether over Miguna Miguna’s deportation or illegal budget provisions, chaos follows. Police behavior steps outside legal bounds. Surveillance becomes unaccountable. Courts take months, even years, to enforce rulings. Entrepreneurship collapses. The entire state becomes ungovernable—not because laws are bad, but because they're not followed.
Economic Collapse and Investment Flight
Rule of law is the twin of investor confidence. When contracts and licenses can be arbitrarily reversed, and regulations enforced selectively, businesses avoid the market. Investors whisper "unstable regime." Corruption increases because enforcement is delayed until bribes arrive. When public officials steal public funds—knowing they won’t face consequences—the debt grows. Today, Kenya dedicates over 80% of revenue to debt repayment—a burden driven by misuse of public resources and poor procurement, proven by civil society litigators like Senator Omtatah . Public infrastructure fails, education falters, health systems weaken—all because money vanishes, and no one is held accountable. The vicious cycle: impunity leads to mismanagement, that leads to debt, that precipitates austerity, which produces despair—and impunity. Breaking it starts with someone who restores faith in systems.
The Moral Crisis of Violated Rights
Beyond finances and institutions lies our people. Impunity tramples on their rights. Protestors shot with impunity. Journalists threatened. Activists harassed. Social media influencers targeted for expressing dissent. When the executive disregards court protections for assembly, privacy, or speech, the message trickles down: “You're unsafe, and no one cares if you disappear.” Families of victims—like those of Albert Ojwang—seek justice and receive only official denials. This arms the state with fear, forcing citizens into silence or exile. Our people—but especially youth—are learning that dissent has a physical price: a bash, a court case, a bullet. If we can't provide safe dissent, democracy dies.
Leadership That Heals: Why Maraga and Omtatah Matter
In this environment, Kenya needs principled guardians who refuse to bypass constitutional boundaries. Two men stand out.
David Maraga, former Chief Justice, made history by nullifying a presidential election in 2017—a landmark ruling that demonstrated that no person is above the Constitution. When Parliament neglected its gender equality mandate in 2020, Maraga issued a rare presidential advisory to dissolve the house—again upholding constitutional supremacy over political convenience. In public dialogue, he warned that corruption and legal defiance are the root of national decay—and that “when everybody obeys the law, everything falls into place”.
Now running for president in 2027, Maraga insists that his administration will lead by example: obey the law, punish violations, and reset institutions. “When the president observes the rule of law, it sends a strong message… nobody can disregard the law if the president obeys it”. He pledges to appoint a vetted technocratic cabinet accountable to Parliament; to prosecute corruption vigorously; and to end police brutality.
Then there’s Senator Okiya Omtatah, a fierce constitutional defender in Parliament and the courts. He challenged the National Assembly’s bypassing of Senate oversight in 2024, highlighting violations of Article 249 on budgetary approvals. He persists in his campaign for an independent Treasury—decoupled from political misuse of public coffers . Facing intimidation, he remains defiant, calling for total constitutional implementation and true checks-and-balances He led a petition on odious debt—the Ksh13.1 trillion borrowed illegally—on behalf of law-abiding citizens.
Unlike politicians who adapt to power, Omtatah has consistently used legal tools to challenge state capture. He is not performing governance—he’s pushing for systemic architecture that respects public trust.
Why Kenya Should Look to Maraga or Omtatah
When a society is tainted by corrupted norms, tokenism doesn’t suffice. Kenya needs leaders who will model lawful conduct—and whose conduct sends ripples through the system.
Maraga brings judicial discipline, moral clarity, and a reputation unsullied by politics. His track record shows that constitutionalism is not theater—it’s enforceable rule. By centering on evidence-driven hiring, meritocratic policy, and judicial independence, he aims for a transformation that starts at the top.
Omtatah represents legislative courage. He doesn't have a loud media brand—but he has legal victories that challenge power structures. He shows citizens and MPs that rights are not granted—they are assert. He embodies the idea that Parliament is not a rubber-stamp machine.
Together, they represent two arms of governance—judicial and legislative—united around principle. Their candidacies should not be distractions, but banners: for a Kenya where public office is not a playground, but a platform of service.
A Nation at a Crossroads
As 2027 approaches, the question Kenya must ask is not just who can give us security or economy, but who can restore integrity. If the judge and the senator bypass party constraints to defend the Constitution, they invite a new political map—one where voters choose virtue, not violence; accountability, not arrogance.
Continuing down the current path guarantees everything we love about Kenya—its energy, its citizens, its hope—will be extinguished. But embracing constitutional leadership could spark renewal: a revived judiciary, an honest Parliament, an inclusive Presidency.
What Every Kenyan Can Do Now
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Demand consequences for defiance. Support calls to enforce court contempt sanctions, even at the highest levels.
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Support judicial independence. Follow Supreme Court rulings, criticize interference, and back legal funding.
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Follow Omtatah’s petitions. Learn from his constitutional challenges—petition, protest, participate.
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Vet your future leaders. In 2027, ask them: Will you obey court orders, or bypass them? Will you abide by the Constitution, or override it?
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Share and spread awareness. Talk with your family, use social media to celebrate constitutional victories.
In Closing
Kenya’s future depends not on promises, but on principles. The rule of law is fragile, and once broken, hard to rebuild. But individuals like Maraga and Omtatah show it’s not dead. It’s alive in courtrooms and assemblies, in petitions and rulings. They remind us that constitutionalism is not a historical artifact—it is today's battlefield.
For Kenya to survive and thrive, the next president must embody that principle. Not just adhere to law, but become law. Not just speak of justice, but live it every day. Kenyan voters face a decision—politics as usual, or constitutional renewal.
The country deserves more than lip service. It deserves leaders who respect the law, and remake Kenya in its own image.
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