Kenya’s Deadly Protests: Why Are Police Using Live Bullets on Civilians?
Nairobi, 22 June 2026
A 17-year-old boy’s skull was split open by police during protests, his mother found him soaked in blood. Kenya’s police stand accused of turning demonstrations into war zones, with live ammunition and tear gas fired at unarmed citizens. Rights groups demand an end to the violence as June 25 commemorations loom—will the state listen, or will more lives be lost?
A Teenager’s Death and the Cycle of Police Violence
On 17 June 2026, Sylvester Muigai Ndung’u, a 17-year-old boy, was killed during protests in Laikipia, Kenya. His mother, Lucy Kagure, found him with half his skull split open, his clothes soaked in blood [1]. The police claim he was struck by a tear gas canister, not live ammunition, and initially registered him as an ‘unidentified male’ at the mortuary [1]. Sylvester was not a protester; he was picking up his school uniform when he was caught in the crossfire [1]. His death is not an isolated incident but part of a pattern of police violence that has escalated during recent demonstrations, particularly those opposing US-sponsored quarantine facilities [1].
Constitutional Rights vs. Police Brutality
Kenya’s Constitution, under Article 37, guarantees the right to peaceful assembly, demonstration, picketing, and petitioning public authorities [1][3]. Yet, police have repeatedly turned protests into ‘war zones,’ deploying live ammunition and tear gas against unarmed civilians [1]. Human rights organisations and local leaders have condemned these tactics, arguing that they violate both domestic law and international human rights standards [1]. The pattern of impunity is stark: officers face no consequences for excessive force, even when it results in deaths like Sylvester’s [1]. The article in The Nation describes this as a systemic issue where police act as ‘prosecutors, judges, and executioners,’ bypassing due process entirely [1].
The Broader Context: Protests and State Response
The protests in Kenya are not occurring in a vacuum. They are part of a broader movement that gained momentum on 25 June 2025, when demonstrations against government policies led to widespread police brutality, including unlawful killings [2]. The state’s response to these protests has been twofold: recognition and repression. On 21 June 2026, the Kenyan government announced compensation schemes for victims of protest-related violence, acknowledging the harm caused [3]. However, in the same breath, the President and Minister for Security warned of ‘goons’ disrupting upcoming commemorations for the 25 June 2025 protests, framing demonstrators as threats rather than citizens exercising their rights [3]. This duality reflects the state’s struggle to control the narrative around protest movements, which have disrupted Kenya’s traditional political structures [3].
June 25: A Date of Contested Memory
June 25 holds deep significance in Kenya’s political history. For older generations, it is associated with the Saba Saba movement, which fought for multiparty democracy in the 1990s [3]. For younger Kenyans, however, June 25 symbolises something different: the discovery of their power as citizens and the vulnerability that comes with it [3]. The 2025 protests marked a turning point, as citizens mobilised without ethnic affiliation, charismatic leaders, or political parties, carrying only Kenyan flags and mobile phones [3]. This decentralised movement forced a major policy reversal, acting outside the elite-negotiated power structures that have long dominated Kenyan politics [3]. The state’s attempt to curate this history—through commissions, reports, and compensation schemes—is inherently political, as memory itself becomes a battleground [3].
Refugees in the Crossfire: Security Risks in Turkana
The escalating violence in Nairobi and other urban centres poses significant risks for refugees in Kakuma and Kalobeyei camps, located in Turkana County. While these camps are geographically distant from the epicentre of protests, the ripple effects are tangible. Refugees and host communities share supply routes, healthcare facilities, and security infrastructure, making them vulnerable to disruptions caused by civil unrest [1]. Humanitarian organisations have advised refugees to stay informed about security developments, as protests may affect travel or the delivery of essential supplies [1]. The situation is particularly precarious for those who rely on cross-border movement, as tensions in Kenya could spill over into neighbouring countries or disrupt aid operations [GPT].
Global Parallels: When Protests Turn Deadly
Kenya’s use of live ammunition against protesters is not unique. In the United States, a recent incident on 20 June 2026 highlighted the dangers of firearms in civilian spaces, albeit in a different context. A young man attempted to purchase a gun at a sporting goods store, then suddenly pointed it at employees, shouting, ‘Everyone down!’ [4]. While no one was harmed, the incident underscored how quickly firearms can escalate situations, even in regulated environments [4]. The store’s management cancelled the sale and ejected the individual, leaving a stark lesson: ‘Jokes about guns can have serious consequences’ [4]. This incident, though unrelated to protests, serves as a reminder of the lethal potential of firearms—whether in the hands of civilians or law enforcement. In Kenya, where police routinely use live bullets, the stakes are even higher [1].
What Happens Next? Commemorations and Crackdowns
As Kenya approaches the 25 June 2026 commemorations, the stage is set for further confrontation. Activists are planning nationwide demonstrations to honour victims of police violence, while the state has issued warnings about ‘disruptive elements’ [5]. The government’s compensation schemes for victims of past protests may be an attempt to placate public anger, but they do little to address the root causes of police brutality [3]. Rights groups continue to document incidents of excessive force, and the demand for accountability grows louder [1]. The question remains: will the state listen, or will the cycle of violence continue? For refugees, host communities, and ordinary Kenyans, the answer could mean the difference between safety and further bloodshed [1][3].