JUSTICE FOR WHO?
Who are we? what are we? where did we come from? Who do we serve?
Let’s talk sexual violence, in particular rape and defilement, an evil act that shutters dream,
leaves scars and trauma. Welcome to Eastlands, Nairobi, famous for many reasons including
crime. I am writing from the scope of a man’s eyes, about a conversation society has boxed as a
women’s issue because women are most affected, and many of my peers assume it’s none of
our business because it doesn’t really affect us. I mean, unless it knocks on my door, then I have
no business caring and that is where we go wrong.
The Mulika campaign, which aims to expose rape and defilement cases and the systemic delays
and injustices in Kenya, it’s clear that rape and defilement affects everyone, children, mothers,
fathers, grandparents, even toddlers. But can you afford justice? It’s a matter of how much do
you have? Who do you know that can pull the strings for you?
From the many conversations with the young people, victims/survivors look down on
themselves, alone in their shadows, wondering where they belong, who to run to, and what
next?
Some of our parents subject us to rape and defilement for their own survival benefits. Teachers
take advantage of our teenage vulnerability. The religious leaders take advantage of the little
trust and faith we have. The health systems are not equipped to offer quality, rights-based, and
comprehensive services. The police are uneducated and unreliable, and the court systems, not
sure even where to begin with describing it.
“Justice”, a seven-letter word, but so hard to find. Maybe in places like Runda, Muthaiga, and
Karen, where money gets you actual action that is given freely by the Constitution of Kenya, but
not in the ghetto.
