Dark Christmas for Nakuru mothers whose sons died in GenZ protests

“We were robbed and have never gotten justice for the passing of our sons.”

These are the words echoed by the mothers of the young men who died by the bullet, during the nationwide Gen-Z protest early this year in a bid to overturn the Finance Bill.

“We’ve never received any help from the government after burying my son. We were left to bear the pain and the aftermath of his absence alone. Life has changed, and it’s only gotten worse since we lost him,” says Rose Nyaguthie, her voice filled with sorrow.

She says life has changed, and it’s only gotten worse since they lost Michael Kihuga- her firstborn son.

“This holiday is a little too grim for me and my family. Michael always brought the light. He brought people together and made us share in the Christmas spirit. We are at a loss,” says Nyaguthie.

She says that Michael held the family together, provided for them, and even settled disputes among them. “That was the kind of man I was raising. Other than being a very jovial person.”

She randomly recalls how he left barely a month after his father had passed on.

Rose also recounts how human rights groups reached out to her, promising that the case would be taken to court, but nothing has come of it.

“I was told to wait, but there has been no follow-up,” she says.

Despite the pain, Nyaguthie has tried to continue with her life. 

“I returned to my work as a hotelier, but it’s never the same. All I ask is help for myself and others who lost their children in the protest. We can’t fight against the government, and there’s nothing we can do,” she says with resignation.  

“All I want is justice for Michael and for the other parents who lost their lives in the fight for a better Kenya. But we have been left to grieve in silence, hoping that someday, someone will listen to our pain.”

Maria Khayange, the mother of Austin Onyisa, too expresses her frustration and helplessness in the wake of her son’s tragic loss.

“Since that incident, the government has not helped me in any way. No one has given me any information or support. Everyone else has remained silent, and now I am left alone. I don’t even know where to start or where to end,” she says.

Maria reflects on the time before her son’s death when things seemed easier.

“At the start of the year, everything was fine. I was taking care of my children and didn’t see any major problems. Austin was also trying his best in school. But now, life has become incredibly difficult. I’ve lost my job, and the work I was doing was given to someone else. I have no way to support myself or my family,” she says.

Life has become overwhelming for Maria since Austin’s demise, as she has become the sole caregiver of her second-born son, who according to the doctor has mental autism.

“I can't go to work because of my other son. He can’t speak or stay in one place, so I have to stay with him all the time. It’s hard for me to leave him alone because he’s vulnerable. He’s one person who when he is not in sight, could go to the road and get hit by a car when it passes by. I have to be there to keep watch over him, and so I just stay with him at home,” she adds.

Maria says she’s had to give up looking for work, which she lost after catering to Austin’s demise and now she notes how her life has changed drastically.

“Before, when Austin was around, I could go to work and know that he was being cared for. But now, without him, I feel drained. Even if I manage to go out, my energy quickly runs out because I’m constantly worried about my child’s well-being. It’s exhausting.”

She is also concerned about the lack of support from the human rights organizations that were once rallying for them to get justice.

“I keep calling the human rights organizations, but no one answers the phone. It just keeps ringing. They promised to follow up on the deaths of those involved in the protests, but up to now, nothing has been done,” Maria says with frustration.