NAIROBI, Kenya - The abduction of Nairobi lawyer Abshir Ahmedsadak Abdi and Tanzanian human rights activist Twaha Salim Mwaipaya has once again exposed a disturbing reality in Kenya, people can be seized by heavily armed, masked individuals and disappear without their families knowing where they are or whether they are alive.
What makes these incidents particularly alarming is the striking similarity in how they are carried out. The suspects are often men wearing balaclavas, dressed in tactical clothing, carrying heavy firearms and travelling in unmarked vehicles. They operate with an apparent confidence that raises serious questions about their identity, their authority and whether they have connections within the security establishment.
Abshir's disappearance along Muchai Road in Nairobi was captured by CCTV cameras. The footage reportedly shows armed men pursuing him, forcing him to his knees and bundling him into a vehicle before driving away. His vehicle was later found abandoned.
In Mwaipaya's case, the Tanzanian activist, who had sought refuge in Kenya after fleeing persecution in his home country, was reportedly intercepted by masked men while travelling in a taxi in Kamulu, Machakos County. His companion escaped, but Mwaipaya was taken away.
These are not isolated incidents. Other reported cases this year have mirrored a similar pattern, with individuals reportedly intercepted by armed men, forced into vehicles and taken to undisclosed locations. The circumstances have left families, lawyers and human rights organisations struggling to establish the whereabouts of their loved ones.
The question is no longer simply who is missing, but who is taking these people?
The Directorate of Criminal Investigations has denied involvement in Abshir's disappearance. DCI Director Mohamed Amin said investigators had been appointed to establish what happened, maintaining that police officers were not responsible.
In Mwaipaya's case, Inspector General of Police Douglas Kanja also denied that the activist was in police custody or had been abducted by his officers.
But these denials raise an even bigger question. If the police did not take them, who did? Who are the heavily armed individuals captured on CCTV? Where did they take their victims, and why have they not been identified?
The State cannot simply deny responsibility and expect families and the public to accept those assurances without credible investigations and evidence.
The courts have also intervened. In Mwaipaya's case, the High Court issued habeas corpus orders requiring authorities to produce him before the court, dead or alive, and account for his whereabouts. Similar orders were issued in Abshir's case, directing security agencies to produce him and explain the circumstances surrounding his disappearance.
Habeas corpus is a fundamental constitutional safeguard against unlawful detention. It empowers courts to demand that authorities produce a person whose liberty is in question and explain the legal basis for their detention.
But what happens when the very institutions expected to enforce the law cannot account for a missing person? Court orders cannot become pieces of paper that security agencies can ignore. The Judiciary must ensure its orders are respected, while the relevant institutions must be held accountable for non-compliance.
Another institution facing serious questions is the Anti-Abduction Unit established by the police following public outrage over disappearances in 2025. Its mandate includes investigating abductions, identifying perpetrators and helping recover victims.
What progress has it made? Where is the unit when lawyers, activists and ordinary citizens continue to disappear? Is it independently investigating these cases, including allegations involving security officers, or are victims and their families being left to fend for themselves?
According to data by the Missing Voices Coalition, 22 people have been forcible disappeared this year as of October 2026.
Perhaps the most troubling question is what these developments mean for Kenya's democracy as the country approaches the 2027 General Election.
The experiences of the 2024 and 2025 protests demonstrated the willingness of young Kenyans to challenge government decisions and demand accountability. The subsequent reports of abductions and intimidation have created an atmosphere of fear among activists, journalists, lawyers and ordinary citizens.
It is increasingly difficult to ignore the possibility that enforced disappearances are becoming a tool for intimidating dissent and discouraging civic participation. While each case must be independently investigated and responsibility established through evidence, the pattern demands urgent scrutiny.
Under Article 29 of the Constitution, every person has the right to freedom and security, including protection against arbitrary detention, violence and torture. No security agency is above these protections.
Kenya cannot claim to uphold the rule of law while people are taken away by armed men, families are denied answers and court orders go unimplemented.
Ultimately, the test of a democratic government is not how it treats those who agree with it, but how it protects those who question it. As the country heads towards another election, Kenyans must not allow enforced disappearances to become normalised as an instrument of policing, political control or intimidation.
If the police did not abduct Abshir and Mwaipaya, then who did? And if the State cannot answer that question, what does that say about the safety of every Kenyan?
The writer, Shukri Wachu, is a Journalist, Human Rights Defender and the National Coordinator of the Missing Voices Coalition. This article was first published on the People Daily Newspaper.
