Latest news with #UhuruKenyatta
Yahoo
09-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Is Kenya's president safe in a crowd? Security expert scans VIP protection checklist
Protecting any president requires multiple layers of intelligence, physical security and rapid response security protocols. Exact operational details are classified, but there are global best practices in VIP protection. The issue of presidential protection in Kenya has become particularly relevant following an incident in early May 2025 when someone in a crowd threw a shoe at President William Ruto during a public event, hitting his hand. I have studied policing and security policies in Kenya for over 15 years, interacting closely with the country's security protocols. In my view this incident exposed several critical security lapses around the elite officers tasked with protecting the president. The security of the president is a critical issue in Kenya. The country is exposed to terror groups like the Somalia-based Al-Shabaab and other criminal networks in the region. In 2021, a businessman embedded himself into the presidential motorcade and drove into then president Uhuru Kenyatta's official residence. In 2017, an unidentified man who was said to have illegally accessed the highly protected state house grounds was shot dead by presidential guards. There are multiple layers to Kenya's protection protocols. They include National Intelligence Service officers, the Kenya Defence Force, Presidential Escort Police officers drawn from the highly trained General Service Unit, bomb disposal experts and regular police officers. Their deployment depends on the nature of the presidential engagement. While the shoe incident may be passed off as simply embarrassing, it should serve as a wake-up call to tighten security protocols around the president without necessarily compromising his public engagement with citizens. Prior to any presidential visit across the country, security teams conduct a thorough reconnaissance of the destination. This includes coordinating with local policing agencies, clearing airspace, mapping secure transport routes and identifying nearby medical facilities in case of emergencies. Presidential motorcade routes are pre-planned and a dry run is made. This often includes mapping alternative routes to avoid predictability should there be assailants along a presidential route. It is common to see some roads temporarily closed and security officers conducting sweeps for any threats or explosives. In areas deemed high risk, counter security sniper teams are covertly deployed in strategic areas. Cases of attacks on presidential motorcades are rare in Kenya. However, in 2002 during presidential campaigns, angry opposition supporters stoned then president Daniel Moi's motorcade. In November 2021, an angry mob hurled rocks at then deputy president Ruto's motorcade. The National Intelligence Service and Presidential Escort Unit covertly scout locations in advance, assessing potential security vulnerabilities. Crowd sizes, and entry and exit points for the head of state are mapped out in advance. In cases where meetings are held in town halls or huge tents, attendees are screened using metal detectors and/or physical searches. Uniformed and plainclothes security officers embed themselves in the crowd to monitor any threats. The president and any dignitaries accompanying him have at least three layers of security. The inner ring consists of close protection officers who are always within an arm's length of the president to physically thwart any threats. The middle ring has armed security guards who watch for, among others, sudden movements and abnormal behaviour within the crowd. The outer ring consists of regular police and paramilitary units from the General Service Unit who secure the outside perimeter. The presidential motorcade is a coordinated convoy of heavily armoured vehicles. It includes lead and chase cars, communication units and emergency response teams. Traffic is managed by local traffic police officers to ensure unobstructed movement. Routes are kept confidential until necessary. The president's security may opt to use a decoy vehicle if there is a security threat, to confuse and derail potential risk sources. In all these cases, there is a contingent of specialised General Service Unit officers, called the Recce unit, that always accompanies the president. Kenya's presidential security precautions follow standard VIP security protection like those for heads of state across the world. However, in some neighbouring countries, for instance, presidents move in heavily armed military convoys. This has not been seen in Kenya. If a potential threat is detected, the president is immediately shielded and whisked away to a secure vehicle or evacuated by air in high-risk events. In such cases, the Kenya Defence Forces secures the president. Despite stringent security measures, incidents can occur. For instance, in March 2025, a British tourist was fatally hit by a vehicle in Ruto's motorcade. This prompted investigations and reviews on motorcade safety protocols. Such events highlight the challenges of balancing presidential security with public safety, especially in densely populated urban areas. The shoe-throwing incident targeting Ruto highlighted five major failures in presidential protection protocols. First, crowd screening and access control failures. The alleged assailant was very close to the president, suggesting an inadequate distance between the crowds and the president. The inner ring of security also failed to spot the perpetrator raising a shoe in the air to use as a projectile. This indicates weak front-row eye sweeps and scans by the president's security. Second, there was an apparent delay in security response. The elite officers around the president should have subdued the alleged attacker within seconds. It could mean most had their eyes on the president or cameras, as opposed to scanning the crowds for any sudden movements. Third, security allowed the president to stand too close to a crowd that hadn't been screened. Best practices require a no-go zone of three to five metres for individuals who have not been scanned or screened. Fourth, there was an apparent gap in intelligence and threat assessment. Aggressive or agitated people next to the president should draw the attention of security officers. Plainclothes security officers are usually deployed to monitor crowd behaviour. It isn't enough to rely on uniformed officers. Undercover agents are critical for flagging pre-attack signals, such as nervousness or repeated adjustments of positions. Fifth, there was no clear evacuation plan for the president. After the incident, the president continued speaking. In high-risk scenarios, protocols often demand instant relocation of the president to a secure vehicle or helicopter, where the military takes over and airlifts him to safety. Kenya's presidential security detail may be forced to: increase standoff distance between the president and crowds deploy more plainclothes officers to blend in and monitor crowds around the president mandate stricter screening of those in close proximity to the president conduct more frequent security risks drills for rapid neutralisation of potential threats. The exact details of presidential security in Kenya are confidential. However, the overarching structure aims to provide comprehensive protection to the president while maintaining public safety and order during official engagements. No security protocol is 100% foolproof. But a balance needs to be struck between overly aggressive crowd control and accessibility. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Douglas Lucas Kivoi, The Kenya Institute for Public Policy Research and Analysis (KIPPRA) Read more: We set out to improve literacy among struggling readers in Kenya – what we learnt Europe is moving to reposition itself in Donald Trump's new global order Predictive policing AI is on the rise − making it accountable to the public could curb its harmful effects Douglas Lucas Kivoi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Al Jazeera
01-05-2025
- Politics
- Al Jazeera
Kenya's pact of silence with its military is breaking
When the Kenyan government blocked the public screening of a BBC documentary investigating the military's role in the killing of protesters, it was about more than censorship. It was about protecting a decades-old pact – a silent agreement between the military, the state, the media, and the public: the army stays out of overt politics, and in return, no one looks too closely at what it's doing. That pact is now under threat, and the backlash has been ferocious. Government-aligned MPs have accused the BBC of inciting instability, calling for the broadcaster to be banned from operating in Kenya. Social media campaigns have been launched under hashtags like #BBCforChaos, framing journalism as sabotage. But what is really being defended is not national security, it's the manicured silence that has kept Kenya's military above scrutiny. This decades-long silence has been carefully cultivated since independence. Two failed military coups, in 1971 and 1982, and the terrible records of military regimes across the continent, instilled a lasting fear of soldiers as political actors. To avoid future insurrections, successive governments kept the army well-watered and fed in their barracks and out of the headlines. In return, the public – and especially the media – looked away. No see, no coup. But behind the scenes, the Kenya Defence Forces (KDF) were growing in strength. Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, they expanded their capabilities, acquired new hardware, and cultivated a myth of discipline and professionalism. The invasion of Somalia in 2011 brought the KDF out of the shadows. Now centre stage, the military took up the banner of patriotic warriors fighting terrorism and instilling discipline into the famously corrupt civilian public service. In the following decade, the administration of President Uhuru Kenyatta appointed retired and serving military personnel, including the then-defence forces chief, to a variety of civilian governance roles. But as the military's power and visibility expanded, there was little expanded public oversight and scrutiny. This is despite the very public failures that came in the aftermath of the ill-advised invasion which shattered the myth of integrity and competence. The invasion itself, launched to great media fanfare, was soon bogged down. After a yearlong slog to the Somali port of Kismayo, Kenyan troops were almost immediately implicated in a smuggling racket, trafficking sugar and charcoal out in collusion with al-Shabab, the very enemy they were sent to fight. In 2016, at least 140 soldiers were killed in a single al-Shabab attack on the KDF base in El Adde – Kenya's deadliest battlefield loss. Back home, things weren't going much better. The invasion inspired a wave of terrorism. The KDF's bungled and criminal response to the 2013 attack on the Westgate mall in downtown Nairobi which killed 68 people, badly exposed it. Soldiers systematically robbed the mall while pretending to battle terrorists. Less than two years later, the military was back in the news, having again bungled the response to an attack on the Garissa University College, which left 147 people dead. Throughout all this, the military responded with silence and spin. There was no public inquiry. No reckoning. No accountability. Similarly, there were few calls for accountability when the KDF grabbed a chunk of Lenana Road, a major Nairobi thoroughfare, to expand its headquarters, or when its top brass were implicated in attempts to influence the 2022 presidential election. None of these incidents sparked serious media investigation or political debate about the military's role. Kenya's mainstream media have largely internalised the terms of the pact. Defence reporters rarely publish anything critical of the army. Many function more as conduits for military press statements than as independent journalists. The KDF, in effect, enjoys a veto over how it is portrayed. That's what makes the BBC documentary so dangerous – not because it poses a real threat to stability, but because it disrupts the performance of silence. It challenges the idea that the military is untouchable, and that truth about its conduct must be suppressed for the greater good. But a viable democracy cannot be built on fear. Kenya cannot thrive while shielding one of its most powerful institutions from public accountability. If journalists are vilified for telling the truth, and if media houses censor themselves to stay in favour with generals, then the line between civilian rule and military impunity is already dangerously thin. The real threat to national security is not the BBC. It is the refusal to confront the army's failures and abuses – and the willingness of so many to stay silent in the face of them. Kenya must break the pact. The military must be accountable not just to its commanders, but to the people. And journalism must be free to expose the truth, even when it makes the people with guns uncomfortable. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
Arab News
26-04-2025
- Business
- Arab News
Africa and the path to self-reliance
For decades after gaining independence, many African nations subsisted on a development model dependent on foreign aid and external support despite mixed results. Aid inflows might have helped build schools and clinics, but they also fostered a culture of dependence and complacency. Now, as donors increasingly pull back, this arrangement is crumbling amid turbulent global geopolitics, coupled with a new generation of African leaders who are questioning the old reliance on handouts. In 2015, Kenya's president at the time, Uhuru Kenyatta, warned that the future of the continent could no longer be left to the good graces of outside interests, with foreign aid considered an acceptable basis for prosperity and freedom. A decade later, his words ring more true than ever. In the past few years, several seismic shifts have rendered the status quo untenable. Now, global trade wars are escalating, not so long after the supply chain shocks of the COVID era, and coupled with the ripple effects from the war in Ukraine. In most cases, Africa ends up bearing a disproportionate brunt of disruptions elsewhere. Now, however, the world that enabled Africa's aid addiction is vanishing, forcing the continent to finally confront the hard business of self-reliance. The US, for a long time a major aid donor, has slashed or rerouted funding due to partisan politics and voter fatigue over perpetual development projects abroad. European aid budgets are under pressure, strained by shifting domestic priorities and the growing costs of crises brewing closer to home. Meanwhile, remittances from a sprawling diaspora, often a lifeline for African economies, remain fickle, booming in good times but drying up whenever global recession hits or inflation bites into migrants' incomes. The security environment has also changed dramatically. France, the former colonial guardian of the Sahel, for instance, has wound down its presence after years of fighting militants in Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso. The French, once welcomed by beleaguered governments, were shown the door by new juntas and ceaseless protests, resulting in the tricolor being lowered at bases across the Sahel, signaling the end of 'Pax Gallica' in Africa. Meanwhile, the future of the US military's Africa Command looks uncertain, with Washington preoccupied by great-power showdowns elsewhere. After all, Africa's conflicts and security vacuums rank low on the Pentagon's list of priorities, even though US special forces and drones remain active in the Horn of Africa and the Sahel. But for how long? If a more isolationist mood prevails in successive US administrations, Africa could experience an even greater strategic vacuum. That vacuum is already beckoning opportunists. In places such as Mali and the Central African Republic, gun-for-hire outfits have swept in to replace departing Western troops, trading security services for mining concessions and geopolitical leverage. Their encroachment is a sobering reminder that if Africa does not resolve its own security problems, someone else — possibly far less benevolent or benign — will. China, too, has shifted from being a mere investor to a strategic operator on the continent. Beijing remains Africa's biggest trading partner and a major builder of its infrastructure, but it has grown more hard-nosed. Chinese loans are drying up after debt crises in Zambia and Ethiopia, even as Beijing secures long-term control of strategic ports and key mines. The People's Liberation Army Navy now frequents the waters off Africa's coasts, and a naval base in Djibouti signals that, for China at least, Africa is no longer only a business destination. Africa's aid addiction is vanishing, forcing the continent to finally confront the hard business of self-reliance. Hafed Al-Ghwell The upside of these external shifts is a renewed continental resolve to become self-sufficient. Across Africa, a slogan long confined to speeches — 'African solutions to African problems' — is finally gaining some traction. The African Union and other regional organizations are spearheading ambitious initiatives designed to reduce external dependencies. Top of the list is the African Continental Free Trade Area, which was launched in 2021 to knit together 54 African countries into the world's largest free-trade zone. The idea is simple: tear down the internal barriers that make it easier for an African country to trade with Europe or Asia than with its next-door neighbors. Only about 15 percent of Africa's trade is intracontinental, a pitiful figure compared to nearly 70 percent with Europe. The free-trade zone hopes to change that through the elimination of most intra-African tariffs and standardization of trade rules. If fully implemented, it could unlock economies of scale, boost industrial supply chains across borders, and create a truly regional market of 1.4 billion consumers. In practice, progress has been halting — negotiating schedules and customs regulations is painstaking work — but a start at least has been made. The momentum is there: Ghana has exported its first shipment of goods to Kenya under free-trade provisions, which is symbolic of the new possibilities. As of 2023, nearly every member of the African Union had signed up to the zone, and more than 45 have ratified membership. Africa's leaders now routinely talk of 'trade not aid,' reflecting a shift in mindsets at the highest levels. Likewise, there is a continental push for industrialization, to finally break out of the colonial pattern of exporting raw materials and importing finished goods. Countries such as Ethiopia and Rwanda have crafted industrial policies to attract manufacturing, and the free-trade zone is intended to support this by ensuring that once a factory is set up in, say, Kenya it can easily sell its products across borders to Nigeria or South Africa, for example, without prohibitive tariffs or red tape getting in the way. Another pillar of the self-reliance agenda is the digital economy. Africa missed previous industrial revolutions but it is determined not to lose out on the ongoing tech revolution. The continent is already a global leader in some areas of financial technology; mobile money services, born out of Kenya's M-Pesa system, now handle more than a trillion dollars in transactions annually across Africa. By 2022 there were more than 780 million mobile money accounts on the continent, nearly half of the global total, providing financial access for tens of millions of people who never had bank accounts. Underpinning all of these efforts is a philosophical shift: an embrace of self-reliance not as isolationism but as pragmatic empowerment. This does not mean Africa is shutting itself off; foreign investment and partnerships are still welcome and needed. Rather, it means Africans are asserting control over their development priorities, beginning with negotiating tougher trade terms by insisting on local content and addition of value. For perhaps the first time since the 1960s, there is renewed pride in the idea of standing on one's own two feet. This is captured in the African Union's Agenda 2063, which envisions a continent that is integrated, prosperous, and self-determining. This is lofty rhetoric for now — the organization is infamous for grand visions that go unrealized — but the difference is that circumstances are forcing action. With the life raft long provided by donor support shrinking, Africa will either learn to swim or it will sink. • Hafed Al-Ghwell is a senior fellow and executive director of the North Africa Initiative at the Foreign Policy Institute of the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies in Washington, DC. X: @HafedAlGhwell
ME Construction
24-04-2025
- Business
- ME Construction
Kenya cancels $1.39bn highway deal with Vinci
Infrastructure Kenya cancels $1.39bn highway deal with Vinci By Kenya is adjusting its approach to large-scale projects such as roads in response to financial constraints The Kenyan government has terminated a US $1.39bn highway expansion agreement with Vinci Highways. The project could potentially be awarded to a Chinese contractor, as confirmed by government officials and sources familiar with the matter. The project, initially signed in Paris in 2020 during a visit by then-President Uhuru Kenyatta, aimed to transform a 140km single-lane road into a multi-lane highway connecting Nairobi to Nakuru, a city in Kenya's Rift Valley region. The Kenya National Highways Authority (KeNHA) expressed dissatisfaction with the deal, stating that it was not favorable to the country. The agreement would have required the government to cover the costs if insufficient vehicles utilised the road. KeNHA attempted to modify the contract, but Vinci refused to agree, leading the government to cancel the deal, as per a report. 'KeNHA requested a restructuring of the contract but the proposal was considered unbankable thus creating a stalemate,' the agency stated. This led to the issuance of a formal termination notice, effectively ending the deal before any construction had begun. The French-led group included Vinci Highways, Vinci Concessions, and private equity firm Meridiam. Two sources with direct knowledge of the government's plans revealed that the project is now expected to be handed over to a Chinese construction company, although the specific firm has not yet been publicly identified. This shift follows a high-level visit to Beijing earlier this month by Kenya's Finance Minister John Mbadi, who led a delegation for talks with senior Chinese officials. Local media have also reported that President William Ruto is scheduled for a state visit to China later this month, signaling a strengthening of bilateral ties. Kenya is adjusting its approach to large-scale projects like roads in response to financial constraints. To address these challenges, the country is collaborating with both Western and Chinese partners to develop its infrastructure and foster economic growth.
Zawya
11-04-2025
- Business
- Zawya
Kenya pivots to China, away from France for highway deal
Kenya will terminate a 1.3-billion euro highway expansion deal with a consortium led by France's Vinci SA with the project expected to go to a Chinese contractor instead, government officials and sources said. The deal to turn 140 km (87 miles) of single-lane road into a multilane highway linking the capital Nairobi to the Rift Valley city of Nakuru was signed in Paris in 2020 during a visit by then-President Uhuru Kenyatta. Kenya's decision to end the contract comes after government authorities had sought to revisit the terms of the agreement, which the Kenya National Highways Authority (KeNHA) said put the risk from insufficient traffic demand onto the government. "KeNHA requested a restructuring of the contract ... but the proposal was considered unbankable thus creating a stalemate," the agency told Reuters. This led to KeNHA issuing a notice of termination to end the public-private partnership contract, it said. Highway construction for the project had not yet begun. French private equity group Meridiam SAS and Vinci Concessions - also a part of the French infrastructure group - are members of the consortium that is led by Vinci Highways. Vinci declined to comment on the contract's termination. Meridiam did not immediately respond to a request for comment. Meanwhile, two sources with direct knowledge of the government's plan said the contract would be going to a Chinese company, which has not yet been disclosed. The sources asked not to be named as they were not authorised to speak to media. Kenya's Finance Minister John Mbadi led a team of officials to Beijing this month, where they met senior officials. Domestic media have reported that President William Ruto will be heading to China for a state visit later this month. (Reporting by Duncan Miriri; Additional reporting by Liz Lee in Beijing; Editing by Karin Strohecker and Joe Bavier)
