Today is June 25, 2026, and if you tried getting into Nairobi’s Central Business District (CBD) this morning, you likely hit a wall of anti-riot police and razor wire. As the country marks the second anniversary of the historic 2024 Gen Z protests, the government has essentially turned the capital into a fortress.
While the administration insists it is business as usual, the deserted streets of Kenyatta Avenue tell a different story.
The Illusion of a “Normal Working Day”
In the lead-up to today, Government Spokesperson Isaac Mwaura and Interior Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen promised Kenyans that Thursday would be a standard working and school day. Seeking to calm public anxiety, the Matatu Owners Association even assured commuters that public transport would operate normally across all routes.
However, the reality on the ground has been a stark contradiction. Anti-riot police began erecting barricades as early as 2 a.m. along major arteries like the Thika Superhighway, Mombasa Road, and Waiyaki Way. At police checkpoints, matatus are being turned away, and officers have been heard telling stranded commuters, “Hakuna kazi leo rudini nyumbani” (There is no work today, go back home).
A Constitutional Right Denied
This blanket ban on vehicles entering the CBD has paralyzed the city and sparked immediate outrage. The Motorists Association of Kenya has condemned the move as unconstitutional and economically reckless.
As the association rightly pointed out, “Freedom of movement is not a favour – it is a constitutional right”. By blocking access to hospitals, workplaces, and airports, the administration is treating everyday Kenyans as collateral damage simply to project state control.
Razor Wire and the Unresolved Fight for Justice
Today’s heavy-handed police presence—including the deployment of razor wire around Parliament to stop activists from laying memorial flowers—is rooted in the tragic events of exactly two years ago. In June 2024, young Kenyans protested a punitive Finance Bill, resulting in over 120 deaths.
While President Ruto recently announced a Sh448.7 million ($15m) compensation fund for the victims, grieving families have dismissed it as “peanuts” and a cover-up. With only a handful of cases in court and zero police convictions to date, the government’s financial payout feels like an attempt to buy silence rather than deliver justice.
Political Handshakes Over Policy Cures
To survive the fallout of the 2024 unrest, President Ruto reverted to the tired playbook of elite bargaining. He co-opted opposition leader Raila Odinga, backed his bid for the African Union Commission chair, and even appointed ODM’s John Mbadi as Finance Minister.
But political handshakes do not cure economic crises. Today, public tension is simmering once again over the new Finance Act 2026. While the President frames it as a pro-growth law designed to stimulate investment, many citizens view it with deep suspicion, proving that the structural economic issues that ignited the protests remain dangerously unresolved.
An Echo Chamber and Foreign Blunders
Why is the administration so disconnected from the people? Critics argue that State House suffers from “intellectual incest”—an echo chamber where loyalists refuse to tell the President when the truth is ugly.
This disconnect is glaring in domestic scandals, such as the Social Health Authority (SHA) rollout, where billions meant for healthcare are allegedly being lost to dubious deals. It is also evident on the international stage, where Kenya’s diplomatic credibility has taken a massive hit. From the haphazard deployment and abrupt withdrawal of troops in the DRC to the shocking decision to allow Sudan’s Rapid Support Forces (RSF) to establish a parallel government in Nairobi, the administration is accumulating foreign blunders.
The Bottom Line
President Ruto cannot govern by treating Kenya’s capital as a battleground. As Siaya Governor James Orengo said, the silence of empty, blockaded streets is not peace; it is a “roaring testament against tyranny”.
Until the administration chooses genuine dialogue over repression and tackles economic hardship with action rather than political theatrics, today’s roadblocks will remain a glaring symbol of a presidency at war with its own people.
