.png)
Edwin Gathigi’s case is the kind of story that should force Kenya to pause and ask itself a hard question: “Are we still a country guided by justice, evidence and fairness or have we become a country where a single accusation, whether true or manufactured, can destroy the boy-child beyond repair?”
Because when a 19-year-old is sentenced to life imprisonment, serves more than two years in a maximum prison and only regains freedom after a key witness admits they lied, then that is not just “a mistake.” That is a national indictment of how fragile and unfair our system can be when the Sexual Offences Act is weaponised.
Edwin has already paid with two years of his youth for a crime he never committed. Two years in prison is not “a small inconvenience.” It is a lifetime of psychological torture compressed into days and nights of fear, humiliation, violence, loss and shame. It is education interrupted, dreams suspended and dignity stripped away.
He was unable to complete school like his age-mates. He was locked away while the world moved on. And after all that, Kenya must ask: who will pay for those wasted years? Who will return his lost time? Who will undo the trauma? Who will compensate the suffering?
When the justice system fails this badly, an “apology” is not justice. Freedom after two years is not enough. It is simply the minimum correction after a grave and unforgivable injustice has already been committed.
What makes this case more painful is that it is not unique. Many families in Kenya know a boy-child, a brother, a son, a husband, a neighbour or a classmate who has been dragged into a defilement case not because he is guilty, but because he was vulnerable. Sometimes it begins in the home, where family feuds and grudges turn poisonous. A disagreement between relatives, a fight over inheritance, a land boundary issue, a rivalry between co-wives, a broken relationship, a revenge mission after a romantic fallout... these are not small things in real life.
In some homes, when adults want to hurt each other deeply, they do not fight fair. They target the most valuable thing: someone’s child, someone’s reputation, someone’s future. And the easiest “weapon” to deploy is a defilement accusation, because it doesn’t require a mountain of proof to destroy a man socially. It only needs a story that triggers shock, anger and moral panic.
In Edwin’s case, the allegations were reportedly rooted in a family feud and revenge, with the main witness later confessing that she lied and was influenced. That alone tells Kenya exactly how these injustices happen: one person makes the allegation, another person “backs it up,” and the system moves like a bulldozer.
The boy is arrested. The label is stamped on his forehead. The village is told. The family is shamed. The boy is condemned before being heard. Even if he has evidence, even if he has witnesses, even if his story makes sense, people do not listen to him because the public has already decided he is guilty.
And this is where the Kenyan justice system begins to fail the boy-child, because in many such cases, what a minor is coached to say is treated like gospel truth, while what the accused boy says is treated like a desperate lie. It is a strange injustice where the concept of “innocent until proven guilty” collapses completely once the word defilement enters the discussion. A young man becomes guilty first, then he must struggle to prove innocence from inside a prison cell with no resources, no influence and no voice.
The journey of injustice often continues at the police station. This is a place where, in an ideal system, truth should be protected and evidence should be tested. But in reality, many Kenyans know what happens at some OB desks.... A complainant arrives emotional and accompanied by relatives, neighbours, or “well-wishers.” Pressure is mounted. The police officer on duty may already be biased by sympathy, by public mood or by the desire to appear tough on crime.
The accused is arrested quickly, sometimes before thorough investigation. In some situations, he is told, “Kama huna kitu ya kutupea utalala ndani,” or he is threatened until he confesses or he is advised to “settle the matter” outside.
Others are simply framed through statements written in a way that does not reflect what really happened. The accused signs because he is scared, confused, uneducated or believes the officer is helping him. Others sign because they are intimidated and want the beating to stop. By the time the file is being prepared for court, the case narrative is already shaped against him.
Then comes the hospital process, where in a clean justice system, medical evidence should be scientific, credible, transparent and professionally documented. But we have all heard stories and raised concerns about hospitals where medical reports are treated like a tool to complete a case rather than a tool to find the truth.
Almost all the victims of wrongful accusations never get an opportunity to question doctor's findings or to ensure procedures were done properly. Most tell of accounts of doctoring, exaggeration or rushed conclusions made under pressure from families or police. This is not to accuse all doctors... Most are honest professionals, but to acknowledge that when a process is done in secrecy, with no oversight, without balance and without the accused having any representation, it becomes an easy space for manipulation.
If the whole case will rely heavily on medical evidence, then why is the process treated like a private family affair where the accused has zero protection? And this is where the comparison with murder cases becomes extremely important, because it exposes why many Kenyans view defilement investigations as fundamentally unfair.
In murder cases, the suspect, however hated, has rights. There is often professional scrutiny. There is often a higher level of forensic involvement. For instance, during the post-mortem of the body of the murdered person, the accused can attend by representation: either by family members, lawyers or independent doctors can participate or observe, ensuring transparency and accountability.
However, in defilement cases, the accused suspect is usually locked up, far away and the medical examination is conducted entirely at the discretion of the complainant’s side and law enforcement. No lawyer. No independent observer. No neutral oversight. The suspect is expected to just accept whatever report is produced, even if it is questionable, even if it is inconsistent, even if timelines do not add up, even if the story has gaps.
Then comes the court process, where the injustice becomes even more brutal. In murder cases, the court understands the weight of the matter and often demands corroboration and strong evidence because the stakes are high. There is a deeper culture of forensic investigation and structured probing because the court appreciates that a life is at stake and the state must prove its case beyond reasonable doubt.
There is also, critically, judicial discretion in sentencing. Murder is serious... Life sentence or even death sentence can apply... Here the courts often have room to evaluate all circumstances, listen to mitigation, examine facts deeply and deliver a proportionate sentence. That discretion is part of justice, because justice is not only about punishment, it is also about fairness, context and the truth.
But in defilement cases, the opposite happens... The accused is treated like the case is already decided and sentencing is cast in stone. Statutory minimum sentences and rigid punishment structures mean that once a conviction happens, the judge’s hands are tied even when circumstances are complicated or evidence is weak.
This is an injustice that terrifies families because it means a boy can be jailed for decades or life based on a flawed case and the court has little flexibility to correct the imbalance at sentencing stage. That is why I say a defilement accusation is a “death sentence,” not because the law is wrong in protecting children, but because the process can crush an innocent person without giving them fair tools to defend themselves.
The most dangerous injustice in this whole debate is the assumption that “a minor” only exists on one side. Kenya rightly treats a girl below 18 as a minor who cannot give consent, who is vulnerable, and who needs protection. That is correct. But why does the same protection disappear when the boy is also under 18?
If a 16-year-old girl and a 16-year-old boy are involved in a sexual relationship, how does one automatically become the “victim minor” while the other automatically becomes the “adult criminal,” yet both are children by law? Is being a minor now a gender? Is childhood now a privilege reserved for one sex?
This contradiction is one of the biggest reasons people feel the system is biased against the boy-child, because it paints a picture where a girl is always vulnerable and incapable of decision-making, while the boy, of the same age, is treated as fully responsible like a grown man, even when he is also still a child, still a student, still dependent, still immature, still developing mentally, emotionally and socially.
That is why Kenyans must debate this law openly and honestly, because it is not enough to say “protect children” if the law itself ends up destroying children on the other side. Protection cannot be selective. Justice cannot be gendered. If the nation agrees that under 18 is a minor, then that principle cannot be applied only when it helps one side and ignored when it would shield the other from unfair punishment. A boy-child cannot be both a “child” in school and a “man” in court depending on what the system wants at the moment.
And let us not pretend that manipulation ends in the home. In many cases, emotional manipulation becomes a deliberate strategy. Cases are driven not by evidence but by drama, unwarranted negative publicity and public shaming. The accused is paraded as guilty. His photo circulates. His name is dragged. Headlines are written to inflame emotions. People are mobilised to shout “haki yetu!” before investigations are complete.
Courts and prosecutors come under pressure to “teach him a lesson.” It becomes a performance where the goal is not truth but victory. When the court process becomes an emotional battlefield, the accused stands no chance because justice starts being decided by tears and noise instead of facts.
Then we return to the most painful question of all: What happens when the boy is found innocent later?
Edwin was freed, yes. But what happened to those who implicated him? What happens to those who lied? What happens to those who influenced the lies? What happens to officers or medics or anyone who may have played a role in pushing a weak case forward? In most situations, they go home. They sleep peacefully. They continue living. Meanwhile, the innocent young man must start life from zero, with trauma, stigma and lost years.
This lack of accountability is what encourages more abuse of the system. It teaches malicious people that framing a man is low-risk and high-reward. They can punish him, remove him from the way, humiliate him and even use the opportunity to take property or destroy family stability, while facing no consequences. And if the accused boy is poor, he will not even have the means to pursue justice against those who harmed him.
This is why my call for reform is not only reasonable... It is urgent. If in murder cases the state can guarantee certain safeguards because the stakes are high, then defilement cases, which also carry life-altering sentences and irreversible stigma, must also be treated with that same seriousness.
Kenya must consider free legal representation or state-supported pro bono services for accused persons facing such heavy penalties, because most come from poor backgrounds and cannot defend themselves adequately. A case that can imprison someone for life is not a “simple case” that should be left to a scared boy and a helpless family in a village. It demands strong defence, serious investigations and strict standards.
Kenya must also overhaul how investigations are done. Murder cases often trigger specialised homicide investigations, forensic collection, scene visits, labs, expert analysis, and structured evidence-building. But in many defilement cases, the investigation is left to ordinary processes, sometimes reduced to a few statements at the OB desk, with no scene visit, no forensic scrutiny and no deep probing of motives or malice.
The system must begin treating defilement accusations with both seriousness and caution: seriousness for protection of minors and caution because the consequences of getting it wrong are catastrophic.
Edwin Gathigi’s case is a victory because an innocent young man is free and he can return to school and chase his dream of becoming a chef. But the deeper truth is that it is also a tragedy because the system stole years he will never recover.
His release should not just be a feel-good story. It should be a national wake-up call and a warning that unless we debate and reform the Sexual Offences Act and its implementation, Kenya will continue to imprison innocence, destroy futures and kill the boy-child slowly through a system that listens more to emotion than evidence.
We can protect the girl-child without destroying the boy-child. We can punish predators without sacrificing innocent young men. We can stand with victims of sexual violence while also condemning false accusations and the corruption that enables them.
But that can only happen if Kenyans stop being afraid of this conversation and demand a fairer, evidence-based, transparent justice process where “minor” does not have a gender, where false testimony carries consequences and where no boy is condemned just because society needed someone to blame.
The time is now for our Parliamentarians to stand up and be counted. Amend the Sexual Offences Act NOW!!
C.E.O. Thika Town Today - 3T
Fully support the need to Ammend this act.
ReplyDelete