Muzzled by state: Father torn between grieving daughter aloud and duty

A chief’s life in Nanyuki has been shattered after his daughter’s death, allegedly in the hands of police and prison authorities.

Martin Kariuki Rienye, of Nturukuma Location, has served the government for 12 years, starting out as an assistant chief before his promotion to chief. He has enforced the law, maintaining order, and upholding State authority.

But now, he finds himself broken and conflicted, a man torn apart after losing his firstborn daughter, Julia Wangui Kariuki — allegedly at the hands of the very administration he has stood beside — while she was in the hands of law enforcers.

Trapped between grief and duty, the chief has been reduced to a man in hiding, his voice drowned out by intimidation as his tears flow in conditioned silence.

He has reportedly been warned not to speak to the media, even as his family pleads with him to break ranks and demand justice.

His mother, Susan Kirigo, has urged him to resign, questioning how a man can serve a government that presides over the brutal death of his child.

The dilemma is not just personal—it is symbolic of the systemic rot that has left public servants torn between protecting the state and protecting their own families.

Those close to him say the once-confident, commanding man has withered into a shell of himself.

“He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He keeps to himself, walks with his head low, and avoids eye contact. You can feel his pain just by looking at him. He only emerges when absolutely necessary. The silence has become his prison, his grief buried beneath layers of fear, duty, and unresolved guilt. While the system that failed his daughter continues to operate without consequence, he remains stuck and haunted by the daughter he couldn’t save and the government he’s expected to defend,” his mother Susan told The Standard in Nanyuki on Monday.

Behind his silence is the story of a daughter who never made it home —a young woman who left to pick up house keys from her father’s office and ended up dead; a granddaughter who lay unconscious in a public hospital as government bureaucracy, negligence, and fear sealed her fate.

She was a mother of two who was never part of the Saba Saba protests, and yet ended up among its victims. Her family is left to mourn, while one of their own remains muzzled by fear, loyalty or both.

This year’s Saba Saba protests, marked on July 7, were reignited by young people—mostly Gen Z—whose efforts to commemorate 35 years of the Saba Saba spirit were frustrated by heavy police deployments.

What began as peaceful protests turned deadly as police cracked down, with rights groups reporting nearly 40 killed, 107 injured, and over 500 arrested. Julia, however, was not among the protesters yet she became another statistic.

Julia, 30, left her father’s workplace after collecting house keys. Somewhere along the way, she was arrested under unclear circumstances.

Her family still does not know what she was accused of or the exact time she was picked up, but that night she slept in a police cell in Nanyuki.

By Tuesday morning— July 8—she was arraigned. According to her grandmother, Susan, Julia refused to plead guilty to charges she did not understand and requested bail. The court set the bond at Sh50,000, which she could not raise at the time.

That night, still in custody, Julia was taken to Nanyuki Teaching and Referral Hospital, but no one in the family was informed. It wasn’t until the morning of Wednesday that her father received a call from prison authorities. Alarmed, he called his mother and asked her to check on Julia. What she found was devastating.

“She was unconscious and struggling to breathe. We ran to the nurse in charge and begged for her to be transferred to another hospital, but the process dragged on all day,” Susan recalls.

Upon finding Julia in a critical state, the family sought better medical care but were told that government hospitals in the area were full and there was no ambulance available.

Desperate, they turned to Nanyuki Cottage Hospital, a private facility, only to face another hurdle — the Sh50,000 bond imposed by the court, which stood in the way of her admission.

“We were told she couldn’t be admitted unless the bond was cleared. I pleaded with the police and finally they allowed us to take her there. She was admitted at 1.30 am on Thursday, but it was too late for immediate surgery. The procedure was scheduled for Friday,” said Susan.

The surgery lasted six hours. Doctors at the hospital revealed that Julia had suffered a blood clot in her brain.

“They said they had removed the clot and were hopeful, but at 12.45 am she died,” Susan says, her voice trembling.

Kenya Prisons Service (KPS), in a letter to The Standard, claimed they did everything possible to save Julia’s life.

The letter, signed by Chrisantus Makokha, the KPS spokesman, said Julia’s situation deteriorated on Wednesday morning: “On Wednesday the doctor referred her to Nanyuki Referral and Teaching Hospital for a CT scan, which was not available. On receiving results, the doctor at the referral hospital recommended further medical management at Nanyuki Cottage Hospital. Julia was taken from referral hospital to the Cottage Hospital on Wednesday, around 2300 hours where she was admitted in the ICU.”

The letter makes no mention of a missing ambulance or the issue of bond clearance.

Yesterday, the family said no apology has been issued and no explanation offered.

“What caused the haemorrhage in her brain? Why wasn’t she treated sooner? Why was there no medication or ambulance for hours as her condition worsened? We are left with painful questions and no answers,” said Susan.

“My granddaughter was a mother, a daughter, a kind soul. She wasn’t even demonstrating. They took her, they beat her, and they watched her slip away without helping.”

The pain, she says, has been worsened by police intimidation. The family noticed a heavy police presence at both hospitals during Julia’s final days.

“They were everywhere, watching us. Even now, they are warning my son not to speak to journalists. He’s hiding. He’s scared. He cries in silence,” she said.

Susan, however, refuses to stay quiet. She has called on her son to resign from public service.

“He cannot serve a government that killed his daughter. I told the Deputy County Commissioner to fire him if he’s too afraid to act. Sh30,000 salary a month is not worth my grandchild’s blood. I have told him, you can’t wear a badge with pride when that badge is silent about your child’s death,” she said.

Julia’s two children, aged 13 and 10, are now under their grandmother’s care.

“I’m a grandmother. I should be enjoying life, not raising more children. But here we are, burying our first grandchild. And no one is being held accountable,” Susan said.

The family says the Independent Policing Oversight Authority (IPOA) has assured them that an investigation is underway and a pathologist will be involved in the post-mortem scheduled for Tuesday (today).

“They keep calling me, telling me not to lead any demonstrations and insisting that IPOA is handling the case and will provide all the support we need. But to me, those are just empty words because so far, no justice has been served. Yesterday, they called again and asked if I was involved in planning demonstrations in Likii. I told them I haven’t organised anything, it’s the people who were close to our family and knew Julia.”