In a region increasingly haunted by the shadows of enforced disappearances, two familiar voices have emerged to challenge the culture of silence: Felix Wambua, the National Coordinator of the Free Kenya Movement, and Hon. Martha Karua, the indomitable leader of the People’s Liberation Party (PLP). Their recent meeting wasn’t a political alliance, nor a symbolic gesture—it was a rallying point for justice.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!For years, whispers of abductions, secret detentions, and cross-border kidnappings have echoed across East Africa, often dismissed as “security matters.” But the recent cases of Bob Njagi and Nicholas Oyoo, allegedly abducted under suspicious circumstances linked to Ugandan authorities, have reignited public outrage. Felix Wambua, known for his uncompromising stand on civil liberties, decided it was time to act—not just protest.
In his words, “We are not just fighting for Bob and Nicholas. We are fighting for the very soul of East Africa—the right to live without fear of your own government.”
The conversation with Martha Karua, a seasoned human rights lawyer and long-time advocate for constitutional justice, added both credibility and clarity to this mission. Together, they are pushing the boundaries of regional accountability in a way few have dared before.
It began like many tragedies do, in silence. Bob Njagi, a young activist known for his outspoken criticism of corruption, was last seen in Nairobi before his trail went cold near the Kenya–Uganda border. Nicholas Oyoo, a journalist investigating alleged cross-border security operations, vanished days later under eerily similar circumstances.
Family members describe nights filled with dread and days consumed by unanswered phone calls, official indifference, and media fatigue. Their mothers still keep their sons’ rooms untouched, as if waiting for them to walk back in at any moment.
“When the police stop answering, and no one in government will speak to you, you realize how powerless you are,” said a relative during a vigil in Nairobi’s Freedom Corner.
Their stories have now become symbols of a larger pattern—young East Africans disappearing under murky “security” operations that cross borders, blurring the line between states and shadow networks. Activists argue these cases are not isolated but part of a wider trend of state-enabled impunity spreading across the region.
Behind every name in the headlines are families enduring unending pain. Mothers aging overnight, children asking where their fathers are, and spouses juggling both grief and survival. This emotional toll often gets buried beneath political statements and diplomatic caution.
Human rights defenders like Felix Wambua understand this despair intimately. He has attended vigils, spoken to survivors, and held press conferences demanding answers that never come. “The cruelest thing,” he once said, “is the not knowing. The waiting breaks people before the truth ever does.”
It’s this very human dimension—the cries of mothers, the trembling voices of siblings—that has transformed the abduction debate from a legal issue into a moral emergency.
Felix Wambua’s Relentless Pursuit of Justice
Felix is not new to confrontation. As the face of the Free Kenya Movement, he’s stood at the forefront of demonstrations against electoral injustices, corruption, and police brutality. But this time, his focus is sharper: ending cross-border abductions and exposing those responsible, no matter their rank or title.
In early October, Felix hosted Hon. Martha Karua at a private consultation in Nairobi. The atmosphere was serious but hopeful. They pored over legal documents, eyewitness reports, and regional treaties, particularly the East African Community Protocol on Peace and Security, which prohibits unlawful detentions and abductions across member states.
Karua, known for her unyielding commitment to justice, advised Felix on potential legal frameworks for regional litigation. But she also reminded him of the need to mobilize public opinion, stating that “justice without pressure rarely moves governments.”
Their meeting became more than just a legal strategy—it was a statement of solidarity between two generations of human rights champions.
Martha Karua’s Call for Accountability
After the meeting, Martha Karua addressed the press with characteristic candor:
“Silence in the face of abductions is complicity. We cannot call ourselves democracies when our citizens are disappearing without a trace.”
Karua’s words struck a chord. Social media erupted with messages of support, while regional news outlets picked up the story. She challenged both the African Union and the United Nations Human Rights Council to investigate abuses in Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania, noting that the international community’s indifference has only emboldened perpetrators.
Her stance also drew attention to the shrinking civic space in East Africa, where journalists, activists, and opposition figures are increasingly targeted under the guise of national security. For her, the fight isn’t just legal—it’s deeply moral. “We are not enemies of the state,” she said. “We are defenders of the people’s dignity.”
To understand the gravity of what Felix and Karua are fighting, one must first acknowledge the pattern of impunity sweeping across East Africa. Reports from watchdog organizations paint a grim picture: coordinated operations, unmarked vehicles, unidentified officers, and victims who vanish across borders.
Uganda’s security agencies have long faced accusations of abducting opposition supporters, particularly during election seasons. Kenya, too, has seen a rise in enforced disappearances linked to anti-terror operations. Tanzania has been criticized for similar practices targeting journalists and activists.
These actions defy not only national constitutions but also regional agreements under the East African Community (EAC) that uphold human rights and the rule of law.
What’s alarming is how these states sometimes collaborate—sharing intelligence and suspects—without judicial oversight. It’s a shadow network that erodes trust and threatens the democratic fabric of the region.
Uganda’s reputation for heavy-handed security tactics isn’t new. But when such operations allegedly cross into Kenyan territory, they raise profound legal and moral questions. Kenya’s muted response to the abductions of Njagi and Oyoo has left activists furious.
Felix Wambua accuses both governments of “turning borders into hunting grounds for dissenters.” His upcoming lawsuit aims to challenge this practice before the East African Court of Justice, arguing that it constitutes a violation of the EAC Treaty, which requires member states to respect human rights and refrain from acts that destabilize neighboring nations.
Observers believe this case could expose how informal agreements between regional security agencies are being misused to target critics—a dangerous precedent for East Africa’s democracy.
Taking the Fight to the East African Court of Justice
Armed with documents, eyewitness statements, and legal counsel from Martha Karua, Felix Wambua, and a coalition of human rights defenders are now preparing to sue the Government of Uganda at the East African Court of Justice (EACJ).
Their petition will seek not only justice for Njagi and Oyoo but also a landmark ruling against cross-border abductions—a decision that could reshape regional security practices.
Legal experts believe the case could hinge on whether the court acknowledges abductions as a regional human rights issue, not just a domestic one. If successful, it would compel member states to adopt stricter accountability measures and possibly compensate the families of victims.
Karua’s legal expertise will be instrumental, but as Felix emphasizes, “This is not about politics—it’s about principles.”
Should the case succeed, it would be the first of its kind in East Africa, a direct challenge to state-sponsored abductions through regional legal channels. It would also empower civil society groups across the continent to use regional courts as instruments of justice when domestic systems fail.
In many ways, this case symbolizes a turning point: the moment when ordinary citizens, through organized civil movements, begin to hold entire governments accountable beyond national borders.
