Justice Nest, a small but mighty non-profit, is standing in the gap for women, children and prisoners, families broken by legal battles, poverty and silence.
With a mission to make justice not just a privilege but a right, they’re helping the forgotten find their way back to dignity.
At Shimo La Tewa Prison on Kenya’s coast, a rare kind of silence now fills a remand block teeming with detainees. That silence speaks volumes, it echoes hope, freedom and second chances.
The shift is one of the clearest success stories of a groundbreaking Children and Mothers Restorative Justice Diversion Programme and Prison Paralegal Programme by Justice Nest, founded by Nairobi-based advocate Miriam Wachira.
The quiet revolution is one of the organisation's projects that was started in 2024. In February this year, in the coastal town of Mombasa, Justice Nest trained 33 inmates and officers to become paralegals, equipping them with legal education to improve access to justice.
Wachira, a seasoned children’s rights defender and now a national advocate for justice reform, especially for poor women and mothers imprisoned for petty offences, views using the power of law to alleviate human suffering as her grand calling.
The Children and Mothers Restorative Justice Diversion Programme aims to break the cycle of imprisonment by diverting mothers and children from the justice system and focusing on their rehabilitation.
“Justice Nest seeks to close the justice gap while reducing the number of imprisoned people. With more than 60,000 people imprisoned in Kenya, nearly half in pretrial detention, most cannot afford lawyers. They face court without understanding their rights or how to defend themselves, which often leads them to take the wrong plea,” Wachira says.
To bridge this gap, Justice Nest trains inmates and officers in legal basics, from understanding the charges to making bail applications, plea bargaining, and navigating the court system. Supervised by qualified advocates, these newly trained prison paralegals have already helped more than 300 people secure their release or resolve cases.
“Some inmates didn’t even know what questions they were allowed to ask in court. Others had never seen a witness statement. Others simply didn’t know how to tell their side of the story and when you can’t speak for yourself, only one version is heard. We’re giving them the power to be heard. That’s the beginning of justice.”
Wachira is especially focused on women entangled in the criminal justice system by poverty. Many are serving sentences for offences like selling illicit brews, stealing small amounts of money, or assault, often rooted in desperation.
“One of the first questions we ask is whether these women are habitual offenders. And most are not. They’re pushed into the system by economic hardship. Locking them up causes a ripple effect: children scattered across relatives or put in children’s homes, homes abandoned, jobs lost. The cycle only deepens,” she says.
To interrupt that cycle, Justice Nest promotes alternative justice before prosecution. The team interviews women in custody to assess whether cases can be resolved outside court, through apologies, mediation, or community service. They prioritise single mothers and low-level offences.
One success story involves a woman arrested in Nairobi's CBD with her infant, caught selling illicit brew to feed her children. She couldn’t afford a Sh2,000 fine. Justice Nest not only paid her fine, but discovered she was a skilled hairdresser and helped her secure stable employment.
In another case, a domestic worker stole Sh13,000 after her three children fell ill. She couldn’t raise Sh3,000 for bail. Justice Nest mediated with her employer, facilitated her release, and reunited her with her children.
For Mother’s Day, Justice Nest did a campaign dubbed Pendo La Mama, a nationwide push to release as many mothers as possible in time for the holiday.
“If we can get even a few women home to their children for Mother’s Day, that’s a victory,” Wachira says.
The campaign targets women held for petty offences, or those eligible for release but stuck due to unpaid fines or lack of legal support. For those who remain behind bars, the organisation steps in to support their children, covering school fees, delivering care packages, and offering psychosocial care.
Justice Nest also provides re-entry care packages for released mothers: hygiene items, dignity kits, and food for the first day of freedom.
She longs for a justice system that sees the whole person, including whom they are carrying with them.
“Yes, someone may have committed a crime. But what else do they bring with them? Do they have children? A job? A life worth protecting?”
She believes the Kenyan justice system must begin to ask different questions, about mental health, family, and social context, before sending women to prison.
“I remember a woman telling me that before we give her legal assistance could we trace her kids. Unfortunately, some of them are even free but cannot get their children, as some have been given up for adoption as they did not get a proper handover at the children’s home informing them that the parents are in court, while others were given to relatives," Wachira says.
"Most of them scatter when the judgment is made to the mother. Others are forced to 'mother' their siblings, in some cases ending up as sex workers at a young age such as 15 years. The circle repeats itself. Our aim is to break this and create a family-centered justice system that doesn’t just look at the offence, but at the lives entangled with it.”
Before launching prison programmes, Miriam built her career defending children in conflict with the law. Early in her career, she volunteered in correctional facilities through the Christian Legal Education Aid and Research (CLEAR) initiative.
It was here that she got interest in empowering the people behind bars, and even helped develop the National Throughcare and Aftercare Guidelines for minors in the justice system.
She pioneered Children’s Service Week, a national effort that connects child offenders to legal aid and government services, as well as look into cases that affect children that have been delayed for long.
“Children can be charged with the same offences as adults: theft, assault, but they often don’t understand what’s happening. Many of them went unrepresented behind bars, until I stepped in and became their voice,” she says.
That foundation continues to shape her work in adult prisons. Whether defending a minor or a mother, Wachira remains committed to justice that restores, not destroys.
Justice Nest’s paralegal programme now runs in three Shimo La Tewa units: maximum, women’s and medium prisons and Wachira is eager to scale up, especially in rural prisons with little to no access to legal aid.
With just 23 out of 134 prisons offering structured legal support, the need is urgent.
“Law is power, and how we use it determines whether we break people or restore them.”
At a time when Kenya’s justice system often feels harsh and transactional, Wachira and Justice Nest are reminding the country that justice can be warm, radical, and deeply human.
