Kenya stands at an inflection
point in its long and often painful journey toward justice. The publication of the
Reparations Guidelines, 2026 by the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights is a
moral signal, not merely a technical or administrative milestone. It affirms that as a
nation, we are prepared to confront past injustices with honesty, and more importantly, with
action.
But if we are to be
candid, guidelines alone do not deliver justice. Implementation does. And implementation, if
it is to be meaningful, must be anchored in a clear philosophy of governance.
From
where I stand, as governor of Mombasa and as a leader shaped by social democratic values,
reparations must be understood not just as compensation for harm, but as instruments for
correcting inequality and restoring dignity in a substantive, enduring way.
At their core, the guidelines adopt a
broad and progressive definition of reparations, encompassing
compensation, restitution, rehabilitation, satisfaction and guarantees of non-repetition. This is
consistent with global best practice. However, the real question is whether we will interpret
these provisions narrowly, as a checklist exercise, or expansively, as a framework for
transformation.
For far too long,
many Kenyan communities have lived with the lingering effects of historical injustices whether
through state excesses, systemic marginalisation, or economic exclusion.
In such a context,
reparations cannot be reduced to individual payouts. They must also speak to collective harm.
Entire communities have borne the cost of past violations, and it is only just that they are
recognised and supported collectively.
This is why a stronger emphasis on community-level
interventions (schools, health facilities, economic infrastructure) must be central to the
reparations agenda.
Equally important
is accessibility. The guidelines rightly emphasise that the process must be inclusive and
non-discriminatory. Yet we know from experience that many citizens, particularly the
poor, the vulnerable and those in informal settlements, are often excluded not by law, but by
logistics.
If reparations are to be meaningful, they must be brought closer to the people. This
means decentralising registration and verification processes, leveraging county structures
and actively reaching out to those who might otherwise remain invisible.
Rehabilitation is
another area where we must be deliberate. The guidelines recognise the need for medical,
psychological and social support for victims. This is not a peripheral issue.
Many victims of
human rights violations carry invisible wounds: trauma, anxiety, loss of livelihood and
social dislocation. Reparations that do not address these realities are incomplete. We must
therefore integrate rehabilitation into our public health systems, ensuring that
victims have sustained access to care, including mental health services, not
just one-off
interventions.
There is also an
economic dimension that cannot be ignored. Human rights violations often result in lost opportunities;
jobs that were never secured, businesses that never recovered, education that was
interrupted. The guidelines acknowledge this, but we must go further.
Reparations should
actively restore economic agency. This means linking victims to livelihood
programmes, skills development and access to capital. It also means ensuring
that they are not left
at the margins of economic growth, but are deliberately included in it.
Perhaps the most
critical pillar, however, is the guarantee of non-repetition. Reparations are not only about the
past but they are also about the future. The guidelines call for accountability,
institutional reform and stronger oversight.
These are not optional extras; they are the
foundation of public trust. Citizens must see that violations have
consequences, that institutions
are capable of reform and that the state is committed to protecting rights going forward.
Without this, reparations risk being perceived as an attempt to close a chapter without
truly addressing its causes.
Transparency will
also determine the credibility of this process. The provisions on reporting, record-keeping and
audit are essential, but they must be brought to life.
Kenyans deserve to know how many
claims have been received, how decisions are made and how resources are allocated. A
transparent, publicly accessible system for tracking progress would go a long way in building
confidence and ensuring accountability.
Finally, we must
confront the question of financing. Reparations cannot be an unfunded mandate. If we are
serious about justice, then we must be equally serious about resourcing it.
This calls for a
deliberate national commitment, including the establishment of a dedicated reparations fund
and clear frameworks for collaboration between national and county governments.
The promise of the
Reparations Guidelines, 2026 is real. They provide us with a structure, a language and a
starting point. But whether they succeed will depend on the choices we make now. Will we treat
reparations as a procedural obligation, or as an opportunity to reshape our social
contract?
For me, the answer
is clear. Justice must be felt, not just declared. It must be seen in the lives of those who have
waited longest for it. And it must leave our society more equal, more humane and more
united than we found it.
That is the test
before us. And it is one we cannot afford to fail.
The writer is ODM deputy leader and Mombasa governor