At Kenyatta National Hospital (KNH), 21-year-old Samuel Omondi Okoth lies in agony, his back riddled with rubber bullets eight in total fired during the June 17, 2025 protests in Nairobi. While seven bullets have been removed, one remains dangerously lodged near his spinal cord, threatening permanent paralysis. Doctors are awaiting a delicate procedure by a spine specialist, scheduled for next week.
Samuel alleges that the police officer who shot and killed hawker Boniface Kariuki during the protests is the same one who turned his weapon on him. He says he was targeted right after confronting the officer about Kariuki’s shooting. “Before I could run, I felt a heavy force on my back,” he recalls. The rubber bullets tore through his clothes, and he now relies on a plastic bag for short calls due to his injuries.
Samuel wasn’t the only one wounded. Two others who tried to help him were also shot, one in the leg. All three were rushed to hospital in the same ambulance.
Across the orthopedic wing, 29-year-old Francis Oduor nurses a ruptured leg. He was heading home from work when tear gas forced a panicked rush for safety. Amid the chaos, he stopped to help a woman who had fallen—only to be struck by a rubber bullet. “They carried me on a cart. I bled for nearly an hour before getting help,” he says.
Both men are now living testaments to the blurred lines between law enforcement and excessive force. Witnesses claim the protests were hijacked by goons while security officers watched passively. In the ensuing disorder, real victims—like Samuel and Francis—were left to suffer.
Their families are pleading for financial support and accountability. “Justice must be served,” Samuel’s mother insists, as medical bills continue to mount.
For these young men, recovery will demand more than surgeries and stitches. It requires truth, responsibility, and a commitment from authorities to end impunity in Kenya’s streets.
