“Rape is a weapon of war, and it destroys not only the body, but the soul.”
– Dr. Denis Mukwege, 2018 Nobel Peace Prize winner
During the 2024 Gen Z protests, I covered nearly every demonstration, including the massive event on June 25, 2024. I saw mob (in)justice, with people robbed and beaten in broad daylight. Yet one thing I did not see, and I am thankful for it, was women being dragged off motorbikes, attacked, robbed, or (gang)raped.
Data from the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights (KNCHR, 2024) and Amnesty International Kenya confirm there were no documented cases of rape among women protesters during those June 2024 demonstrations. This was a rare reprieve in a country where sexual violence remains a pervasive threat, especially during political unrest.
A Tragic Turn in 2025
But 2025 was tragically different. By the time Kenyans returned to the streets to commemorate the first anniversary of June 2024, so much had changed. Unlike 2024’s united outrage, these protests felt scattered and weary. Yet one thing stood out with horrifying clarity: at least 19 women reported being raped during or shortly after the June 20–25, 2025 demonstrations, as documented by KNCHR (2025) and FIDA Kenya (2025).
For me, those numbers – 19 women raped – made everything else stop. No justification for the protests or government crackdown can excuse the systemic failure that lets rape be used as a weapon of terror.
These rapes did not occur in isolation. They happened in a context of state-sanctioned violence and widespread brutality. During the 2025 Saba Saba protests, at least 41 people were reportedly killed across the country. Videos showed unarmed protesters gunned down, others beaten, while many more were detained or disappeared. It was the kind of coordinated crackdown designed to break the spirit of a nation and for women, the assault was twofold: the threat of death and the terror of sexual violence.
Sexual violence, then, must be understood as part of a broader toolkit of repression – one that includes bullets, tear gas, police batons, illegal arrests, and rape. In such environments, rape becomes both punishment and warning. It tells women, and by extension the public, that dissent will cost more than freedom it may cost your dignity, your body, even your future.
Rape as a Weapon of Terror
Globally, and especially in Africa, it’s well documented that sexual violence is deliberately deployed to instill fear, suppress dissent, or punish communities (UN, 2020). Before the June 25, 2025 protests, online threats circulated suggesting women protesters would be raped. Testimonies revealed some attackers claimed they were “protecting the city” as they preyed on women — a chilling tactic meant to discourage future protests.
A National Crisis of Sexual Violence
Kenyan national data shows this crisis stretches far beyond protests. The Kenya Demographic and Health Survey (KDHS, 2022) found 13% of women aged 15–49 have experienced sexual violence, while 7% of girls aged 15–19 have already endured such trauma.
The Kenya Police Annual Crime Report (2023) recorded 3,527 reported cases of rape and defilement, but experts estimate true numbers could be 4–10 times higher, given the chronic underreporting documented by the National Gender and Equality Commission (NGEC, 2021).
For context, rates of sexual violence among women aged 15–49 are even higher in neighboring countries, with Uganda at 22% (UDHS, 2022) and Tanzania at 17% (TDHS, 2022).
Behind the Statistics: Real Lives, Lasting Trauma
These aren’t just statistics; they represent daughters, sisters, colleagues, and friends whose lives are shattered. The men who commit these atrocities aren’t faceless monsters — they are someone’s sons, brothers, fathers, friends, colleagues, or neighbors. Yet in Kenya, rape cases too often get reduced to a footnote, a brief radio report, a fleeting TV mention, or a headline in the newspaper.
How have we become a society where rape barely registers in the national conscience? How are we so silent as a nation after a record 19 women were raped? How have we become numb to killings in the streets — 41 bodies later — as though democracy can be crushed without consequence?
Personal Encounters with Survivors
Over the years, I’ve spoken out about gender-based violence because of both personal interest and the devastating stories I’ve encountered. My first direct experience with a rape survivor was in 2016. A friend who worked at an organization I did business with in Kisumu disappeared for weeks. When she resurfaced, she confided she had been raped: she traveled overnight from Nairobi to Kisumu, picked a taxi at 5 a.m., and the driver took her on an unfamiliar route, dragged her into an abandoned building, raped her repeatedly at knifepoint, robbed her, and left her for dead. She was later rescued by Good Samaritans and hospitalized.
Sadly, this was just the first of many stories I would hear from girls as young as 15 to women in their 60s, each one devastating. The most painful was a close family member raped simply on her way to work. I’ve seen how rape leaves lasting scars; survivors often struggle to trust again, seeing every man as a potential threat. It robs them of their safety and self-worth.
I believe it would be better to die quickly than to endure the lifelong trauma of rape, because while physical wounds may heal, emotional damage replays endlessly in a survivor’s mind.
Repression Beyond Borders
Around the time of the protests, Kenyan activist Boniface Mwangi and Ugandan activist Agather Atuhaire traveled to Tanzania in solidarity with opposition leader Tundu Lissu. They were reportedly detained, physically and sexually assaulted, and then dumped at the border, as documented by multiple credible sources. This starkly reminds us how sexual violence continues to be wielded as a tool of political repression across East Africa.
Way Forward
These personal stories and stark statistics converge into one inescapable truth: rape should never be normalized as part of protests, conflict, or daily life. It is unacceptable that in 2025, women protesting for freedom and fairness were brutalized into silence.
We must reject a society where rape is normalized or treated as an afterthought. We should be outraged and demand justice every time it happens. We must do better as a nation and as human beings.
Kenya and the world must confront the epidemic of sexual violence with unwavering resolve. That means treating every rape as an intolerable crime, prioritizing survivor support, prosecuting perpetrators, and dismantling societal norms that excuse or ignore these horrors. It also requires sustained public outrage — rape must never be reduced to a footnote.
“Rape is the most destructive weapon in war because it shatters the spirit of a community long after the violence ends.” — Zainab Hawa Bangura, former UN Special Representative on Sexual Violence in Conflict.
Ohaga Ohaga is a Kenyan Journalist, Writer, and Communication Specialist with special interest in Media Law and Political Communication. He remains a close observer of, and participant in, Journalism and the Media.
