Welcome to Kenya, the only country where a police officer can hand you a warrant of arrest that’s as blank as a freshman’s exam script. Mwabili Mwagodi is currently sitting in a cell at Lunga Lunga Police Post, not because he broke a law, but because someone in a high-back chair at Mazingira House hasn’t decided which law he broke yet. It’s the classic Nairobi “vibes and insha’Allah” approach to justice: arrest first, brainstorm the charges over tea later.

The OCS and the DCI officers on the ground are reportedly just hanging around, staring at their phones, waiting for “instructions.” It’s pathetic. These are grown men with uniforms and badges acting like interns who can’t even refill a printer without asking the boss. If the DCI can block you from leaving the country at the border but can’t tell you why, you’re not a suspect; you’re a hostage of the state.

This isn’t Mwagodi’s first rodeo with our special brand of “hospitality.” Remember July 2025? The man was snatched in Dar es Salaam and went silent for days while his wife begged for help. Back then, the DCI played the “jurisdiction” card, claiming they couldn’t possibly help because Tanzania is a whole other country. Funny how their jurisdiction suddenly stretches all the way to the Lunga Lunga border when it’s time to stop a man from breathing fresh air, but it stops at the gate when he’s being abducted.

He was eventually dumped in Kwale like a bag of refuse after four days of God-knows-what. Now, they’ve dropped the amateur kidnapping act and upgraded to “official” detention, though the level of competence remains exactly the same. They have the man, they have the cell, but they don’t have a clue. It’s the same old script we discussed when I told you Kenya Is Rotten To The Core.

At this point, the law in this city is just a suggestion. If you’re an activist, your “rights” are basically a subscription service that the government can cancel without notice. We are living in a loop where “waiting for instructions” is the national anthem of the police force. Don’t act surprised when they finally cook up a charge that sounds like it was written by a comedian on a bad night.

The reality is simple: in Nairobi, you don’t need to be a criminal to end up behind bars; you just need to be someone they don’t like. Mwagodi is just the latest reminder that the border isn’t an exit - it’s just another wall in the larger prison they’re building for anyone who dares to talk back. Keep your bags packed, but don’t expect to go anywhere if Mazingira House hasn’t cleared your soul.