The High Court is currently patting itself on the back, quoting poetry about how life is “inviolable” and “sacrosanct.” It’s a nice sentiment for a Law Society dinner, but on the streets of Likoni, those words don’t pay for the funeral. Justice finally caught up with Yunus Athman, sentencing him to life for the cold-blooded murder of 20-year-old Mbaraka Maitha Omar. But let’s be real - how many Omars are currently buried under “unclear circumstances” because they didn’t have a high-profile investigation or a judge ready to give a blistering lecture?

Athman’s court performance was straight out of the Nairobi “Guilty Cop” playbook. He spent the trial clutching a Bible the size of a bricksheet, trying to pull the Sunday School routine while witness after witness described him executing a defenseless boy. It’s a tired script. They find Jesus the moment the handcuffs start clicking, hoping the “remorse” card will cancel out the fact that they used a state-issued pistol to settle a dispute over a stolen goat. A life for a goat - that’s the exchange rate the police seem to be operating on these days.

The real stench, however, doesn’t just come from Athman; it comes from the station. His boss, Chief Inspector Patrick Lumumba, tried to pull the oldest trick in the manual: the “he had a machete” defense. The OCS literally tried to plant evidence to turn a murder into a “justified shooting.” If the Independent Policing Oversight Authority hadn’t been breathing down their necks, that fake machete would have been accepted as gospel. It makes you wonder how many “recovered weapons” currently sitting in evidence rooms across this city were actually bought at the local hardware store five minutes after a body hit the floor.

Then there’s the matter of Albert Wekesa, the boda boda rider who saw it all. He ended up dead under “unclear circumstances.” In this country, “unclear circumstances” is just the official translation for “he knew too much and didn’t have a badge to protect him.” While the court is busy sending a “strong message” to rogue officers, the reality remains that being a witness against the blue uniform is a high-risk occupation. Athman is going to Shimo la Tewa, but the machinery that attempted to cover for him is still very much in place, probably training the next “trigger-happy” recruit.

The judge says life isn’t diminished by status or suspicion, but out here, your status determines whether you get a trial or a shallow grave. We’ll take this win for Omar’s family because it’s better than the usual silence, but don’t expect us to start clapping for a system that only works when it’s backed into a corner by ballistic fragments and public outrage. When the National Police Service stops acting like a state-sanctioned gang and starts acting like a service, then maybe we can talk about the “integrity of justice.” Until then, keep your head down and your eyes open.