In a fiery and defiant tone, former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua has rubbished accusations linking him to the deployment of hired goons who allegedly infiltrated and derailed the peaceful youth-led protests that rocked the nation on June 25, 2025.
Speaking candidly in a live interview with NTV, Gachagua tore into what he termed as a calculated political witch-hunt, calling out the government’s duplicity and apparent unwillingness to act on intelligence — if indeed any existed.
“If they had intelligence that goons had been paid by Rigathi or anybody else, why didn’t they arrest these goons?” he posed, in a direct challenge to the state’s narrative and a bold attempt to flip the script on those accusing him.
In an emotionally charged exchange, the outspoken former DP accused the government of weaponizing intelligence reports to malign political opponents, insisting that the real motive was to deflect attention from the genuine cries of Kenya’s youth — cries rooted in frustration over economic despair, ballooning public debt, police violence, and a tone-deaf leadership.
Gachagua argued that the alleged failure by state agencies to arrest or neutralize the so-called goons is proof that the claims were either fabricated or being used as a cover-up to shield internal sabotage of the movement by rogue actors within government ranks.
“If these were my goons, I want to tell you today, they would have been shot dead or be in custody,” he stated, throwing a sharp spotlight on what many are now calling selective justice and a troubling double standard in how law enforcement handles politically sensitive cases.
The former second-in-command didn’t stop there. He went on to openly question Interior Cabinet Secretary Kipchumba Murkomen’s credibility, taking issue with his insinuation that political forces had masterminded the chaos.
“If there was such intelligence, why didn’t they act on it?” Gachagua asked again — a question that now hangs ominously over the heads of the country’s security leadership.
Then, in a scathing rebuke, he accused CS Murkomen of insulting the intelligence of Kenyans:
“He must respect the people and stop taking them for fools,” Gachagua remarked, tapping into the deep undercurrent of public resentment over state arrogance, opacity, and evasion of accountability.
The protests of June 25, largely spontaneous and driven by Generation Z, marked a seismic moment in Kenya’s democratic journey.
What began as peaceful demonstrations turned into scenes of chaos and destruction, but to many observers, it was not the youth who lost the plot — it was the state, in its reaction and response.
Gachagua’s comments have now intensified the national conversation, further polarizing an already divided political class.
Supporters see his stance as a brave and necessary intervention — a call for truth, accountability, and respect for the people’s voice. Critics, however, view it as an opportunistic attempt to dodge scrutiny and settle political scores.
Either way, his words cut to the heart of the country’s deepening crisis: a government under siege by its own people, and a political elite increasingly out of touch with the pain on the ground.
“Why were the looters not arrested or shot?” he asked in conclusion — a searing indictment not just of law enforcement, but of a leadership that seems more invested in shifting blame than solving problems.
As Kenya reels from the aftershocks of the Gen Z uprising, Gachagua’s remarks underscore a broader truth — the country is at a crossroads, and the youth are no longer whispering. They are demanding.
And they are watching.
