Kenyan artists join the movement demanding social justice from the Ruto Government
By Vanesa Menendez Montero from Nairobi (Kenya)
Since June 2024, Kenyan youth have been mobilizing against the policies of William Ruto’s Government. Activism through art has established itself as one of the ways to propose alternatives in the African country.
Corruption. Arrest. Police brutality. What began on June 25, 2024 as a protest against the Kenyan government’s tax bill – also known as the GenZ Protest – has evolved, a year later, into something much deeper. It is no longer about rejecting a specific policy, but rather an entire system that allows, and even justifies, deaths like that of Albert Ojwang, a professor and blogger who used his social networks to denounce abuses of power. He was kidnapped from his parents’ house, taken to Nairobi and extrajudicially executed at police stations. His alleged crime? Having published “false information” about a senior government official. His murder, which took place a few days before the 2024 anniversary of the protests, sparked a new wave of popular outrage. And the streets were filled with young people again. This time, the Kenya National Human Rights Commission documented multiple violations committed both by state security forces and by armed men hired by the Executive itself. 12 days later, during the commemoration of Saba Saba Day (a day that commemorates the protests that took place in 1990 to demand the return of multipartyism after the authoritarian period of Daniel Arap Moi), the protests left a total of 38 dead, among whom was Bridgit Njoki, a 12-year-old girl who was watching television at home. Njoki did not protest. He didn’t scream. This episode, reminiscent of Necropoliticsby Achille Mbembe, has turned the 2025 protests into a broader fight for dignity and social justice.
Throughout Kenya’s history, art has been more than a form of expression: it has been a refuge and a tool of resistance. But something has changed. Contemporary artivism has managed to connect generation Z, born in the digital age, who have found in the intersection between art and social networks a new way to channel their political struggle. Emerging and established artists have been key in the construction of a visual and sound narrative that not only denounces injustices, but also educates those who need it most in the values of the Constitution. In this way, artivism has acquired a central role; It is no longer just a way of saying what happens, but is used as a means for citizen empowerment. In slums and rural communities, artivists build bridges. They work for kiwake (‘ignite’, in Swahili) the spark of popular sovereignty, remembering that fundamental rights are not demanded, but exercised.
Three keys
Under the motto “Tribeless, leaderless, partyless”, the GenZ protests promise a liberating future. This is the generational difference that, according to several artivists, marks a before and after in the Kenyan political scene. On the one hand, the break with tribalism represents a decolonizing practice in itself, since it ends the principle of divide and rule(‘divide and conquer’) used by the British Empire and inherited by the Kenyan political class. On the other hand, the apparent rejection of political leaders and parties constitutes a call to the imagination of other possible worlds. This is the area of intervention of artivists and their transformative potential. Davis Tafari, creative director of the Itinerant Theater at the Dandora Community Justice Center (Nairobi), states that, in each piece, they try to create horizontal governance spaces and citizen participation mechanisms following the postulates of thinkers such as Paulo Freire, Bertolt Brecht or Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o.
Another difference that marks a generational leap in Kenyan artivism is the strategic use of social networks. Thanks to platforms such as X, Instagram, Facebook or TikTok, young people have been able to denounce police brutality and mobilize for causes that previously only reached a limited audience. Tags such as #JusticeForRex – in reference to the case of Rex Kanyike Masai, murdered by the police in the 2024 protests – have become symbols of the fight for social justice and democracy. In the same way, YouTube has allowed their voices to be amplified both inside and outside the country. Parts of spoken word (a form of oral poetry that can combine narrative, musicality and bodily expression) as Kilio Cha Haki, from Dorphanage, show the power of the art of storytelling. Combining poetry, music, photography and videos from the 2024 protests, Dorphanage calls for dignity, equity and change.
Lights, shadows and nuances
But social networks are also a double-edged sword. As followers grow, so does self-censorship. The need to protect oneself from possible retaliation both on and off the Internet has created a space full of uncertainty, anxiety and fear. Some of the artivists interviewed for this report expressed their reluctance to exhibit their work in galleries or shopping centers and recognized that many collaborations take place clandestinely. They try to find the balance between sharing their message and ensuring their own safety.
Furthermore, in this new framework a gender perspective clearly emerges that crosses and re-signifies contemporary artivism in Kenya. During the protests of 2024 and 2025, many women discovered that their political participation could become an experience of sexual violence. This strategy, designed to demobilize them, did not have the expected effect. As Noosim Naimasiah, a pan-African film director, academic and activist, points out, “women act politically with their bodies.” Although they are the ones who take the most risks when taking to the streets, many continue to participate in protests, sometimes accompanied by their children. Giving visibility to their stories thus becomes an act of artivism, a gesture that transforms their personal experiences into collective force. But for these stories to be told, women artivists need economic and social support, support that the Kenyan state does not provide. With one in three households headed by women, they are the ones who assume the majority of care and domestic tasks. For this reason, cooperatives and groups are emerging that provide them with a safe space to express their resilience and political commitment from a gender perspective. This is artivism by women and for women.
While GenZ artivism has managed to mobilize an increasingly isolated generation by adopting a global language, not everything is an act of rupture. The material conditions on which young artivists act are not new. Post-election violence in Kenya has been a constant since the 2007 elections. Even then, songs like Bahasha ya Ocampo They denounced the corruption of Mwai Kibaki’s government. Likewise, the popular song Yote Yawezekana bila Moisung in 1992 to show opposition to the regime of Daniel Arap Moi, resonates again against the current president, William Ruto. Similarly, acts such as the occupation of Parliament already had their precedent on May 19, 2013, when an attempt was made to occupy the Chamber following a proposal to increase the salaries and allowances of legislators. On that occasion, 221 coffins were burned in front of the doors of Parliament and pigs were transported – the protesters wanted to establish an analogy between animals and parliamentarians, whom they called MPigs – which became symbols of an emerging artivism. At that time, Boniface Mwangi, a Kenyan photojournalist and activist, stood out as one of the most visible figures of the movement.
Little is known about the future, and unless there are changes to the electoral calendar, the next presidential election will take place in 2027. Meanwhile, GenZ is already working on creating a new model of democratic governance based on a National Citizen Council.
These types of protests have become a global phenomenon, observed in the streets of Serbia, Uganda, Madagascar and Nepal. In light of these developments, Kenyan artivists call not only for local action, but also for international solidarity. For them, change begins in the collective imagination: “It is the ideas that will open new paths,” “If citizens lose the fear of imagining, leaders will lose their power.” For this reason, they insist on the importance of transnational collective action: «Fight for your country and for the generations to come, but also for the well-being of those who are fighting on the other side of the world. We are a global community. You are because we are. The enemy has no face or nationality. For Tafari, it is “poverty, corruption, bad government and imperialism.” In the same way, Dorphanage reminds us that “the fight begins with ourselves, but it is not limited to our own experience: it is not just our fight.”
