V. CASE STUDY: ARMED POLITICAL VIOLENCE ON THE COAST

Violence erupted on Kenya's coast on August 13, 1997, launching weeks of terror in what had been a quiet resort area. Using the cover of automatic guns wielded by outsiders, local raiders carrying traditional weapons attacked a police station and a police post at the ferry in Likoni, which connects Likoni to Mombasa island. The raiders killed six officers and stole more than forty guns, then proceeded to carry out a violent rampage in the area, burning market kiosks, office buildings, and killing and maiming people after identifying them as non-locals or people from "up-country." Many of their targets belonged to the Luo, Luhya, or Kikuyu communities, as well as the Kamba. Some two hundred raiders participated in the attack, by the raiders' own count. When security forces finally appeared the following morning, the raiders retreated to hiding places in the forests. From these bases, they launched more attacks in subsequent days and engaged in sporadic firefights with security forces. The violence continued for several weeks, with particularly bold attacks taking place again in September, before they subsided. Intermittent raids continued well into November 1997 and some raiders were active through December of the following year.

The impact of the violence was devastating. Statistics compiled by the police, which provide a conservative estimate, indicate that a total of 104 people were killed in the violence, at least 133 more were injured, hundreds of structures were damaged, and other property was damaged or stolen leading to large losses.83 Human rights groups estimate that, in addition to more than a hundred people killed, some 100,000 people were displaced. Furthermore, the Coast region's lucrative tourism trade came to a virtual stand-still overnight, and the country as a whole experienced a sharp downturn in tourism following the violence.

The methods employed in Rwanda's genocide were replicated on a much smaller but still deadly scale in Kenya. In Rwanda, politicians exploited ethnic divisions to preserve and expand their own power. They accused a group of "foreigners" of supporting the political opposition on the basis merely of similar ethnic identification. They mobilized supporters to carry out acts of targeted violence for which they granted them complete impunity. They used a party-basedyouth group, the Interahamwe militia, to carry out the first attacks and later created a paramilitary system of "civilian self-defense" where ordinary citizens were guided by political leaders and trained and armed by soldiers, former soldiers, and police.84

Although the central importance of firearms is often overlooked, the state-organized violence against Tutsi in Rwanda shows the deadly effect of joining firearms to political violence. Both before and during the genocide, killers were able to kill faster and more easily because they were armed with guns and grenades. After the genocide, bullet shells were found littering the ground at massacre sites. Soldiers, militia, or ordinary citizens who had gotten their firearms from the authorities launched the major massacres, each of which killed thousands of people. In the space of one hundred days, assailants slaughtered at least half a million persons. Assailants with firearms enjoyed an enormous advantage over their unarmed victims, in psychological as well as in real terms. So great was the terror created by firearms that those targeted were often paralyzed into inaction, leaving them easy prey for later waves of assailants who were armed only with machetes, clubs, or other home-made weapons. Used in this manner as an instrument of terror, guns contributed to deaths on an astounding scale in Rwanda.85 In the hands of the raiders in Kenya's Coast Province, they would contribute to shocking chaos and bloodshed.

Conditions in Coast Province in 1997 provided fertile ground for fomenting politically motivated ethnic violence. Life had long been harsh for the ethnic groups that were traditional inhabitants of the area. The indigenous Mijikenda people of the Coast (comprising the Digo, Giriama, and other ethnic groups) lived in poverty, surrounded by resort hotels catering to foreign and Kenyan tourists. The Digos, mostly concentrated south of Mombasa (in the area known as the South Coast), had disproportionately high rates of joblessness, landlessness, and illiteracy in comparison with members of non-local ethnic groups living in the same area, which included so-called up-country people (members of ethnic groups from Kenya's interior, generally viewed as opposition supporters) and residents of Araband Asian descent, many of whom had long family histories in the Coast region. Beach-front properties and other valuable land, including Mijikenda ancestral land, were in the hands of wealthy foreigners and politically connected Kenyans, some of whom allegedly obtained the deeds irregularly in a practice known as land-grabbing. Added to their anger over these inequities, many locals were upset over abuse suffered at the hands of police officers, whom they said arrested young men without cause, beat them, and demanded large, unaffordable bribes in order to release them.86

KANU politicians astutely turned local bitterness into political support for their party. As in other parts of Kenya, such as the Rift Valley, they rallied the local population around calls for majimbo, the federal system promising the return of land to the control of its pre-colonial inhabitants and that regions would gain greater autonomy vis-à-vis the central government (see above). The majimboist argument resonated well with the local population. As one indicator, Coast Province voted overwhelmingly for KANU in the 1992 elections.87 By emphasizing that the purging of non-local people would permit the indigenous Digos and other Mijikendas to attain all that was left behind, pro-majimbo KANU politicians helped make the up-country people residing among them, rather than their own leaders and the government, the focus of local anger.

Some members of the Digo community were keenly aware that one way to achieve majimbo was to use intimidation and violence to expel non-indigenous residents. This had been the lesson of the violence in parts of western Kenya that began in 1991, when majimbo was a lightning rod for politically instigated "ethnic" clashes in Rift Valley and neighboring provinces. This lesson had already been applied in the Coast region prior to 1997. In fact, in the early 1990s, as the Rift Valley violence was underway, a group of Digos attempted to use the same tactics on a smaller scale in the Likoni area.88

Speaking to Human Rights Watch, a Digo man who participated in the earlier Likoni violence said the attacks were part of a pro-majimbo strategy. He asserted that local Digo leaders organized area youth to take an oath to attack up-country residents and thus bring about majimbo, but that the recruits went wild after theoathing ceremony instead of waiting as instructed.89 Another raider referred to the earlier attacks, stating, "1997 wasn't the first time. In 1992 we were told the same thing-to chase the Luos away."90

In testimony to the Akiwumi Commission, a witness named Joseph Ochwangi Onyiego, a resident of the Matuga area of Kwale district, stated that at a November 1991 public meeting his local councillor, of the ruling KANU party, advocated majimbo and incited violence against up-country residents by warning that up-country people who supported the opposition in the upcoming election would be attacked as in Molo, Rift Valley Province, with "arrows in their backs."91

Local conditions in the Coast region had long been poor, but in 1997 the national political backdrop again helped set the stage for violence. Non-locals were expected to vote against KANU in elections in December of that year, when the party hoped to win back parliamentary seats it had lost to the opposition in the first multiparty election, held in 1992, as well as prevent further electoral losses and undermine support for opposition parties. Up-country voters were concentrated in areas KANU had lost in the 1992 election and that it wished to regain. KANU also needed to win at least 25 percent of the Coast Province vote as a whole to ensure the reelection of President Moi. In addition, at the national level political tensions were rising as opposition parties and civic groups criticized KANU over its intransigence on constitutional reform and organized large pro-reform rallies. Fourteen people were reported killed in violence at pro-reform rallies in July 1997, and further deaths followed in the first half of August.92 In Coast Province, a KANU politician allegedly threatened violence against pro-reform demonstrators.93

At the Akiwumi hearings, Onyiego stated that KANU laid the political groundwork for the 1997 violence. He said that KANU leaders strongly promoted majimbo in the Coast region and that this had the effect of stoking local anger and inciting violence against the up-country people, including in meetings held just priorto the Likoni attack. The witness said that on August 10, 1997, three days before the attack, he attended a public meeting held by KANU MP Boy Juma Boy (see below), who said he was campaigning for votes. Onyiego alleged that the Coast MP told those gathered that up-country residents were taking all the money from local jobs and tourism while local people were unemployed.94 Onyiego also testified that Boy explicitly called for majimbo, saying it was what the people from the Coast region wanted, as did other leaders at the meetings.95 Two local-level officials testified about public meetings Boy held in Onyiego's area in July 1997 (Onyiego had spoken of August) and both denied that there was incitement at them.96 Boy, who also testified as to the allegations, strongly rejected Onyiego's testimony.97

When the Likoni violence broke out, it emerged that "[i]n recent months several ruling party politicians have exhorted Mombasans to force outside groups back up country."98 At the Akiwumi hearings, a police officer said he received complaints prior to August 1997 that Boy had incited local residents against their up-country neighbors.99 A second policeman testified that an informer who attended oathing ceremonies in April 1997 said he had seen Boy, together with KANU MP colleague Kassim Mwamzandi, at the oathing site in the area north of Mombasa known as the North Coast.100 According to the police officer, the local organizer of the oathing ceremonies admitted his role and explained to police thatthe oath was to motivate local men to fight for land.101 Boy, for his part, vehemently denied that he had been present at the oathing site in 1997.102

Allegations of the use of inflammatory rhetoric went back even further. In a November 1994 incident described in the press, Mwamzandi reportedly threatened that he would "order my people to demolish [the market kiosks of up-country people] immediately" and fellow MP Boy reportedly warned non-indigenous residents of the Coast that "danger is looming."103 A police officer who testified before the Akiwumi Commission indicated that in her opinion the statements constituted "a summons of war," yet no action was taken against the two politicians or the then-provincial commissioner (holder of the top Coast Province administration position), who presided over the meeting.104 Boy denied that he had ever incited indigenous groups against up-country residents.105

The young Digo men who were recruited to join the Coast raiders in 1997 told Human Rights Watch that their primary motivation was obtaining access to their ancestral lands, property, and jobs. They agreed to use violence to expel up-country residents because-having been inculcated with the politically charged rhetoric of majimbo-they strongly believed such acts were justified and necessary for the advancement of themselves and their community. Even though they were aware that KANU politicians in the Coast region promoted majimbo, the raiders made clear that they did not pursue a strategy of violent expulsion in order to improve the party's electoral prospects. Afterwards, however, when they were discarded and abandoned by KANU, the realization sank in that they and their cause had been manipulated to serve the interests of KANU in the run-up to the elections without any real concern for the welfare of the Digo people.

The first-hand testimonies of the raiders provide important insights into state involvement in the Coast violence. Together with sworn testimony given before the Akiwumi Commission, the testimonies of the raiders make clear that-at a minimum-KANU politicians and government officials took a number of steps to facilitate the raiders' activities and to protect them from being held accountable for their actions. In addition, the raiders' testimonies suggest that the involvement ofpoliticians may have been much deeper. Several raiders asserted that people identified as KANU MPs, candidates, and activists visited the raiders and met with their commanders and a spiritual leader who served as a key advisor. The raiders alleged that some of these politicians delivered food, money-even guns, according to one raider-and otherwise supported their cause. Looking back at the events in 1997, the raiders have since come to believe that top Coast Province political leaders, working with local interlocutors, orchestrated the events from behind the scenes to benefit the government of President Moi. This interpretation also accords with other testimonies suggesting that prominent KANU politicians were involved in the plot to spark violence in Coast Province. The implicated politicians, for their part, uniformly deny sponsoring the raiders. In most cases, they reject claims that they visited the raiders, and others provide alternative explanations for the assistance they provided, often indirectly, to raiders.

The names of several politicians feature repeatedly in the testimonies given at the Akiwumi Commission on the Coast Province violence. They are, in alphabetical order:

Boy Juma Boy: The MP for Matuga (KANU) at the time of the raids and also Chief Whip for the party in parliament. Later in 1997 Boy lost the KANU nomination to another candidate, Suleiman Kamole.

Suleiman Kamole (or Kamolleh): A candidate for parliament on the KANU ticket in 1997. In December that year he was elected MP for Matuga, the seat previously held by Boy.

Emmanuel Karisa Maitha: A KANU politician at the time of the violence. He defected to the opposition Democratic Party after losing the KANU primary in November 1997 and won the race for MP for Kisauni the following month. He ran as the KANU candidate for the Kisauni MP seat in the previous general election, in 1992.

Mwalimu Masoud Mwahima: A KANU councillor and also KANU chairman for Likoni in 1997. Mwahima later became Mombasa's deputy mayor and then mayor, a position he holds as of early 2002.

Kassim Mwamzandi: MP for Msambweni (KANU) and an assistant minister at the time of the Likoni raid in mid-1997. He hoped to be reelected, but was defeated for the KANU nomination in late 1997.

Rashid Sajjad: The KANU campaign coordinator for Coast Province forthe 1997 elections. He also served as a nominated (appointed, rather than elected) MP for KANU and an assistant minister in the Moi government. As of this writing he remains an MP and government assistant minister.

Suleiman Rashid Shakombo: A KANU candidate for the MP seat for Likoni. After losing the KANU nomination for the seat to another candidate, he defected to the newly formed Shirikisho Party of Kenya (SPK) in November 1997. Shakombo ran for parliament on the SPK ticket and won in the general election, becoming MP.

KANU Allies Recruit Raiders "for a Political Mission"

In the first quarter of 1997, organizers of the violence began a clandestine recruiting campaign among the area's indigenous population. Young men in their twenties and thirties were approached by local leaders, invited to take part in violent attacks, and promised rewards for their participation. South of Mombasa, for example, an influential local businessman rounded up young men, told them they would receive training to enable them to drive out the up-country people, and promised them he would help them get the houses and jobs left behind. He also gave each of the recruits, a group of some twenty-five young men, some money (Ksh.500 or $8.50) and transported them to the training camp.106

This businessman allegedly coordinated recruitment in the Likoni area with a councillor who also served as the KANU chairman in that area, Mwalimu Masoud Mwahima, whom raiders who defected said recruited them and who was otherwise alleged to have supported the raiders' activities. Mwahima, who later became Mombasa's deputy mayor and eventually mayor, strenuously denied the charges, saying he had no prior knowledge of the planned raids and was not involved in the violence.107

Other local-level politicians participated in the recruitment effort. Near the border with Tanzania, for example, an area councillor called groups of young men together and encouraged them to join efforts to chase away the up-country people,in return for which they would each be given a house.108 A councillor in a different area was also alleged to have actively recruited young men to join the raiders and otherwise to have participated in the organization of the violence.109

One raider, a veteran of the 1992 Likoni violence, joined of his own initiative after becoming frustrated that KANU was not able to do more to address landlessness in the area. In 1997, he traveled as far as the North Coast town of Malindi to attract recruits and prepare the ground for a new round of violence. He sought in particular to recruit men who had previously served in the military or police, and also reached out to active-duty Digo servicemen based in the area. He said: "We wanted just a hundred key people, strong ones. [...] When we were planning, we sent message to Digos and other Mijikenda-our brothers-in the barracks who were still serving with the government. We called those serving near home and they got oathed."110

This raider claimed to have high-level KANU contacts, saying he had at least two powerful friends among KANU politicians in Coast Province. He said an MP had earlier arranged for him to be released on bond (and paid the bond) after the young man was arrested and charged with trespassing for illegally occupying land owned by an up-country farmer. The same KANU leader encouraged the young man to go back and continue to illegally farm on that land. In addition, the raider said he had helped another important KANU friend get elected to a parliamentary seat. He stated, "I have opened doors for these politicians to get where they are, and now they forget me."111

Beyond his own ties to the ruling party, the veteran raider mentioned other ways in which the raiders' recruitment drive was associated with KANU. He said that he approached young men whom he knew had taken part in the United Muslims of Africa (UMA), a group closely linked to KANU that was known for violence in the Coast region (see above), and successfully recruited them to join the raiders' effort. He added that Juma Bempa, a lead organizer who was to become the raiders' military leader, had political ties to KANU: "Bempa privately met with politicians before the attack," but "[i]t was a secret. [...] After the 1992 clashes, Bempa tried to be a councillor for Likoni on the KANU ticket, and in 1997 it [the violence] was his plan. He told us he was addressing people in a secret way."112

Much of the recruitment happened by word of mouth, drawing on the anger of local young men over their poverty, unemployment, landlessness, and poor educational opportunities, and the prevalent sentiment that up-country people were to blame. Rumors quickly circulated among the Digo community of the South Coast that something was afoot, and that men were receiving basic military training. Hearing that a local traditional healer named Swaleh Salim bin Alfan was holding oathing ceremonies and encouraging willing recruits to attend, many went to his house to volunteer.113 As one recruit stated, "Recruitment was easy because people were talking anyway. The time was ripe for people to stand up. Word spread by word of mouth that to be involved you should go to Swaleh's house."114 At least one young man from the area near Alfan's home said he was recruited directly by the spiritual leader.115

It is clear from testimonies that there was a strong political dimension to the recruitment campaign. The new recruits, regardless of who first approached them, said that they were told the purpose of the raids was to bring majimbo to the Coast region. One individual who was recruited to join the raiders, but did not take part in the violence, stated: "The people were told that this effort was for majimbo. The song was always majimbo and majimbo only."116 A raider said that the area councillor who recruited him told him that "people wanted to start majimbo...[O]nce we chased away the up-country people we would have the area, we would take control."117 The veteran raider said the effort to organize violence in 1997 was a continuation of the attacks in 1992, when he had first been approached "for a political mission" to bring majimbo to the Coast.118

There was never any doubt that the recruits were being asked to use violent means and intimidation to achieve their goals. As one of them put it, "It was already known from the Rift Valley how to chase people out-by clashes-so it was copied. The idea was to organize the youth to evict up-country people."119 The same person explained, "If you say `majimbo,' you mean driving non-indigenouspeople out."

One raider said that, after he was recruited, he was told by the raiders' leaders that they would time their attacks to coincide with the dissolution of parliament, which marks the beginning of the presidential campaign. He added, "We were to attack in areas where up-country people are concentrated."120 No other raiders who spoke to Human Rights Watch said they were aware at the time that the planned violence was linked to the election campaign; however, two defected raiders who spoke to the Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC) indicated they knew there was a connection between their actions and the elections, saying they were given this information by their leaders.121

The raiders who spoke to Human Rights Watch were in their mid-twenties to late thirties. While they often referred to their fellow recruits as "the boys," they clarified that only adults were permitted to join them. They acknowledged, however, that many in the Digo community, including children, sympathized with their cause and sought to show support. In some cases, "small boys" (youths seventeen years old and younger) helped deliver food to the raiders, and local women and children at the sites where the raiders struck sometimes rallied behind the raiders during attacks. Contrary to the raiders' accounts, however, at least one police official declared that children as young as fourteen took part in attacks.122

Oathing: Using Tradition to Organize Political Violence

After being recruited to perpetrate violent attacks, the young men were taken to local spiritual leaders to undergo so-called ritual oathing in connection with the planned raids. The oathings greatly facilitated the military-style organization of the violence, in particular by bringing together the young men who had agreed to participate in the raids, motivating them to perform their task, binding them to a culturally important vow of secrecy and allegiance, and providing an opportunity for their leaders to organize them into units and convey orders.123 The oath committed the young men who took it to carry out the mission for which they had been recruited, and to keep this mission a secret, in exchange for which they werepromised supernatural protection from harm.124

One recruit who took the oath explained:

The oath is to make you strong and unafraid; it's for taking action. There were instructions about what not to do that day (sleep on a bed, for example). The oath protects you from being caught. Your enemy can't see you. It also protects you from getting hurt. It lasts until you do things that aren't allowed. You're only safe to do the action you're told to do. For this oath, the task was to evict the up-country people.125

Oathing ceremonies took place at various locations in the province for months leading up to the August 13th attack at Likoni and continued afterwards as new recruits joined. Almost all of the raiders who spoke to Human Rights Watch indicated that Alfan administered the oaths to them, and that he did so at his residence on the South Coast near the edge of the Kaya Bombo forest.126 In Digo belief, forests or "kayas" are home to spirits and therefore considered holy places.

The oath administered to the recruits was called a "kinu oath." From what the raiders described, the ceremony involves an overturned clay pot or "kinu." Those taking the oath form a line and are given small cuts in various places with razors, leaving scars that were still clearly visible two years later. Medicinal herbs are rubbed into the fresh cuts made on the skin. The oathing ceremony generally takes place under a baobab tree, which has special religious significance.127

Several raiders spoke of the oathing ceremony, and the powerful effect it had on them. In one raider's words:

At Mzee Swaleh's house there were about 170 men. We were put into groups according to where we were from [...]. Then we were all administered with an oath. Cuts were made on our tongue, our temple, the left hand at the edge of the little finger. Medicine was applied to our skin. We were given nothing to eat. There was a line of people and there were two people (Swaleh's assistants) administering the oaths one by one. Mzee Swaleh was watching seated. We were told that the up-country people had taken everything and that it was time to rise up against this unfairness. After taking the oath we felt agitated and strong. We wanted to take action immediately, but we were told to wait.128

On another occasion a raider described the night of his oathing:

In March 1997 I was approached by [Swaleh bin] Alfan who told me that we needed to get together to protect our rights. Around that time, I went to Swaleh's house and under the baobab tree at night I took an oath. There were about 200 people who were oathed one by one. We would be called under the tree to oath and then would leave and sit outside in the compound. The oathing went from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. It took about ten minutes a person. After the oath I felt strong. We were told to wait by Swaleh. "We will call you in August," he said, "and explain further." We were told to demand for our rights. We were told to get the up-country people out. We were told to wait because we don't have the weapons yet. We were divided into groups and told to wait until August.129

Swaleh bin Alfan denied that he had administered any oaths to raiders, telling Human Rights Watch, "What was said about me oathing raiders was a lie." He also rejected press accounts characterizing him as a "witchdoctor" and "medicineman." While stating that he had "special powers," he clarified, "I don't use them against people unless someone comes around to cause problems. I use my power to help people and not to inflict any injury."130

As the raiders explained, after the oathing ceremonies their leaders divided them into groups or units to receive further instruction. While hundreds of young men took the oath, not all joined their ranks. A large number were simply sympathizers who supported the raiders' cause but did not want to fight and therefore did not join the groups that were formed. Of those who were prepared tofight, some were told simply to wait, while the leaders ordered others to gather for informal military training. As one of the raiders stated, they were told only a hundred good fighters were required to be effective.131

Command Structure, Discipline, and Order

Following the successful recruitment and oathing campaigns, the raiders' leaders further extended the military model of organization to determine the overall structure of the newly-created force. A chain of command existed whereby a handful of ethnic Digo men conveyed orders to the raiders. The local leaders, sometimes called "group leaders," had taken a lead in the recruiting drive. Most of them had once served as members of the Kenyan armed forces or police. The small committee of leaders was headed by a dynamic ex-military man named Juma Bempa. They were joined by a group of highly trained and well-armed men described as "soldiers," whom the raiders also referred to as "outsiders" (see below). Together, the local leaders and these soldiers exercised military command over the raiders, with Bempa usually taking the lead and generally considered the overall military commander. The other local leaders and soldiers were responsible for training.132

As noted, those with prior military experience were especially sought-after recruits. Some recruits were active-duty members of the armed services. However, not all of those with Kenyan armed services experience were given a leadership role. Some were rank-and-file raiders.

The raiders interviewed agreed that Swaleh bin Alfan exercised significant responsibilities beyond his role as their spiritual leader. He carried out most of the oathing ceremonies on the South Coast, where the raiders were based, and maintained very close contact with the raiders' military leaders. In addition, Alfan offered instruction, advice, and material support (including food and money). Several raiders also indicated that Alfan was the interlocutor between the raiders' commanders and important KANU politicians whom they witnessed visiting him at his home and who they said provided food and other assistance, often via Alfan (see below).

One young man who said he did not take part in any attacks but who was recruited to join the raiders and had access to information because he lived near Alfan explained the hierarchy of power: "Bempa was the commander. He'd take instructions from the elders and then manage his boys. Actually, Swaleh was the senior elder, and was the master, so Bempa took instructions from him. Bempawould come to Swaleh's house every day during the daytime."133 He, like several other raiders, emphasized that Bempa's qualities made him well-suited to be the raider's military leader, adding that the decision was made by Alfan: "Bempa was selected as the leader because he was an ex-serviceman who was brave. He was hardcore. People liked him and the old man [Alfan] picked him as the commander."134 A raider who was an early recruit also asserted that Alfan had selected Bempa to be the raiders' military leader.135

In keeping with their military structure, the raiders took steps to ensure discipline and organization. For the sake of secrecy, they were not supposed to refer to their leaders or each other by name. The group leaders and Bempa, however, seemed less concerned about concealing their identity than the soldiers, and the recruits came to learn their names. Early recruits also explained that the leaders recorded the names of the raiders in a register and kept military and other records. Each of them was assigned a code name or number to conceal his identity. Their real names and the code given to them were copied into the register, described by one as "a black book with a hard cover and a red spine," that began to be used before the raids started.136 A different raider gave a more complete explanation. He said: "There was a book with our records. It was captured by the police [...] near Kaya Bombo. It had names, budgets, letters [...]. All our arrangements-how to budget for food and record of arms and [also listed] the numbers and names of all of us. [...] We also had papers with the names of people assigned for different operations."137

The police later recovered materials fitting that description. A police officer who viewed the materials said there were actually two books and that the first included entries from August 19 to September 11 and documented military information. It showed that there were 278 raiders at that time and provided a "force number" for each of them next to their names. It also indicated that Juma Bempa was the commanding officer and that the raiders were divided into different "companies" of fixed composition, and listed the dates of the training given to each group. The officer said the second book contained information of a more logistical nature and was recovered at the same time. She described it as including an attendance register, records of personnel matters (promotions and demotions, disciplinary actions), and a firearms register that detailed the number of guns, their serial numbers, and a log of who used them. According to her, the number of gunslisted matched the number stolen from the police. Finally, she said, the second book detailed the raiders' expenses on food and hospital treatment and included an unsent letter. She did not mention whether it contained information on the financing of the group, as would later be speculated.138

The then-head of criminal investigations for Coast Province (PCIO) was involved in the arrest of Swaleh bin Alfan and several others in an operation on August 15. He stated that at that time officers recovered a notebook and photographic negatives from one of the people arrested with Alfan. The notebook, according to his testimony, gave the names of 487 raiders and also listed their military targets and the number of raiders assigned to each operation. Photos printed from the negatives were thought to show raiders.139

The Participation of "Outsiders"

There has been much speculation as to the origin of the well-armed, highly trained soldiers who were described as outsiders. Several reports have suggested they might have been mercenaries from Rwanda or Uganda.140 Human Rights Watch was not able to establish the background of these men. The raiders' group clearly included Kenyans with prior military experience on whom they relied greatly, as well as some active duty members of the armed forces. The raiders, however, described one group of experienced fighters in different terms, as outsiders. In one case, a raider said that Bempa had told him the majority of the soldiers were foreigners, which he also believed to be true because of what he observed:

There were soldiers who would come for a few days at a time (about four days) to give training, then they'd shift to somewhere else. There were about fifty of them, some from Kenya, but most were from [abroad...]. Bempa would communicate with these people and he'd arrange for them to come to do the training. These soldiers would do more rigorous training, including exercising a lot (running and jumping) and using guns. They had their own guns, but I don't know where they got them. Bempa said that when the raid happens we should follow the instructionsof these soldiers, and the commanders, and that once we'd raided we too would get guns and also grenades. [...] I don't know how many of the soldiers were foreign. I just followed orders and didn't count the number to know for sure. I never spoke to them directly. I just took instructions from them. Some of the soldiers, the ones from Kenya, spoke in Swahili and the others I couldn't understand. The Kenyan soldiers would translate. Of the whole group, only a few soldiers could speak Swahili.141

The testimony of a second raider also supports the contention that this group was formed largely of non-locals, possibly not of Kenyan origin. Speaking separately, he described non-Swahili-speaking soldiers who would communicate orders via the local leaders; the latter could understand the soldiers, perhaps because they were more educated and spoke English.142 The outsiders, as both raiders explained, only took part in early operations and soon withdrew.

A third raider said that he had heard rumors about soldiers. He said, "We tried to ask Swaleh [bin Alfan] about the soldiers because he'd said he had some. He told us, `You're not alone.' But it was a deep secret between him and the top people."143 He added that he had heard that "the foreigners" were at another training site. Two raiders indicated they had never seen any outsiders and, while they were aware of such claims, were convinced all the raiders on the South Coast were Digos.144 This view accorded with that of the authorities, who rejected claims that external actors participated in the fighting.145

The Raider's Arsenal

The raiders' leaders placed great importance on the acquisition of firearms. From the beginning, they had some guns at hand.146 The top military leader, Bempa, always carried two pistols on his belt and the outsiders had more sophisticated weapons. According to one raider, "[e]ach of the soldiers had his gun. They were AK-47s and some had machine guns. One kind was shorter (about thesize of my forearm) and had a curved magazine and the other one was longer and fired rat-tat-tat."147 Another raider said he only saw about ten guns before the attack, saying they were carried only by the outsiders and that "[t]he guns had a small wooden part and a banana-shaped magazine."148 His description is consistent with that of several models of the Kalashnikov assault rifle, including the original AK-47 design and various modifications to it.

But the raiders wanted more guns to enable them to carry out coordinated attacks on up-country people, and devised ways to obtain them. One raider said:

We needed money and arms to train people. We had to grab the arms from police in the Likoni area. We killed about three police officers [on patrol in the area] and took their guns. We got three G3s, a pistol revolver, and an AK [Kalashnikov assault rifle]. We got the AK from another person as a contribution. He wanted to join and support the group, but he didn't. He was an ex-Air Force soldier. He didn't want to be known. [...] When we were training, someone came and dropped a box of 10,000 bullets for G3 guns. They just dropped off the box and left some G3s.149

Police officers confirmed that police were attacked and their weapons taken, and one said he learned that a few stolen weapons (both rifles and pistols) were in the hands of the raiders before they attacked the Likoni police station.150

One raider asserted that politicians supplied a few additional guns before the Likoni attack.151 Another raider said that when they attacked Likoni, "we had been waiting for arms to come from Nairobi, but they hadn't."152 The raiders also attempted at the time to buy guns from Somalia, one said, but were not successful.153

The importance of guns should not be underestimated. In the attack at Likoni,raiders armed with guns stood back and provided cover as others raided the police station and ferry police post. The same approach was used elsewhere, using the additional weapons stolen from the Likoni police station. This tactic allowed a relatively small number of raiders to wreak havoc in populated areas. The raiders' victims had little protection against such well-armed attackers. Similarly, the raiders' impressive fire power intimidated Kenyan security forces who were reluctant to pursue them. According to one of the raiders, their spiritual leader understood the difference even a few guns would make: "[Alfan] said what matters most is to acquire arms and go to the areas dominated by up-country people."154

Training

In preparation for the well-coordinated operations they would later conduct, the raiders underwent training at several sites around Coast Province. In some cases, farms that received government assistance to employ youth, called youth development projects, were used as a cover for the raiders' activities, and the raiders described using two such sites for training sessions that lasted two weeks.155 In both locations, raiders were taught "how to shoot, how to dismantle a gun, how to clean it, how to load it" and undertook rudimentary exercises with sticks and batons.156 The raiders said these locations were only used for training and they returned home to sleep. One of the raiders said he received rudimentary training from the local leaders, but that the outsiders provided "more rigorous training," especially in the use of guns.157

In addition to these training sites, one raider described a mobile camp that was used before the raids began. It was located in the Kiteje area in Kwale district. There, the raiders were issued blankets and slept in canvas tents, and the outsiders would lead them in training exercises. The raider who said he was based at this camp explained that, although he did not visit any other training sites, the group leaders made a point to say that young men elsewhere were also preparing for the raids.158

The Likoni Attack

The organizers of the raids had been carefully preparing for months to carry out violent attacks and, when the raids began on August 13, many assumed that date had been selected in advance by the group leaders. The group leaders, according to the raiders, kept secret the date of the planned attack, but the violence was sparked earlier than intended after they grew worried that some of their associates had been arrested and ordered the raiders to act.159 One raider said Alfan gave the order to start the raids.160

Raiders who participated in the Likoni attack described an operation executed with military precision.161 On the evening of August 13, the group leaders sent word to their recruits to prepare for an attack at 8:30 that night. The order went out by 4 p.m., and by 7 p.m. the raiders left their home areas for Likoni. According to one raider who was there that night, a politician sent a lorry that was used to transport the group leaders and outsiders, together with some of the raiders, to the outskirts of Likoni. From there they continued on foot. Another raider said he arrived on foot with others.

Once in Likoni, the raiders were divided into two groups, with one group instructed to go to the police station and the other sent to the ferry police post. These were the bases for local security personnel who could have interfered with the raiders' attacks on up-country residents. Moreover, the police station housed a store of needed firearms, and the ferry was of strategic importance as the transportation link to Mombasa island, where further security personnel were based. The raiders clearly felt animosity toward the police, whom they viewed as up-country-dominated and highly abusive of their community, and this presumably also contributed to the selection of their initial target.

Following orders, the raiders waited until 8:30 p.m. to launch a simultaneous attack. In both locations, the raiders carrying guns stayed at a distance while the others, armed with hidden knives and other traditional weapons, approached the police. As one raider explained, "When we raided Likoni, those with the guns (the soldiers) weren't in the front lines. We pretended like we were bringing someone [a thief] in to be arrested and then we attacked and got the guns."162 Police officialshave confirmed that the raiders stole forty-three G3 rifles that night, along with a handful of other firearms and approximately 1,500 rounds of ammunition.163

At the police station in particular, the raid was executed with planning and coordination. A raider who was there said twenty-seven men took part in the operation.164 He explained that the attackers were divided into smaller groups, with ten raiders sent to the area chief's nearby office, ten deployed to surround the fence outside, and seven sent inside the police station. Those who entered the station attacked the police with machetes and bows and arrows. Using these traditional weapons, they killed three police officers. They also released all the prisoners in jail, stole a police radio (in addition to robbing the armory), and proceeded to set fire to the police station, adjacent administration offices, and nearby homes. When some police officers tried to shoot at them, the raiders with guns returned fire. At the ferry police post, the raiders used a similar approach. They surrounded and killed two policemen while others stood back holding guns and also killed another police officer as they left the area. A police officer who survived the attack stated, "The raiders wanted to acquire firearms and to disable us in order to carry out their mission."165 Police witnesses said they only saw their attackers wield bows and arrows and other traditional weapons.166

Next, the raiders went on an all-night rampage around Likoni. A raider said, "After we got the guns, we went and attacked the non-local people-killing, burning, chasing people."167 He indicated that they targeted people from up-country, going house by house. They checked to see if someone was Digo by calling out a greeting and waiting to see if they answered in the Digo language. They brutally attacked and maimed their victims using machetes and other crude instruments. One raider defected later that night because he was disturbed by the violence, saying: "People did things at Likoni that I did not agree with. They entered people's houses and killed people in cold blood."168

Throughout the night the raiders carried out attacks, including burning local administration buildings and market kiosks largely operated by up-country vendors, without interference from security forces. As one raider put it, "We dominated thearea for eight hours until the morning."169 The response by the government's security forces was slow and ineffectual. On the night of the Likoni raid, police and paramilitary units of the General Service Unit (GSU) were very slow to appear at the scene. When security forces finally began to appear on the morning of August 14, the raiders withdrew into hiding places on the South Coast, particularly the Kaya Bombo forest and the Similani caves. (For this reason, they became known as the Kaya Bombo raiders.) In addition to the six slain police officers, the raiders killed at least six other people that evening and various others were maimed or otherwise injured. In a brutal pattern that was repeated for weeks, most of the casualties were victims of multiple wounds caused by machetes or knives.

The Raiders Regroup

Other than sporadic firefights with government security forces, who mostly avoided encounters with the well-armed raiders, little stood in the way of the raiders. To the contrary, the virtual security vacuum in the wake of the Likoni attack, described in full below, permitted them to regroup in order to carry out further well-organized attacks. Of the estimated two hundred people who had participated in the August 13 attack at Likoni, only seventy-three remained, according to one raider, and their composition changed significantly. The soldiers whom some raiders had described as outsiders withdrew and were not involved in subsequent attacks. Apparently they had fulfilled their purpose. As one raider explained, "We now had weapons so we didn't need the soldiers, and we'd be sent out on raids without them."170

The raiders added and trained new recruits. As one put it, "We were fighting with the GSU and training our men at the same time."171 The new recruits were mostly sympathizers and hangers-on, however, rather than experienced fighters. One raider decided to join the day following the Likoni raid when a group of some forty armed raiders passed through his area on its way to the Kaya Bombo forest. He explained that young boys aged twelve to seventeen years old attempted to join as well but were sent home.172 Another raider pointed out that some active-duty military men from navy and army barracks joined them. He said, "When the government called in the army, some Mijikenda helped us and gave arms or ranaway [deserted or took unauthorized leave] from the army."173

The raiders conceived a uniform and had twenty-four of them made to be worn during the attacks. As described by several raiders and witnesses, the uniform consisted of a black cape or robe with two bands of fabric, one red and one white, crossing the chest in an "X" pattern and also featured a star and crescent moon at the front and, at least in some cases, the Islamic saying "There is No God but Allah" (symbolizing the mix of Muslim and animist faith among the Digo raiders). These uniforms were generally worn by the more prominent raiders, particularly those Digos who had significant military experience. As explained by one raider, they were believed to afford special protection: "When you are led by people wearing these robes, you cannot be seen by your enemy and you are protected by the spirits."174 While witnesses also reported that the raiders wore shorts and red headbands and, some said, camouflage, the raiders themselves only spoke of wearing the black robe or street clothes with a hood to hide their faces and did not clarify whether the servicemen among their ranks might have worn camouflage. They also told of painting slogans and distributing leaflets threatening up-country residents. One widely-circulated leaflet read, "The time has come for us original inhabitants of the coast to claim what is rightly ours. We must remove these invaders from our land."175

The Raids Continue

The raiders launched further raids from the hideouts that served as their new base of operations. These included attacks in several area towns and villages in mid-August that added to the mounting death toll. The attackers in front invariably carried firearms, making the slaughter possible. The raiders who spoke to Human Rights Watch participated in these raids, as well as attacks into September in which they killed and maimed further victims. Several attacks took place in or near Ukunda, most notably two attacks in resort areas: a September 5 attack at Shelly Beach and a September 11 raid on Ukunda that ended with a firefight at Diani Beach.

A witness described the September 11 raid at Ukunda, which had begun with an attack on the police station, in which the raiders quickly overpowered police:

I saw a large crowd of people coming from the direction of the police station toward the post office; some of them were running,and I heard gunshots from the direction of the police station, as if there was an exchange of fire. Then everyone was running, including old men, women, and children. These were the first gunshots I have heard in the entire period that I have lived in this area. [My friend] said: "These are the raiders from the Kaya Bombo. Let's run!" At first I didn't believe him. [...] We heard people shouting: "They're coming on the old road!" so I went to check it out.176

There were some fifty raiders, he said, some of them wearing the robe uniform, and the way they walked made clear they had had military training:

They were taking proper cover. Some in the front were carrying guns, about eleven guys. They were covering each other, holding their guns up and firing in the air. They were AKs. I know these guns. I used to handle them when I was in the military. (The police have G3s.) There was a commander among them who was carrying a radio in one hand and a stick in the other (the stick is about one meter long and is used by police and army officers); I did not see if he had a gun.177

As the raiders came closer, he saw that the men behind the first group of raiders were carrying machetes and bows and arrows, waving to onlookers and looting the kiosks along the road. These men were followed by some local women and children, who danced in apparent celebration. The commander called out in Swahili to local Digo residents, telling them they were not in danger and should feel free to take part in the looting of the kiosks. Once the raiders reached the center of town, the raid turned violent. The commander, pointing at certain businesses with his stick, began instructing his men to burn them down, which they did. At about the same time, the raiders opened fire on the post office, where some residents were hiding. As the crowd ran from the raiders, the witness's friend was shot and fell dead. From a distance, the witness saw the raiders proceed south down the main road, moving slowly and burning kiosks along the way. He said he later learned that the security forces arrived about an hour after the raiders first appeared inUkunda, and fifteen minutes after they had left the area.178

The vast majority of attacks, particularly well-organized ones, were concentrated in the Likoni-Kwale area. These were also the most brutal attacks, often resulting in deaths or seriously injured by gruesome means. Many victims, once identified as up-country residents from their identity cards or because they did not speak the Digo language, were repeatedly stabbed with knives, slashed with machetes, or otherwise maimed. Residents of the area expressed shock at the brutality of the attacks, given that the area had previously been peaceful and that the different ethnic communities had lived together in relative harmony for generations.179

The raiders also said they killed several police officers during operations and took their guns. While some raiders remained active with the force for weeks, those interviewed disavowed attacks that primarily involved looting as well as the burning of market kiosks in an August 19 incident in Malindi, on the North Coast. They attributed such attacks instead to disaffected local people who took advantage of the confusion, lax security, and heightened ethnic tensions to settle scores or rob their neighbors. They did not touch on the subject of sexual violence, in particular allegations of rape of up-country women by raiders, which surfaced mostly in the later phases of the violence.180

The raiders, from the time they began organizing for violence until long after they attacked the Likoni police station, were able to operate in a virtual security vacuum. No efforts were made to stop the raiders before the raids were launched, despite numerous advance warnings. Once the violence began, government security forces-inclusive of the police, paramilitary GSU, and army and navy troops-did not mount serious security operations directed against the raiders and instead took a number of steps that undermined their effective pursuit. In addition, they failed to provide adequate protection to the victims of the targeted raids and were responsible for a number of serious human rights abuses, including arbitrary arrests and torture. The response of the government's security forces to the violence was so lax as to raise widespread suspicions of government complicity in the attacks.

Turning a Blind Eye

As the raiders on the South Coast were preparing for their first attack, numerous Kenyan authorities at different levels were informed of serious security problems and failed to take action. As concluded in a mid-September 1997 police report on the violence, prepared by the deputy director of the Criminal Investigations Department following a visit to Coast Province: "It is apparent that the initial launching of the clashes and period it started was known to the security agencies within the area."181 Authorities in Nairobi were also warned of security threats in the area.

The fact that government officials had been forewarned and failed to act on the information became public knowledge largely because of the efforts of a private citizen, Roshanali Karmali Pradhan (known as "Jimmy"). Prior to the August raid Pradhan repeatedly informed authorities at the local, district, and provincial level in writing about suspicious activities conducted by groups of young men on his farm near the Likoni-Kwale border. After a May 15, 1997, letter to the local chief, copied to a number of area security officials, went unanswered, Prahdan wrote to the Likoni police chief on August 4 stating that, "a gang of 15-20 men have made a base at one boundary of my farm lying on the Mombasa Kwale boundary. These men are armed with guns and other weapons. [...] They gather there every Friday and terrorsies [sic] the area over the weekend." Again, the letter was copied to other security and administration officials. Those to whom at least one of Pradhan's letters were addressed or copied included the provincial commissioner (PC), the provincial police officer (PPO), the provincial criminal investigations officer (PCIO), the district commissioner (DC) of Kwale, the district officer (DO) of Matuga, the heads of the three police stations (Likoni, Kwale, and Diani), and the chief of his area.182

The information supplied by Pradhan was later supplemented by the testimony to the Akiwumi Commission of several police officials, ranging from local to provincial level and particularly intelligence officials, who made clear that they were aware of oathing and training activities in the Likoni-Kwale area months before the August 13 raid. For example, the most senior intelligence official at theprovincial level (the provincial security intelligence officer or PSIO) testified that as early as May 1997 he received reports that a large group of young men had stolen several guns from police and were planning to disrupt the elections in order to bring majimbo to the Coast region. One report predicted an attack by hundreds of Digo youths on the Likoni police station and the homes of up-country residents. The specific date given for that attack (May 18, 1997) ultimately proved incorrect, but later intelligence reports included a new warning in July 1997, less than a month before the August 1997 attack, that the Likoni police station would be burned down, as well as information that the group of youths included many active-duty and former servicemen. Despite having all this information at hand, the PSIO's provincial security counterparts said he never shared it with them, contradicting his testimony. Instead, over the months prior to the attack the PSIO's only confirmed action was to notify his superiors in Nairobi and order further investigations from his subordinates, and he said he also instructed police stations to be on alert. He claimed there was nothing else he could do since "it was not known when the attack would take place."183

One case from Kwale helps illustrate the complacency exhibited. The district criminal investigations officer (DCIO), already aware of reports that Muslim youths and ex-servicemen intended to take part in forthcoming attacks on police targets to steal weapons and ammunition, investigated claims that a local acrobatic troupe had undergone military training in Uganda. His mid-July report to the PCIO read in part: "The troupe would evidently be part of the trained Mercenaries earmarked for [that] job."184 Despite earlier reports to him by a different officer about plans to use violence to drive away up-country people, the PCIO opted to leave the matter of the training in the hands of junior intelligence personnel, who were to conduct further inquiries.185

The director of Kenya's National Security Intelligence Service (previously known as the Security Intelligence Department) at the time testified before the Akiwumi Commission that from about May 1997 he was informed of securitythreats in Coast Province, which were conveyed to him by his juniors via standard reporting channels. He noted that he informed the Police Commissioner, as well as the top government official responsible for internal security, by phone, of the reports from Coast Province, but that the matter was still under investigation when the raiders struck on August 13, 1997.186

Thus the widely diffused warnings about upcoming attacks in Coast Province did not lead to effective action to prevent the raids. The Likoni police station chief, who allegedly had been informed of the threat against his station, took no extra precautions and no additional personnel were deployed. He also left early the day of the attack, raising further suspicions. In one of only a handful of disciplinary actions following the Likoni raid, the station chief was transferred and later dismissed from the police force for negligence and disobeying orders.187

Various officials testified that their colleagues who had been forewarned did not inform them of reports of impending violence, and suspicions that some officials may have sought to conceal what they knew came to the fore during police investigations launched after the raid. In several cases, police witnesses charged that others had engaged in a cover-up. The police officer sent from Nairobi to investigate the clashes gave an example of the deception, saying top Coast Province security officials acted to keep from him information about advance warnings, such as the letters from Jimmy Pradhan which they had disregarded. This officer was reassigned and taken off the case, and his team, under the direction of a new provincial criminal investigations chief, took over the investigation.188

The September 1997 police report concluded: "[T]he Provincial Administration, the Police, as well as the Security Intelligence had this vital information well in advance but failed to co-ordinate and act upon it in good time as was expected."189 The raiders said police inaction made it possible for them to conduct their planning in peace. One said: "We had to keep our activities secret. Messages were sent to senior police [by others], but they took no action. [...] Noone came and disturbed us at all."190

Inaction Against Perpetrators

From the time the Likoni raid was launched on August 13, and for weeks thereafter, the government's poor security response made the deadly chaos possible. On the night of the first raid at the Likoni police station, personnel at a Kenyan Navy base located two kilometers from the scene of the raiders' attack did not respond, although the shots would have been audible. GSU units and police reinforcements arrived at Likoni by ferry from Mombasa several hours after the raiders attacked the police station and police post. They said they were unable to cross for hours because raiders shot at the ferry.191

The Kenyan military was briefly called to assist in the security operation, but army and navy personnel were both withdrawn within a matter of a few days. Officials stated that they involved the military in the operation at first because they believed the violence was perpetrated by an external force from another country but called them off when they decided that it was an internal matter.192

Accounts of skirmishes between security forces and the raiders indicate that they were well-matched or that the raiders may have had a military advantage. This demonstrates both the preparation and coordination of the raiders, but also the dismal failings of the state security operation. In one early case, a group of ten policemen was making its way to join up with other security forces in the Kaya Bombo forest area when a group of raiders appeared and the police commander, at the sight of them, ran away leaving his men behind, later claiming that his forces were outnumbered and outgunned. In another instance, officials testified that security forces totaling fifty men, including a platoon of thirty-five army soldiers and operating under army command, engaged the raiders in a heavy exchange of gunfire, but were overpowered and were forced to withdraw. Apparently describing the same incident, officials testified that reinforcements were not deployed because it was late afternoon and the army did not want to risk fighting at night. Similarly, a raider told how raiders and GSU personnel engaged in an armed skirmish outsideKaya Bombo forest until "the GSU finally got scared and left."193

The ineptitude of the security response immediately following the Likoni raid might be attributed to the confusion of the early days, but this pattern persisted even when the security operation was in full swing, leading to suspicions that the failings of the security forces were deliberate. When security forces came across the raiders, they often failed to engage them, chose not to pursue them as the raiders escaped, and even fled themselves to avoid an armed confrontation. For example, Jimmy Pradhan was at his farm with a government security escort when they saw a group of armed raiders at one end of his farm. Together with security forces who were patrolling the area, there were more than thirty fully armed security men, he said, but the GSU commander rejected requests to order an immediate attack and instead called for a helicopter, which took an hour to arrive, to follow the raiders. "[N]o attempt was made to apprehend or engage them," Pradhan stated.194

The raiders themselves indicated that they could easily hide from the security forces and, when they were discovered, scare them off by firing at them, and some became suspicious of the government's security operation. One stated:

If the government would have wanted to destroy us they could have done it because they have so much power. We wondered how the government was performing their [sic] duty because we'd see the people come and then they'd go away. We don't know who was ordering this. If they'd been told we'd taken this route, they'd take another. At first, they brought the Kenyan Army and everybody to fight us but later they learned the situation and just let us be. [...] We don't know why they didn't come after us. But later I came to realize that we were used for political reasons. I realized this was being planned during [voter] registration.195

In addition, a number of top Coast Province security personnel were suddenlyreplaced in September, in the middle of the security operation, and these sudden changes further impeded efforts to halt the raiders. The raiders also noticed the difference:

[T]he head [security] people were transferred immediately after the attack and that really helped us. The new people didn't know their way around. They sent new people from remote places. We took advantage of this. [...] After the Intelligence body was transferred, everything changed. Even us, we wondered why these people instead of coming to us went to attack innocent people, not coming to where we were.196

The raider speculated that the raiders' political contacts had arranged this change on their behalf.

Several police officials indicated that transportation and communication difficulties in the early days, as well as a lack of reinforcements and lack of cooperation from local administration officials, presented difficulties. Others, however, pointed to more serious problems, saying their operations were poorly managed and suffered from "a disjointed command and lack of proper coordination," as well as in-fighting among members of the provincial security committee (PSC), and that security forces failed to act on timely tips about where the raiders and the stolen guns could be found.197

Then-provincial police chief Francis Gichuki was singled out for blame by several of his former colleagues, who accused him of acting to undermine the government security operations. Officials testified, for example, that he blocked joint operations, redirected police forces to less important areas, transferred personnel, and refused to cooperate with other top security officials. When Gichuki was suddenly transferred in September 1997 without public explanation, as were other members of his team, some observers stated it was because he had been slow to act, while Gichuki's defenders argued that he was replaced as PPO in retaliation for the arrest of prominent ruling party politicians.198

Gichuki was keenly aware of a political dimension to the violence. Oneofficial testified that the PPO told him, "The whole issue regarding the raiders is political and I do not want to be involved."199 Gichuki himself testified that he came to strongly believe that the violence was politically motivated. He complained in particular of extensive political interference in security operations, described below. He stated that he had a great deal of information on the violence, but would only provide it if a closed session were to be arranged:

[There] are some names I cannot give in public. Whatever you say here appears in the newspapers the following morning. The people in Nairobi know me and they will say that I told you everything. I am an ex-Government servant and I cannot say everything here. I have been in the system. This is a political government and I cannot come saying everything here. Some of the things are confidential.200

Lack of Protection for the Victims

The government's failure to mount an adequate security response meant the up-country people forced to flee by the violence were unable to return. Human rights groups estimated that the violence, in which at least one hundred people were killed, also resulted in the displacement of over 100,000 people. Up to four thousand sought refuge in the Likoni Catholic Church, but police protection there was inadequate, despite requests for greater security, and armed raiders attacked the church compound on August 22, killing two people. Moreover, schools had to be closed due to persistent insecurity and lack of police protection.201

Furthermore, security forces failed to deploy to areas where the raiders had struck and some areas, including Likoni itself, were subsequently the subject of repeated attacks and looting. For example, raiders armed with at least one gun attacked the farm owned by Jimmy Pradhan on August 14, killing an up-country employee, causing extensive property damage, and stealing some farm animals. Pradhan made repeated requests for police action over the course of several months,which were not met. He later filed a lawsuit against the Kenyan government for damages resulting from this raid and continued looting that police forces failed to prevent-even, as noted above, when they witnessed the raiders on his property.202

After almost a month of confusion and inaction following the Likoni raid, the government announced that it had prepared a security plan to halt the violence and protect civilians. Operation orders issued in mid-September show that security forces at that point totaled 1,080 people, including police personnel from throughout the area, paramilitary forces, members of specialized security units, and others.203 (The government never lived up to an early promise to deploy 20,000 security personnel to quell the violence.)

It was not until several weeks later, however, that the government began to flush out the raiders from their hideouts. In a security operation in early November, the police ousted raiders from a den in the Similani caves, reported to have housed as many as thirty-but made no arrests. According to police announcements, the government recovered a few rifles and a submachine-gun, ammunition, a large tent, some of the raiders' uniforms, and their logbook, among other items. The new PPO, in place since September, distinguished this operation from previous ones, stating: "[This operation] will continue until we flush out all the raiders. This time we will not stop until we end this menace."204

The long delay in organizing and mounting a serious security operation is striking, and even the November 1997 operation-billed as the government's most effective action and attributed to the arrival of needed reinforcements-did not result in the capture of the raiders or an end to their activities. To the contrary, sporadic raids continued well into November-although they increasingly took the form of banditry. A small band of raiders defied police for more than a year after that, continuing to conduct armed robberies in the area and even promoting their activities with a broadcast on BBC radio in Kenya, until a December 1998 police ambush in which Bempa and several of the raiders' remaining military leaders were killed.

Torture and Ill-Treatment

The Kenyan security forces were responsible for an indiscriminate crackdown on the Digo population of the South Coast after the initial raids, even while largely avoiding confrontation with the raiders themselves. Human Rights Watch heard numerous first-hand testimonies of widespread and serious human rights abuses. Patterns of excessive use of force by security forces, police brutality, and torture in Kenya have been well documented and are not specific to the Coast region. In this case, the interviewees described being beaten, tortured, and severely mistreated during detention. The violations took place following the killing of several police officers in the Likoni attack, when the detainees were picked up in security sweeps of mostly Digo youths.

Security forces, while avoiding confrontations with the armed raiders at their hideouts, undertook security operations that targeted residents of coastal villages and towns. As one raider put it, "They chased the Digos for revenge. Instead of looking for us, they killed innocent people."205 Human rights groups documented that the officially sanctioned sweeps, involving combined units of GSU, police, and other security personnel, resulted in indiscriminate arrests of hundreds of mostly Digo men, widespread incidents of rape, and systematic looting.206

Those detained by the police were severely mistreated. A Digo man who claimed he had not been involved in the raids said he suffered repeated abuse after he was picked up by police. He was transported, handcuffed and lying face down, in the back of a pickup truck. The metal burned him, he said, but when he attempted to move, "the police would hit my buttocks and legs and head with their gun butts." He was taken to a police station, where the beatings continued. He explained:

Over there they started beating me while asking "How many people did you kill?" "Where are your people?" "We know you trained them." I was ordered to stand with my hands on the floor and my feet against the wall upside down and told to count to 1,000. When I fell over after a while, seven police beat me with hose pipes on the back of my neck.207

A raider who was captured with a friend after defecting from the group had a similar experience. He said: "We were beaten very badly by the police in Dianipolice station for two days. We were just being beaten and told that we had participated in the raid on the Likoni police station. We were not asked any questions."208 Swaleh bin Alfan likewise complained of mistreatment by the police, whom he said beat him and stole cash and valuables when they came to his house to arrest him for illegal oathing and other crimes associated with the violence.209

Digos were the primary civilian victims of government forces charged with pursuing the raiders, but they were not alone. Individuals near the scene of the Likoni police station raid were also targeted without regard to their presumed guilt or innocence. An up-country man who happened to be driving in the Likoni ferry area on the night of the raid described how he and others were brutalized by security forces who apparently were seeking revenge-and included innocent people among the targets:

The police were saying, "Let's kill these men, they killed the askaris [police]." One jumped on me with his boots on and broke my rib. [...] The GSU guy was hitting me with the muzzle of the gun to hurt my kidney. [...] They were whooping war cries and beating us at the same time. People came out [from hiding] to get protection from the police. [...] The police lined them up on the ground and started beating them, men and women both. They said horrible things in Swahili to one girl. The GSUs called them guerrillas. They said I was transporting guerrillas. [...] The police forced us to crawl on our hands and knees toward the ferry and were beating us, kicking us with boots. [...] It was fun for them to walk on us.210

The group crossed the ferry, still on its knees, and was loaded into a lorry that was taken to the central police station:

I was so glad when I saw where I was because I realized they planned to arrest us, not kill us. [...] The cells have lots of bugs and no room. To harass us, the police would tell all of us to get in the cells. [...] They know you can't fit. They just want to be cruel and exercise authority. They'd come and kick me even though I was hurt.211

Other detainees agreed that the overcrowding and poor prison conditions were a serious problem. One raider described the situation:

The conditions at Central Police Station were awful. People had no food. Some even drank their own urine. The lucky ones have cells on the sides, but most of us were crowded into the central courtyard with no food and water and a bad stench.212

Another raider stated:

One colleague was cut with a panga [machete] on the head and got infected with insects. He didn't get any medical attention and he died. [...] The following morning, after my colleague's death, I was taken back [to the police station]. We were forced to squat naked for twelve hours, lined up in about three rows. One officer recorded our names and then they'd call us [to be released].213

Moreover, a number of detainees held in connection with the raids reported torture by the police. Sixteen suspects filed a lawsuit against the government alleging serious injuries as the result of the application of a corrosive substance to their genitals, which they claimed had been ordered by prison authorities. An independent medical assessment concluded that the substance, which was purported to be an antiseptic or antifungal agent, could have made them impotent or infertile.214

Former detainees interviewed independently gave Human Rights Watch testimonies that were consistent. They described being taken to a large interrogation chamber that was outfitted with two tables. There, they were told to remove their clothes and wait on their knees as others were tortured, until it was their turn. One detainee, a Digo man who had already suffered extensive police beatings, described the torture method:

[They] made me crouch down, put a wooden stick behind my bent knees, wrapped my arms under the stick, and then tied my hands together at my knees so I couldn't move. Then they picked me up and balanced the stick between both tables. Because of my weight, I immediately was upside down, tied onto this stick. Then they proceeded to beat me. Sometimes one of them, sometimes more. They had flat wooden planks. They were saying, "You don't want to tell us what happened?" [...] They beat the soles of my feet until they blistered and also my legs and buttocks. After that they released me and made me jump like a frog on my blistered feet hundreds of times. The room was full of about thirty other people [detainees] at different stages of this torture. They were also tying a string around people's testicles, pulling it tight and then leading them around the room like that. They were going through all of us one by one.215

Another person, a captured raider, described being subjected to the same torture:

At the police headquarters, I was tied at the elbows and knees around a stick and then suspended upside down between two tables and hit on the feet, knees, and arms. Five policemen hit me one after another until they were all tired. After being beaten, a nylon string was tied twice around my testicles and then I was pulled around the room twice. The room was a big hall with two other rooms attached. I could not see others but I could hear them screaming. The room is on the ground floor overlooking the sea, but there is no window. I was asked where the guns were and who was behind these attacks. I said I didn't know. They beat me five times, each time for about one hour.216

A third victim told the same story:

A police officer with a gap in his teeth took me to a room with a table on each side. I was tortured there. I was tied with my hands and my feet tied together and hung upside down between the two tables and a baton was place on the back of my knees. I was beaten on the soles of the feet. The police office asked what I knew about killing police, burning houses, and stealing guns. They said they'd kill me and I refused to give any names. After beating my feet, they'd tell me to jog. My feet still hurt. I haveaches in the morning and at night. They also tied my genitals with a rope and pulled. This treatment lasted about one week.217

This individual, who was also a captured raider, still had heavily scarred feet two years later.

One of the raiders noted that since the torture:

I have problems with my groin and the joints in my arms. I cannot sleep with my wife any more. I can't work as a driver any more because I cannot grip the steering wheel. I saw a doctor but he wanted me to get an X-ray and I could not afford it, so I have not gotten any medical treatment.218

Some of those who gave testimony of torture were raiders who had been picked up in the indiscriminate sweeps conducted by the Kenyan security forces. The raiders with whom Human Rights Watch spoke were not convicted for their involvement in the raids. Three of them were detained but, as noted below, only one of those was prosecuted, in a criminal trial of 240 accused raiders that ultimately resulted in acquittal. Few politicians who were implicated in the violence were charged and in only a few instances did the cases go to trial (see below).

The evidence strongly suggests that government officials and KANU politicians contributed to the organization of the violence, both before and after the violence began, and-ultimately-to impunity for those behind it. Prior to the Likoni attack, raiders testified, men whom they were told were KANU members of parliament (MPs) and key party activists visited their training camps and met with their leaders (and, according to one raider, provided material support). After the raids broke out in Likoni, several top KANU politicians took a number of steps designed to protect the party's interests-even when those interests appeared to conflict with the overriding public interest in ending the raids immediately and bringing those responsible to justice.

Politicians who were not part of government security structures nevertheless closely involved themselves in government security matters by urging a halt to the security operations, according to police testimony, and by pressing for a gun amnesty for raiders. The gun amnesty, as will be discussed, was part of negotiationsbetween the government and the raiders conducted via Shakombo, and provided that the raiders would be pardoned if they handed in the stolen weapons. Politicians also repeatedly interfered in police investigations, undermining accountability for prominent Coast Province politicians who had been implicated in the violence, as well as securing the release of the raiders' spiritual leader (see below). According to testimony from police and judicial authorities, these releases were secured under irregular circumstances and contrary to procedure. In general, security officials said they felt under immense political pressure to comply with the demands of KANU politicians with respect to limiting the security operations and police investigations. Moreover, top politicians associated publicly with the raiders, most notably by asking their spiritual leader to conduct campaign activities on behalf of the ruling party and by providing them material assistance, which they said they did as part of government negotiations to end the raids and recover the stolen guns.

Indications of Early KANU Support

A number of testimonies, most of them from people who claim to have first-hand knowledge of the events, suggest that powerful KANU politicians at the provincial and even national level were deeply involved in the organization of the violence in the Coast region, and some may have been in direct contact with the raiders during the planning phase. The claims are contested or unconfirmed, but taken together raise the possibility that-from the beginning-the Likoni raid and subsequent attacks reflected a violent strategy designed by individuals high up in the ruling party.

In testimony to Human Rights Watch, a former KANU politician in Coast Province described being summoned in 1993 by a senior government official from the Office of the President who expressed concern about KANU's electoral losses in the 1992 election and suggested that the politician mobilize a group to drive out the up-country voters and thereby ensure a KANU win in 1997. (The politician said he did not take up the suggestion.) According to his testimony:

[The official from the Office of the President] told me that KANU has been threatened by what happened in this [1992] election and that they don't want something like this to happen again because the president might lose. If that trend goes on of up-country people supporting the opposition, it will be dangerous for KANU. He asked me, "How should I take care of them?" He told me that I should form a group like Masumbuko-the official government thug. [...] He said, "Do like Masumbuko and plan something that would make the up-country people leave the area." [...] He meant to do clashes. I know because Masumbukodid that to counter the IPK [Islamic Party of Kenya] by attacking sympathizers [...] I asked him about security and he said, "There's no problem." [...] To make sure if this was official or unofficial, I asked him if the president knows and is aware of it. [The high-level official] said, "We've got the blessings of Mzee [President Moi]." He used those words, in Swahili and English.219

A second, consistent account was offered by another former KANU politician, Emmanuel Maitha, who left KANU in late 1997 to run for parliament on the Democratic Party ticket. In December 1997, Maitha gave a newspaper interview in which he was quoted as stating: "The recent `tribal' clashes at the Coast are part of a larger KANU scheme to rig the December elections."220 In an interview with the Kenya Human Rights Commission a few days later, he was more specific, alleging that the Coast violence had been organized by senior KANU politicians. In that interview, Maitha maintained that he was not involved in the raids and claimed that the violence was orchestrated and financed by Rashid Sajjad, an MP and top Coast KANU politician who headed KANU's Coast Province campaign effort, together with a longtime cabinet minister and "associates of theirs at State House [the Office of the President]."221

Maitha asserted that the KANU plotters timed the violence to disrupt voting by up-country residents and thereby improve KANU's electoral prospects in the area. According to him, Sajjad took the lead to execute the plan on the ground and the Likoni violence was to be the first stage in a broader KANU strategy to instigate violence for political ends in different parts of Kenya. While Maitha declined to reveal how he learned this, he said he feared for his life because of the sensitive information he had, including first-hand information about prior efforts to disrupt opposition activities (see above).222 Maitha later maintained that he never spoke tothe Kenya Human Rights Commission.223 Rashid Sajjad categorically rejected the allegations laid to Maitha and asserted the innocence of the other implicated KANU officials.224 Both Sajjad and the cabinet member implicated in the Maitha interview strongly denied accusations made in parliament and elsewhere that they orchestrated and financed the Likoni raiders' activities.225

A statement by Masumbuko was described in police testimony several times at the Akiwumi hearings. For example, the former Coast Province provincial criminal investigations officer, referring both to Masumbuko's statement and one attributed to Maitha (see above), said: "[...T]he statements, in fact, indicated the participation of the two in the previous activities of countering those who were seen to be having [forming] some other parties like IPK. They also implicated some personalities with whom they were consulting."226

Speaking about his experience organizing state-sanctioned violence, while maintaining his innocence with respect to the Likoni violence, Masumbuko's statement reads:

The issue of burning Likoni Police Station and stealing of guns cannot be done by someone without the assistance of the people in authority. Secondly, this must have taken a long time to plan and also money must have been used. When I used to fight with IPK, the Special Branch [Kenyan police intelligence] was aware of our activity. We used to draw plans together and then I would mobilise the youth to fight. Even this attack on Likoni Police Station must have been the same although it might have gonefurther to an extent of killing police officers.227

Testimony from a raider provides a different perspective, but one that also supports the charge that the raiders received support from important KANU leaders and allies as they were preparing for their planned attacks. According to an early recruit, politicians visited the camps and invoked the name of "Mzee" (President Moi) to suggest, rightly or wrongly, political support at the highest level.228

He stated further that he did not know these visitors, but that his commanders identified them as KANU members of parliament (MPs) and key party activists from Coast Province. Some of the visitors, he added, provided direct support to the raiders in advance of the raids. He said that one person was a particularly frequent political visitor, whom he personally witnessed at the camp four times before the Likoni raid. This person met with the raiders' local leaders and also exchanged greetings with the outsiders. After the visitor left, the raiders would receive food delivered by pickup truck. The raider also stated that the visitor provided the raiders with a lorry the night of the Likoni raid to transport them to the site of the attack. The raider also explained that after several of these visits, the leaders would indicate that they had been given money or even a few guns (which he said were wrapped in a package so they were not visible). He added that all of the visits, even when not accompanied by direct support, served to encourage the raiders because they demonstrated that the raiders had the backing of important people.229

In addition, Swaleh bin Alfan testified before the Akiwumi Commission that Shakombo and Sajjad visited his home together a few days prior to the Likoni raid. He said the two men told him they had some people in the forest who were organizing for violence and that he should keep this information secret. During the visit, Alfan added, three other visitors arrived and were introduced as leaders of the raiders, including Bempa. Alfan further stated that he witnessed Shakombo andSajjad give money to these three men, Ksh.3,000 (U.S.$50), to buy food. Alfan retracted these statements in subsequent testimony before the Akiwumi Commission. When speaking to Human Rights Watch in 1999 he maintained that his initial testimony, which both Sajjad and Shakombo strongly rejected, had been correct.230

A number of allegations surfaced that Shakombo was intimately involved in the raiders' planning activities. For example, a KANU politician, Suleiman Kamole, testified to the Akiwumi Commission that he attended a security meeting after the Likoni raid in which Alfan declared that Shakombo had been the one who took prospective raiders to him to be oathed.231 Shakombo was also named as a supplier of weapons to the raiders in advance of the Likoni attack.232 Moreover, Shakombo was alleged before the Akiwumi Commission to have financed the raiders during the planning phase, based on information provided to police by a captured raider who stated that the politician gave raiders Ksh.27,000 [$490] in two payments in February 1997.233 In addition, police said several suspects told them that Shakombo incited them to attack the Likoni police station and expel up-country residents from the area.234 Shakombo, who testified that he had family ties to the raiders, acknowledged that he was aware of the raiders' oathing and training activities, as well as their plans to attack police stations in order to acquire weapons, which he reported to a local intelligence officer in May 1997, but by his account hehad absolutely no part in them.235

KANU Politicians Seek Halt to Security Operations

In mid-August, 1997, only a few days after the Likoni police station attack, members of the provincial security committee (PSC) held a meeting, jointly with other officials, to discuss ongoing security operations. Three officials who participated told the Akiwumi Commission that Sajjad and Maitha appeared at the office of the provincial police officer (PPO) as their meeting was in progress. They said the politicians made clear that they wanted operations against the raiders to cease and cited political reasons. Maitha agreed only that he had told the PSC members that abuses by government forces against the Digo and the wider Mijikenda population risked undermining support for KANU in the election later that year. His testimony to the commission differed slightly in other respects. He stated that his objection to the security operation was the involvement of the military and the manner in which police were conducting searches, but said he did not call for an end to all operations. He also said that he was speaking only for himself, on behalf of the Mijikenda community. The security officials further stated that Sajjad implicitly endorsed the call to end the operations, which Sajjad denied through his lawyer. Regardless, Sajjad's presence at the meeting likely made a difference, as at the time he was considered a very powerful figure in Coast Province. Perceptions of his level of influence were such that Sajjad was twice alleged before the Akiwumi Commission to have directed government affairs in Coast Province (a claim rejected by the officials on the stand).236

This was not the only such incident on which security officials testified. For example, one senior official said that KANU MPs Boy and Mwamzandi also pressed for an end to the security operation, again citing abuses against their constituents. Both denied that they wanted the operations halted and said that theyinstead complained about how the operations were conducted.237

Shakombo, at that time still with KANU, testified that he met with President Moi in Mombasa approximately one week after the outbreak of violence in Coast Province to protest the conduct of security officials. He said he recommended at that meeting that the government offer a pardon to encourage raiders to hand in the stolen weapons. The government soon thereafter announced a gun amnesty, with President Moi announcing a week-long amnesty on August 22 and later extending it by ten days until September 9. In December 1997, with only twenty-four of the stolen guns recovered, President Moi said he would consider granting amnesty to the more than 200 suspects charged in connection with the violence if the remainder of the guns were handed in. The balance of the weapons were not surrendered and the amnesty was not granted.238

The effect of the August-September amnesty was to contribute to further chaos and displacement. Police officials indicated that the amnesty effectively suspended security operations against the raiders-who were operating from camps in the Kaya Bombo forest and Similani caves-for nearly one month.239 But many residents of the Coast region continued to fear security forces who, during the amnesty period in particular, conducted sweeps in residential areas and targeted Digo residents for unlawful arrest and mistreatment, and therefore joined up-country residents in fleeing their homes. As one raider put it, "KANU gave people ten days to return the guns or threaten an ambush, so the civilians had to leave."240



Political Interference in Police Investigations

Amid accusations from many quarters that the bloodshed was politically motivated, intended to influence the election results and disrupt the political momentum of the constitutional reform movement, government and ruling party officials repeatedly sought to deflect attention from allegations concerning KANU politicians by pointing the finger at their political rivals. The August 15 arrest of a human rights investigator, an opposition party activist, and a politician from a Coast-based unregistered party, on charges of unlawful assembly, fit into thisstrategy.241

KANU politicians, for their part, accused the opposition of sparking the violence to damage KANU's reputation. The leader of KANU explained the party's position: "The clashes must have been started by somebody who knew they would make KANU unpopular and who believed they could get away with simply blaming them on KANU. Nobody should go for votes by killing people and then blaming his political opponent. That is immoral."242 President Moi stated: "KANU is a party which advocates peace and unity and at no time can it perpetrate violence."243 He and the KANU leader both strongly condemned the violence and firmly asserted that any politician found to have been involved would be arrested, with Moi stating: "Even if you are an MP you won't escape if you incite people."244 In practice, however, political considerations very much inhibited police investigations, and ultimately these promises were at best empty words.

Police officials testified that they became suspicious about the role of KANU members in the violence. In some cases, they said suspects implicated KANU politicians as organizers of the violence. In other cases, police suspected ruling party politicians because they sought to interfere in the police investigation, including by calling for an end to the security operation. They also indicated that they developed doubts about politicians who gained access to the raiders to help arrange the return of guns. In still other cases politicians were named as police suspects on the basis of allegations linking them to the raiders. Among those named as suspects by police for one or more of these reasons were Boy, Maitha, Masumbuko, Mwahima, Mwamzandi, Hisham Mwidau (see list, above), andShakombo.245 The provincial criminal investigations officer at the time of the Likoni raid, during cross-examination by a lawyer representing the Law Society of Kenya, agreed with the lawyer that there was no reason why Shakombo had not been arrested and charged.246 He also agreed that there should have been an investigation of higher-ranking KANU members who were implicated, including Sajjad, in particular to gather statements from them concerning the allegations.247 This, however, was not done.

Francis Gichuki, who headed up the Coast Province police team as the PPO at the time, commented at the Akiwumi hearings that in some cases arrests were not made because the suspects were politically well-connected and some served in the government. As he put it, "I did not want to burn my fingers."248

In the case of Masumbuko, Gichuki testified that police suspected Masumbuko because he was the first to arrive at the scene of raids, as if he knew in advance where they would take place. Other sources have alleged that Masumbuko was responsible for recruiting the highly trained outsiders who helped the raiders. He was suspected in part because of his role in organizing and training local youths under UMA (as noted, one raider said former UMA members joined their ranks). In a rare instance of police action against a politically connected suspect, the KANU activist was arrested on August 20, 1997, charged in connection with the violence, and prosecuted.249

As police themselves testified, a high level of political interference in judicial matters concerning the Coast violence undermined accountability, and prominent suspects were unlikely to face arrest, much less prosecution. Indeed, several politicians who were arrested in connection with the violence were released from custody after top officials intervened on their behalf, and in some of those cases KANU political interests were explicitly cited as a reason for their release. Thecircumstances and conditions of these releases were not always made clear, but in most cases the evidence suggests the politicians were released without charge or that charges were later dropped.

In a notable example, a police officer reportedly motivated by political considerations arranged for Maitha to be released on bond two weeks after his arrest. The provincial criminal investigations officer (PCIO) acknowledged that he instructed prosecuting and judicial officers to charge Maitha with a bailable offense, as opposed to a more serious charge he might otherwise have faced. According to the magistrate and the police prosecutor, the PCIO told them that top officials had determined that this move was necessary to protect the interests of the ruling party. Both recalled that the PCIO explained that the continued detention of Maitha, who was still with KANU at the time, could cause the party to lose votes among Mijikenda supporters. They also both said that the PCIO told them that the decision to release Maitha on bond had been reached at a provincial security meeting with the president, but the PCIO strongly denied that he had invoked President Moi's name or attributed the decision to the provincial security committee; instead, he testified that he was acting on an order from the Kenyan commissioner of police in Nairobi. The police commissioner denied that that was the case, and PSC members also disassociated themselves completely from the PCIO's action.250

Political interference also influenced the case of Mwalimu Masoud Mwahima, who was a KANU councillor and later would become Mombasa's mayor, as well as that of Hisham Mwidau, the KANU MP candidate for Likoni. Both men were arrested on suspicion of involvement in the Likoni violence. In the case of Mwidau, police arrested him on evidence that his vehicle had been used to transport raiders. Mwahima, according to police testimony, was similarly suspected of allowing his vehicle to be used by raiders and, moreover, was the subject of unconfirmed allegations that raiders fired shots from a house belonging to him. The investigating officer from Nairobi, who had ordered the arrests, testified that the PCIO arrangedto release both suspects without his consent. According to testimony at the Akiwumi hearings, the politicians were released without charge. Political pressure had been brought to bear in this case; the former PPO testified that Mwidau's release was the result of "negotiations," and that cabinet minister and Coast Province MP Shariff Nassir pressed for Mwahima to be released from custody. The minister confirmed this in his testimony before the Akiwumi Commission.251

One case of political interference stands out because police strongly believed the prisoner, Swaleh bin Alfan, was a prime suspect; yet he was released from custody after he had been charged with non-bailable offenses. Several top security officials testified that from the time of Alfan's arrest on August 15, they were under great pressure from various politicians-including former assistant minister Mwamzandi, former KANU MP Boy, and then-KANU aspirant to a parliamentary seat Shakombo-to release him from custody, ostensibly so he could use his influence to promote the surrender of weapons stolen by the raiders.252

Shakombo openly acknowledged playing a key role in arranging Alfan's release. Shakombo testified that, acting through a cousin who was associated with the raiders, he urged the raiders to hand in the stolen weapons under the gun amnesty, and they in turn demanded that Alfan be released. He said he personally visited the raiders' hideout in the Similani caves to deliver the message that the authorities had agreed to the raiders' conditions. There was a delay, however, and Alfan was first taken to remand prison at Shimo la Tewa, north of Mombasa. This seeming betrayal of the promise made to the raiders put the strategy at risk, headded, and resulted in the killing of his cousin by the angry raiders. Out of concern for his own safety, he said, he cut off contact with the raiders.253

Alfan's release, however, would soon be secured. During a visit to the province in the third week of August, President Moi announced that the government would arrange for the oath administrator (not named) to withdraw the oath under official supervision. The following month a PSC meeting was held on September 22 with Coast political leaders. Those present, which included a number of prominent KANU MPs, aspiring MPs, and civic leaders-some of whom had themselves been implicated in the violence-pressed for Alfan's release, arguing that he be set free to de-oath the raiders. According to officials, the provincial security team had earlier rejected the same appeal from various politicians, but under continued pressure the PSC reversed its initial decision. One factor was that some of the PSC members who had voted against the measure before had by then been transferred and replaced. When asked why Alfan, charged with the crime of oathing, was set free to carry out an act, de-oathing, that is also illegal under Kenyan law, one of the new PSC members stated that it this was the "unanimous agreement" of the PSC and the political leaders.254

Three days later, on September 25, Alfan was ordered released on bail on the recommendation of the prosecution. The then-director of the Criminal Investigations Department in Nairobi testified that he was consulted in advance and did not object to the PSC's decision. To make his release possible, the new Coast Province PCIO (in place since the mid-September transfer of his predecessor) instructed that capital charges against Alfan be dropped. Alfan's bond of Ksh.200,000 ($3,360) was put up by no less a figure than MP Boy, who confirmedthis, and Alfan claimed Sajjad and Shakombo had arranged this assistance.255

Senior police officials appeared eager to keep Alfan out of jail. When Alfan was arrested on fresh evidence in November, the new PPO ordered Alfan be freed immediately, saying he wanted Alfan out of jail so the police could monitor his activities. The arresting officer, however, said he worried that the arrest had antagonized powerful individuals and requested a transfer because he feared for his life as a result.0

KANU Campaigns with the Raiders' Spiritual Leader

After politicians arranged for Alfan's release and until he was rearrested and jailed on similar charges following the December 1997 elections, Alfan was recruited to help KANU politicians campaign and was given money for this purpose. His help was enlisted by Suleiman Kamole and the provincial commissioner (PC). The latter said an official in the Office of the President instructed him to work with Alfan to arrange de-oathing of the raiders.1

Notably, no such de-oathing ever took place after Alfan's release. Alfan testified th