The DCI, which now appears to be acting under pressure from State House, is making a grave mistake by seeming to go after journalists like Zipporah Wambui instead of concentrating on the actual facts of the case before it.
That approach is not only misguided but dangerous.
The moment an investigative agency begins to sound irritated by reporters, it stops projecting professionalism and starts projecting insecurity. A journalist is not supposed to be the story.
The work of a journalist is to gather information, publish what they find, question official accounts, and shape public understanding around events of national interest. That is the role of the press in any functioning society, and it should never be treated as though it is part of the offence under investigation.
If the DCI truly believes it has a strong case regarding Raphael Tuju’s alleged disappearance, then the country expects it to demonstrate that through solid evidence, clearly identified suspects, proper charges, and a process that can stand up in court. What the public does not expect is for an official communication to read like an attempt to settle scores with a journalist who may have been ahead of the agency in controlling the public narrative.
That is exactly where the DCI is going wrong.
By mentioning Zipporah Wambui in this manner, the agency creates the impression that it is less focused on securing justice and more focused on who embarrassed it in the court of public opinion. That is not how a serious investigative body behaves. It comes across as petty, defensive and vindictive, and it undermines the credibility the institution is supposed to protect.
In truth, if Zipporah Wambui outplayed them in the battle of narrative, then they would be better served asking how she managed to do it rather than appearing to turn her into part of the problem. What this situation reveals more than anything else is a failure in communication on the part of the DCI itself.
An agency does not recover from being outmaneuvered in the public sphere by creating the impression that journalists are now under suspicion. It recovers by communicating better, moving with more discipline, and presenting evidence in such a clear and credible way that the facts speak more powerfully than speculation ever could. Where a case is strong, there is no need to look bitter. Where evidence is sound, there is no need to sound rattled. Where an investigation is credible, there is no reason to appear hostile to journalism.
The DCI should also be careful to understand the message this sends to the public, because once investigators appear to target journalists, many Kenyans will stop seeing confidence and will begin to see intimidation instead. That does serious damage to public trust, and it weakens the very authority the agency is trying to assert.
It also raises a deeper and more uncomfortable question. Why is so much energy being spent on narrative management instead of simply prosecuting the case? Why not allow the file, the CCTV footage, the witness statements and every other piece of evidence to do the heavy lifting? Why create the impression that a reporter has somehow become part of the offence merely because she told the story before the state could control it?
That is a serious institutional mistake.
My advice to the DCI is straightforward. Leave journalists alone and focus on the case. If crimes were committed, investigate the suspects thoroughly, gather admissible evidence, and prosecute those responsible.
If someone misled the public, then prove that through due process in court. But official press releases should never read like emotional reactions to media coverage, because the moment that happens the institution begins to look weak rather than authoritative.
A strong investigative agency does not fight the press because it lost control of the narrative. It builds a solid case, places the evidence before the law, and allows justice to take its course.
Source: Cyprian Nyakundi
