If you are Kenyan, you have probably heard of Collins Jumaisi, the man accused of killing around 42 women and discarding their remains in a Nairobi quarry. The suspected serial killer’s first alleged victim was his wife, whom he strangled and dismembered then disposed of the remains.
This guy’s story is like watching a horror movie unfolding in slow motion. There are a lot of themes and sub stories in there; from excessive violence and brutality to a justice system tested and found wanting. When news broke that Jumaisi had escaped from Gigiri Police Station in August 2024 alongside twelve other detainees (the other twelve were Eritreans) the shock deepened.
And now, authorities have placed a Ksh 1 million bounty on his head, paid in cash to whoever will help track down a man they believe could be one of Kenya’s most dangerous killers.
Michezo ya town, as we Kenyans love to say.
This guy escaped prison more than a year ago and the DCI, police, CID and anyone else involved with the country’s security have been quiet. A serial killer alleged to have killed 42 women, a fact that he personally confessed to, is out here roaming the streets freely and the authorities were as quiet as the water in a pot. By the way, it is suspected that the number could be even higher, based on the fact that this is just the number of bodies found. What if there are more out there that are undiscovered?
Now that the media highlighted the story, the authorities are running helter skelter and offering a million in return for news of the guy. When I read the news, one thing kept bothering me. I couldn’t help but wonder if in the history of bounty rewards in kenya, there is one – just one – person that has ever received such a reward.
In a country where the police officers were paid a mere three hundred shillings for controlling the unruly crowds during the CHAN tournament, as opposed to the thirteen thousand per day that they were promised.
And you, in your right senses, expect the police to pay you one million shillings?
Michezo ya taoni.
Nobody could have imagined that the quarry in Mukuru Kwa Njenga could be converted into a graveyard that was used to conceal the remains of women whose lives ended violently. For a couple of years Collins Jumaisi is suspected to have been carrying out these crimes, and when the bodies began to surface in 2024, wrapped in sacks and bearing eerie similarities, investigators were sure it was him.
Born in Vihiga County, the guy whom neighbours described as shy and quiet, turned out to be anything but. We need to study the connection between these so-called “shy” guys and violence. If they are not robbing banks – think Wanugu, Wacucu and Rasta- then they are preying on potential victims – think of Bundy and Dahmer- or…they are terrorising the world, aka Osama Bin Laden.
The police allege this Collins guy lived a double life of luring women, killing them and discarding their bodies less than two hundred metres from a police post (it is the audacity for me.) The number of victims, as per his alleged confession, could be as high as forty-two. But, once again, even though that figure is under dispute, the horror it inspired has left an indelible mark on the nation’s psyche.
We have to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions about Kenya’s law enforcement system. How could dozens of women vanish without triggering alarms? Even more chilling, how did a quarry just a short walk from a police post become a burial ground, unnoticed for that long?
As citizens we cannot help but notice a troubling pattern of missing persons cases, especially those involving women from poorer communities, rarely receiving the urgency they deserve.
Then came the arrest. Authorities announced that Jumaisi had confessed to the killings that linked him to body after body. But not before long, the cracks began to appear. In court, Jumaisi claimed that his confession was extracted under torture and abuse. This alone, if it turns out to be even remotely true, will cast doubt on the strength of the case while also exposing deep flaws in investigative practices.
As if that is not already too much for us Kenyans to take in, the guy’s escape from Gigiri Police Station adds to the sense of failure. A cruel confirmation that the system can neither protect its citizens nor safeguard justice. Or can it?
At this point, even the government’s announcement of a bounty for his recapture seems less like a strategy and more like a desperate attempt to restore public confidence.
The fact that he slipped out of Gigiri Police Station by cutting through a wire mesh and scaling a perimeter wall in itself raises more questions than it answers. How could a suspect tied to dozens of murders walk free from one of the most guarded police stations in Nairobi?
As families of victims demanded answers and activists decried the incompetence, one thought kept rearing its ugly head; is it just incompetence, or something as worse as complicity?
Serial killing, something we always thought of as happening in far away lands, is now happening in our backyards. Globally, nations that have faced serial killers have invested in specialized investigative units, advanced forensic labs and community-based early warning systems. In Kenya, however, we still rely heavily on confessions, tip-offs and luck. Especially hapo kwa luck.
What’s to say this will not repeat itself?
True justice requires more than capturing a single individual. It demands accountability from law enforcement and safeguards that ensure the most vulnerable are not ignored. Plus, how many of the victims’ names do you personally know of? Justice requires that we remember the victims and keep mentioning their names. Otherwise when we focus too much on the perpetrator and forget about the victims, we run the risk of normalizing such crimes. We end up creating cult-like figures like Bundy, and God forbid that happens in Kenya.
