
By Dan Isaac Bw’Onyancha
Death is traditionally met with solemnity, a moment of communal mourning that transcends personal grievances.
But when a public figure passes—especially one perceived to have betrayed the public trust—the reaction is often anything but unified.
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The recent death of Wafula Chebukati, former chairman of the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC), has reignited this debate, with many Kenyans choosing not to mourn but to reflect, criticize, or even celebrate.
His passing has become less about personal loss and more about the reckoning of his legacy.
Chebukati’s tenure at the IEBC was marked by controversy, particularly during the 2017 and 2022 general elections.
Allegations of electoral manipulation, bias, and a failure to uphold democratic principles left many Kenyans disillusioned with the electoral process.
“For those who believe elections shape the country’s future, Chebukati was not just an official but a symbol of a system that repeatedly failed the people.”
–Isaac Dan Bw’Onyancha
His name became synonymous with a democracy that, in the eyes of many, remained elusive.
It is therefore unsurprising that his death has evoked mixed reactions.
While some leaders and institutions have expressed official condolences, much of the public response has been laced with bitterness.
Social media platforms—now the primary space for public discourse—have been flooded with critical reflections, satire, and even celebratory tones.
For many Kenyans, this is not a loss to mourn but an opportunity to revisit past grievances, to say, without fear of offending the dead, that his legacy remains deeply contested.
This shift in public reaction to the deaths of prominent figures signals an evolving national consciousness—one where respect in death is no longer automatic but is contingent on one’s actions in life.
Traditionally, African customs dictate that the dead must be honored, that whatever wrongs they committed should be buried with them.
But modern Kenya is proving to be less forgiving.
Accountability
There is an increasing belief that posthumous accountability is a form of justice, that those who harmed the public should not be redeemed simply by virtue of dying.
Yet, this raises a difficult question: is it ethical to celebrate death, no matter the sins of the deceased?
Some argue that it is tasteless, even inhumane, to take joy in someone’s passing.
But others contend that when the systems meant to deliver justice in life fail, people find closure in death.
For them, refusing to mourn is not about disrespect—it is about making a statement, a final act of resistance against those who wielded power irresponsibly.
Chebukati’s death is more than just the end of a life; it is a moment of national introspection.
It forces us to confront the legacies of those who shape our democracy, to ask whether history will remember them with honor or disdain.
In Kenya today, the death of a public figure is no longer just a family affair—it is a public reckoning, a referendum on their impact.
And if there is one lesson in the reaction to Chebukati’s passing, it is that leadership is not just about holding office.
It is about the legacy one leaves behind, and in the court of public opinion, death does not absolve one of judgment.
-Mr. Onyancha is a Leadership and Governance expert and commentator




