President Uhuru Kenyatta, Health Cabinet Secretary Mutahi Kagwe and acting director-general Patrick Amoth, Interior CS Fred Matiang’i, Inspector-General Hillary Mutyambai, governors and other leaders — they have all, at different times in the last four months, insisted that bars are to remain closed to fight the spread of Covid-19.
But Kenyans, in their characteristic don’t-care fashion, continue to patronise bars that remain open long after curfew hours, both ordinary citizens and their leaders as well.
Nairobi Senator Johnson Sakaja’s arrest on Saturday was not the first incident of such swoops netting high profile public officials.
Flouting curfew rules.
In the last four months, a magistrate, an member of Parliament, a ward representative, an army officer, police officers and doctors have been arrested after flouting curfew rules.
Last weekend, the Nation took a drive around several Nairobi neighbourhoods in search of nightclubs that open illegally. A few hours later, Health CS Mr Kagwe in his daily address revealed that Kenya had confirmed the highest number of Covid-19 cases in a 24-hour period, as 688 individuals tested positive.
This would not deter a section of Kenyans who either do not believe that the virus exists, or simply have a reckless disregard for life.
While it has been an open secret that some establishments are still operating, and well beyond curfew hours, our investigation revealed that police officers could be protecting nightclubs and their patrons as they drink and dance the night away.
Saturday night: Our excursion starts in Muthiga along Waiyaki Way at 8.52pm. The message on social distancing and avoiding social gatherings has clearly missed party-goers here. Some are cooped up in their vehicles drinking while others make merry in clubs.
WATCH FOOTBALL
Two nightclubs, Country Muthiga Inn and 105 Republik, are jam-packed as people drink, eat nyama choma and watch football. Outside the clubs, a woman is enjoying her drink out of a plastic tumbler.
She places the tumbler on a car roof after sipping. Small groups of people are doing the same thing around the unofficial parking lot.
Barely 300 metres away, three police officers are walking towards the Muthiga centre. But their presence is not to arrest or send revellers home.
Every day at around 9pm, a set of officers show up, like clockwork, and leave a few minutes later as scores of party-goers proceed with their celebrations.
Nobody flinches when the see the police — they know the officers are only out for a pay-day.
Interestingly, there are at least four police stations and posts just a few kilometres away at Kabete, Kinoo, Regen and Kikuyu. A few minutes past 10pm, our team moves to Kasarani.
Here, you would be excused for thinking that the suburb is exempt from curfew rules or any Covid-19 control measures. Life goes on as if it were daytime. Shops are still open. Approximately 200 metres from the Kasarani Police Station stands Club Switch.
DIGITAL TAXI
It is fully operational and there is no attempt to hide the fact. The parking lot is full. Some parked vehicles belong to revellers while others are digital taxi hailing app drivers waiting to take their clients home.
As we are plotting what angle to take photographs from, a police vehicle stops right in front of us. And much like Muthiga, nobody flinches at the law enforcers’ presence.
A woman in shorts and green top approaches the police Land Cruiser and converses with the two officers inside.
She is not wearing a mask. She makes way for Club Switch’s security guard, who has a very brief engagement with the officers before dashing into the establishment.
When the security guard returns a few minutes later, he points the police officers to the back of the nightclub, which they slowly drive towards using a murram link road.
We spot a few liquor stores in Kasarani and, while they seem closed, it is easily noticeable that people are locked inside.
Our next stop is Kiambu Road, where nightclubs appear closed but tens of motorists have conveniently parked outside the establishments.
CURFEW HOURS
You can see people in many of the cars, raising the question: Why are all these people seated in vehicles outside bars hours past curfew and all at the same time? At the Fuse Lounge, which is not far from the Runda Police Station, is open.
The establishment’s large, open windows allow passers-by to notice that there are revellers on the top floor having a good time. A few of them are dancing.
Along the Northern bypass, the Ashiki Grill is trying hard to pretend to be closed. The gate is shut and two security guards are manning the general area.
Whenever a vehicle approaches the nightclub, they rush to find out who it is and what they want.
“Wamefunga, hamuwezi ingia. Labda kesho (They have closed, you can’t go in. Come back tomorrow),” one of the security guards tells us.
But we can see several people still inside drinking and eating. It is nearly an hour after curfew. We snake our way through Thome Road, and bump into Clarett Lounge, a sin spot bursting at the seams with thirsty patrons.
As we were turning to leave, two bouncers open the gate and a crowds of people start walking towards their cars. There is hardly an attempt to hide the fact that they have been drinking, despite it being nearly an hour after curfew.
Two bouncers escort a patron to his car, and he tips them before driving off towards Roasters. When we pass by Muthiga again past 11pm, the place is now silent. Country Muthiga and 105 Republik are now closed.
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