Claims, counterclaims and search for the truth amid manipulation

The kicker beneath was equally searing: “Even with no action taken against rogue security agents blamed for killing dozens of protesters during last June’s Gen Z protests, there are growing concerns that a brutal crackdown on government critics has escalated.

The latest victim of the State-sanctioned abductions is Juja MP George Koimburi. Police claim that he stage-managed his attack.”

But the story didn’t end there. In a twist emblematic of our times, police swiftly denied any involvement, instead accusing the MP of stage-managing his own kidnapping.

They backed their claim with a detailed statement, outlining names, confessions and even the vehicles allegedly used in the incident. The battle for truth began.

Read: Genesis of Juja MP Koimburi’s troubles and abduction ordeal

The Daily Nation gave the unfolding drama extensive coverage, across three pages, including an analysis likening President William Ruto’s tactics to those of former strongman Daniel arap Moi. 

And to be fair, all major media houses led with Koimburi’s alleged abduction—an indication of the gravity the news carried.

The media—often regarded as the guardian of public information—was thrust into the middle of two formidable entities that have long been treated as reliable newsmakers: politicians and the State.

But who was lying? Who was speaking the truth? And how does the media navigate this treacherous terrain without becoming mere conduits for manufactured narratives?

Herein lies the crisis of our era. While we obsess over artificial intelligence and social media as vectors of disinformation, it is often the State and political elites who weaponise information and compromise the truth, manipulating a trusting Press to peddle half-truths, distortions and outright fabrications.

Read: Rigathi Gachagua alleges plot to poison him with chemical weapons 

False narratives are not just an attack on political trust; they pose real dangers to the public. When abduction claims—whether staged or real—are cynically deployed, they trivialise genuine human rights violations.

The peril lies in what happens next: when a real abduction occurs, skepticism is so deeply ingrained that public outrage is muted. The boy who cried wolf becomes an official playbook.

For a government bent on control, this scenario offers a chilling opportunity—if no one believes real abductions anymore, then State-sponsored disappearances can continue unchecked.

To its credit, the media was right to report Koimburi’s disappearance. High-profile abductions have occurred before.

The Press, by publicising the matter, fulfilled its watchdog duty. Its intent was noble. But in today’s media landscape, good intentions are not enough.

Cynicism—sharpened, strategic and relentless—must guide editorial decisions. In a world where deepfakes and manufactured evidence are becoming the norm, journalists must probe deeper, always.

Read: Chaos rocks Malala DCP rally as police unleash teargas, rubber bullets

In Koimburi’s case: What was the likely motive for the alleged abduction? When former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua claimed the MP was tortured by “professionals”, could journalists have pressed him to elaborate on the mechanics of such torture, especially given his intimate experience within the machinery of government? And when the police dismissed it all as a hoax, did journalists investigate their evidence?

When both State and political actors have become sophisticated manufacturers of alternative realities, journalists must respond with equally sophisticated tools of verification and contextualisation.

Every unverified statement must be called what it truly is: a claim. Let it remain a claim until proven otherwise. That is the only path to reclaiming the media’s most precious asset: credibility.

It is instructive that the Media Council of Kenya’s Code of Conduct for Media Practice starts by defining the word “claim” as “any statement, assertion or representation of fact, opinion, or belief presented as true ... that is subject to verification”.

Read: Inside secret police squad trailing Gachagua

The Koimburi case has damaged journalism far more than it has harmed the political class, who thrive in make-believe. For the Press, credibility is currency, and this incident has devalued it.

Let’s go back to the fundamentals of news reporting: If you didn’t see it, verify it. If you can’t verify it, treat it with suspicion. Always double-check. Always ask one more question.

And keep your skepticism dialled to maximum.

This is indeed a steep learning curve for Kenyan journalism. It is also the right time to reassert its authority as a purveyor of truth.