In the span of just a few months, two murders have occurred inside Kenyatta National Hospital (KNH)—Kenya’s largest public referral facility. Both victims were patients. Both deaths were brutal. And both are now linked to the same suspect: Kennedy Kalombotole.

Yet somehow, the hospital has continued operations as though nothing happened.

Now contrast that with Chiromo Hospital Group’s Braeside branch, a private facility in Nairobi. Following the tragic death of Susan Njoki, who was allegedly strangled to death while under their care, the Kenya Medical Practitioners and Dentists Council (KMPDC) swung into action. Within 24 hours, they ordered the hospital to evacuate all patients and cease clinical services until further notice.

Why has KNH, with two murders under its roof and a suspect who had been admitted for months, been allowed to continue as usual—while Chiromo Braeside, with one incident still under investigation, was shut down immediately?

Is justice in Kenya now tiered according to ownership? Public versus private?

Kalombotole, the suspect now in custody, was admitted to KNH in December 2024. On the night of February 6–7, 2025, Gilbert Kinyua Muthoni, 40, was murdered in Ward 7C. Then, on July 17, Edward Maingi Ndegwa—admitted just days earlier—was found with a fatal neck wound in Ward 7B. Investigators discovered blood-stained slippers leading from the victim’s bedside to Kalombotole’s room. A knife wrapped in gloves was also recovered below the ward’s 7th-floor window.

This is not negligence. This is a collapse of institutional vigilance. And still: no closure, no evacuation, no public accountability.

Contrast this with Braeside. The autopsy of Susan Njoki confirmed death by strangulation. Early reports suggest possible involvement of a staff member. This is undoubtedly serious and warrants immediate investigation. But so does murder. Especially when it happens twice, in the same facility, with a suspect who was already under that hospital’s watch.

The core question isn’t whether both cases are tragic—they are. The question is: why are the responses so starkly different?

KMPDC’s letter to Braeside cited concern for patient safety and the need to maintain public confidence. But should that concern not apply with even greater urgency when two murders occur in a public hospital—the very facility entrusted with treating Kenya’s most vulnerable?

The silence is not only loud; it’s dangerous. Public institutions should not be exempt from the same scrutiny and consequences as private ones. Lives lost under medical supervision, whether in Kilimani or Kenyatta, must be treated with equal weight. Equal urgency. Equal outrage.

As Kenyans, we must demand consistency in how authorities respond to institutional failures, especially when those failures result in death. If public hospitals are immune to the same corrective measures applied to private ones, what message are we sending?

That some lives matter more than others?

That justice wears a price tag?

That accountability is negotiable?

The double standard here is not just an oversight—it’s a national disgrace. And unless it is addressed, it will erode what little faith remains in our health systems and the institutions meant to govern them.

Rose Ssali is a Pan African Development Analyst, with expertise in International Law & Diplomacy. She is also Book Review Editor of the International Journal of the Institute for African Renaissance Studies (UNISA)