He no longer wants his old desk. He wants the cheque.
Former Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua has executed a stunning legal about-turn that has reshaped Kenya’s most explosive impeachment battle. In a packed Milimani courtroom on Monday, his lawyers abandoned the fight for reinstatement and pivoted hard toward a single, gleaming target: compensation.
Not just any compensation. A full five-year term’s worth of salary, allowances, retirement benefits, and unspecified damages—backdated to 2022 and projected through 2027.
The move transforms the case from a political resurrection bid into a high-stakes financial war. And the numbers are jaw-dropping.
What a Retired DP Actually Gets
Under the Retirement Benefits (Deputy President and Designated State Officers) Act, a former DP doesn’t just walk away with a handshake. They walk away with a kingdom.
Monthly pension: 80% of the last salary. A sitting DP earns roughly Sh1.2 million gross per month (basic Sh736,313 + Sh300,000 house allowance + other perks).
Lump sum payment: One year’s salary for each term served.
Vehicles: Two saloon cars (2000cc max) + one four-wheel drive (3000cc max), replaced every four years.
Fuel allowance: 15% of current monthly salary.
Medical cover: Full coverage, including overseas treatment for the ex-DP, spouse, and dependent children.
Staff entourage: Two drivers, personal assistant, accountant, secretary, two housekeepers, two cooks, two gardeners, two cleaners.
Security: Armed guards upon request.
Diplomatic passport for the officeholder and spouse.
VIP airport lounge access and a fully equipped office with vehicle maintenance covered.
Multiply that across the remaining years of a five-year term (2022–2027), and Gachagua’s claim easily surpasses Sh120 million in direct and indirect benefits—not counting the unspecified damages his lawyers are demanding.
From “Reinstate Me” to “Pay Me”
Appearing before a three-judge bench comprising Justices Eric Ogolla, Anthony Mrima, and Frida Mugambi, Gachagua’s lead counsel, Paul Muite, drew a hard line in the sand.
“This case is no longer about the impeachment process,” Muite said. “It is about compensation for an unlawful removal from office.”
The respondents—including the Attorney-General, Speakers of Parliament, and even Deputy President Kithure Kindiki as an interested party—did not oppose the amendment. That silence spoke volumes.
Muite framed the former DP’s ordeal not as a political tragedy, but as a personal grievance against a broken constitutional process. He argued that public participation was a façade: a Bomas of Kenya event presided over by select ODM MPs who declared it “for invited guests only.”
“A mockery of effective public participation under the Constitution,” Muite charged.
‘Malicious Compliance’: The Jesus Christ Analogy
But it was lawyer Elisha Ongoya who delivered the morning’s most unforgettable moment.
Standing before the bench, Ongoya invoked the names of Sir Thomas More, Socrates, and Jesus Christ—figures he said were subjected to trials with predetermined outcomes.
“One element characterises these trials,” Ongoya said. “They are carried out with malicious compliance. The motions that the first petitioner was taken through at the National Assembly and Senate passed the test of malicious compliance.”
He argued that the Senate imposed impossible timelines, limited cross-examination of witnesses, and forced the process at “breakneck speed”—including transmitting the National Assembly’s resolution at night.
“Normal working hours are daylight hours,” Muite had earlier asked. “How is it that the National Assembly could not even wait for the next day?”
On the infamous “shareholding” remarks that partly triggered the impeachment, Ongoya told the court those were political rhetoric tied to the Kenya Kwanza coalition agreement—not a constitutional violation.
“There was no intention to incite,” he said.
0.4% Public Participation? That’s No Participation
Lawyer Tom Macharia delivered the dagger on public participation.
“The National Assembly said it received 200,000 reviews out of 50 million Kenyans,” he said. “That is 0.4 per cent. That means there was zero public participation.”
He added that only eight public memoranda were received countrywide. Eight.
“The decision-maker failed to make a fair decision,” Macharia said.
Lawyer Dudley Ochiel went further, arguing that the Senate Speaker misled the House on the formation of an impeachment committee. “No democratic country processes an impeachment motion within 24 hours,” he said. “This was a sham.”
The Backdrop: A Removal in Chaos
The saga began in October 2024, when the National Assembly passed an impeachment motion against Gachagua on 11 charges—including gross misconduct, tribal discrimination, and violation of constitutional duties. He denied all.
The Senate upheld five charges on October 17, 2024, removing him from office while he was hospitalised and unable to defend himself.
Within days, President William Ruto nominated Prof. Kithure Kindiki as his replacement—a move briefly frozen by court orders before being lifted.
Now, more than 40 consolidated petitions later, the three-judge bench must decide: Was the impeachment constitutional? And if not, does Gachagua walk away with a taxpayer-funded fortune?
The next hearing is scheduled for May 7