On December 10, 2025, Chief Justice Martha Koome delivered a sobering address at the closing ceremony of the Second Edition of the High Court Annual Human Rights Summit in Nairobi. Her words carried a sense of urgency and gravity, as she warned that Kenya’s hard-won constitutional gains risk remaining little more than ink on paper unless the nation recommits itself to ethical leadership, institutional integrity, and the courage to uphold justice—even when it is unpopular.
"Jurisprudential victories have not always become lived realities," Koome told the assembled judges, legal professionals, and civil society representatives, according to Eastleigh Voice. Her assessment was clear-eyed and unsparing: despite 15 years of globally respected human rights jurisprudence, many of the High Court’s most celebrated rulings have yet to transform the day-to-day lives of ordinary Kenyans. From extrajudicial killings and enforced disappearances to homelessness, entrenched inequality, and a rising tide of femicide and gender-based violence, the country continues to grapple with serious human rights violations. "These are not isolated incidents; they are structural failures rooted in governance gaps," she said.
The summit’s theme, "Upholding Human Dignity: Ethical Leadership as a Pillar of Constitutionalism," underscored Koome’s central argument: that the realization of constitutional rights depends not only on the letter of the law but also on the moral backbone of those entrusted to interpret and enforce it. Ethical leadership, she emphasized, is more than personal virtue; it requires institutional courage—the willingness to do what is constitutionally right, even in the face of opposition or controversy.
Koome reminded her audience that, in adopting the 2010 Constitution, Kenyans made a deliberate choice to ground their nation’s future on values historically denied to many: human dignity, equality, social justice, inclusivity, and the protection of the marginalized. The High Court, she said, is where these abstract ideals are tested against concrete human struggles—where stateless children, victims of state violence, and marginalized groups come seeking recognition and protection.
According to Koome, the High Court has played a pivotal role in expanding the scope of rights in Kenya, enforcing socio-economic rights such as housing, safeguarding the rights of the accused, and advancing protections for children, women, persons with disabilities, and other vulnerable groups. The Court has also upheld digital rights and served as a crucial check on both the Executive and Legislature, ensuring that constitutional principles are not merely aspirational but actionable.
Yet, as Koome pointed out, these advances are fragile. "If all Kenyans are to enjoy the freedoms our Constitution guarantees, we must confront these challenges with honesty, courage, and a united resolve." She called on judges and all public officers to ensure that Chapter Six of the Constitution—often described as Kenya’s ethical backbone—remains vibrant and enforceable. Public power, she stressed, is a trust that must be exercised with humility and devotion to the public good.
"Constitutions cannot sustain themselves," Koome warned. "They require men and women of character—across the Judiciary, government, civil society and the citizenry—who are deeply committed to service and human dignity. Without this human infrastructure, our constitutional text is but ink on paper." Her remarks serve as both a rallying cry and a caution: the promise of the Constitution is only as strong as the collective will to uphold it.
While Kenya debates the gap between constitutional ideals and lived realities, a parallel conversation is unfolding in India, where the independence of the judiciary faces its own set of challenges. An opinion piece published on December 11, 2025, in News18, responded to the controversy surrounding calls for the impeachment of Justice GR Swaminathan following his December 1 judgment in the Tirupparankundram Deepam case. The piece, penned by former Judge Kannan, argued that impeachment is a constitutional measure reserved for the rarest breaches—proven misbehaviour, corruption, or incapacity—not for mere disagreement with judicial reasoning.
"Impeachment is the constitutional equivalent of a seismic button. It is not meant to be pressed in a gust of disagreement, nor waved about as a talisman of ideological displeasure," the article stated. The author warned that the misuse, or even the performative invocation, of impeachment as a political weapon can bruise the very institution it claims to protect. Judicial independence, he argued, is not destroyed in dramatic blows but through incremental erosions—when judges begin to second-guess the political consequences of their rulings, fearing retribution rather than feeling free to interpret the law according to their conscience and the Constitution.
The Indian Constitution, through Articles 124(4) and 217, crafts impeachment as a "carefully guarded gate," the piece noted. Parliamentary history reinforces this high threshold: the rare cases of Justices V. Ramaswami and Soumitra Sen turned on concerns of financial impropriety and ethical breaches, never on mere judicial reasoning. The author emphasized that disagreement with a judgment belongs to the domain of appeals, reviews, and academic debate—not to the realm of impeachment.
Justice Swaminathan’s December 1 judgment, whatever its interpretive merits or cultural sensitivities, was described as a judicial act squarely within his constitutional duty. The calls for impeachment, the article argued, represent a category error—a leap from disagreement to delegitimization. The judiciary, it said, survives on dialogue, not dogma; to threaten impeachment for interpretive choices is to substitute judicial contest with political coercion.
"Judicial independence is often described in textbooks as a structural feature. In practice, it is more delicate, akin to a flame that needs shielding from the winds of passionate politics," the author wrote. When impeachment becomes an instrument of ideological retribution, judges may hesitate to address politically sensitive issues with the candor that justice demands. The courtroom, in turn, risks becoming another arena for political brinkmanship rather than a sanctuary for reasoned adjudication.
The opinion piece concluded with a call for restraint and constitutional maturity. Critique of judgments should take the form of appeals, academic rebuttals, or public discourse—not impeachment threats. "Let impeachment remain where the Constitution placed it: at the far end of the spectrum, reserved for the gravest lapses, to be invoked sparingly and solemnly. Anything else would be a disservice to the intellectual enterprise of judging and the institutional dignity of the courts."
Across both Kenya and India, these recent events highlight the delicate balance required to protect constitutional gains and judicial independence. Whether the challenge is bridging the gap between landmark rulings and everyday realities, or shielding judges from political intimidation, the message is clear: the rule of law depends on ethical leadership, institutional courage, and a shared commitment to justice. Without these, constitutions lose their power—and the promise of justice remains unfulfilled.
