Another era has come to an end for our intelligence service. The Special Branch was notorious for its abuse of its powers to not just gather and analyse information but to detain and extract information as well.

The Nyayo House torture chambers are a testament to that abuse. As are the many successful claims lodged against the Kenyan state by those who had the misfortune to pass through those chambers — for simply challenging the Kenyan state.

Reform then was to, first, remove the powers to detain and extract information. And to, second, professionalise what became National Security and Intelligence Service. It was meant to be a modernised intelligence service, fit for purpose, ushering in a brand, new day.

No more staff whose educational qualifications and skills-sets came solely from military or police training institutions. Graduates and post-graduates were sought out from a range of fields. It was meant to be a modernised intelligence service, fit for purpose, ushering in a brand, new day.

The withdrawal of the powers to detain and extract information implied, however, that the NSIS would have to better coordinate with the police — particularly criminal investigations.

The NSIS was meant to keep tabs, in a preventive sense. The Criminal Investigations Department was meant to pick up its baton.

And nobody was meant to waste their time any more on the repression of legitimate dissent. All of this was then meant to be supported by anchoring security sector reform in the new Constitution.

What happened?

For starters, time-wasting on the repression of legitimate dissent crept back in. Which brings us to the bigger question — as to co-ordination between the now National Intelligence Service, the CID and, given its increased deployment within Kenyan borders, the Kenya military.

Clearly, that isn’t happening either. Again, two cases suffice to make the point — Westgate and Mpeketoni. The mutual blame-game and finger-pointing has been appalling and not confidence-inspiring.

The NIS says it gave ample warning in both instances. The police says its warnings were so broad as to not be ‘actionable.’ The military undeniably ran in roughshod in the immediate aftermath of both instances.

Rumours fly as to the personality clashes between the Executive and the NIS, between the NIS on the one hand and the police and military on the other. Rumours fly too as to the love-in between the Executive and the military.

Meanwhile, all the public cares about is why these two instances were not prevented, why there has been no accountability for both their non-prevention and the unbelievable ways in which they were handled. All the public cares about is why we are not safe.

It is unclear how the resignation of Major-General Michael Gichangi resolves either the counterclaims or the running roughshod.

Structure was ostensibly sorted out with the raft of legal and constitutional changes these institutions have undergone.

Agency and personality clashes alone do not suffice to credibly explain what exactly happened with coordination in both instances—or how and why the military is so often now being deployed internally.

It is a new era at the NIS. Let us see whether the drift back to Special Branch tendencies is halted and whether NIS stops wasting its time on bogey (wo)men. Let us see whether coordination improves. Let us see whether Gichangi’s departure was a form of genuine accountability or just the serving up to us of yet another sacrificial lamb.

L. Muthoni Wanyeki is Amnesty International’s regional director for East Africa, covering East Africa, the Horn and the Great Lakes.