Kenya's Police Uniform Saga: Why Reform Keeps Stopping at the Fabric

President William Ruto is expected on Friday, August 28, to unveil another new uniform for the Kenya Police Service at the National Police Service Training College in Kiganjo.

From Monday, August 31, General Duty officers are expected to begin wearing the new outfit, with more than 6,000 graduating constables set to debut the uniform during their pass-out parade.

Inspector General of Police Douglas Kanja has described the change as a potential “force multiplier” for boosting officers' morale.

Yet the latest uniform overhaul raises a larger question: why does changing what police officers wear appear easier than changing how the institution operates?

The planned rollout would mark the third major change to the General Duty police uniform in less than a decade, renewing debate over whether Kenya's police reforms are addressing institutional problems or repeatedly focusing on highly visible symbols.

From Blue to Hybrid and Back Again

Kenya's police uniform underwent a major transformation in 2018 under former President Uhuru Kenyatta.

The administration introduced an all-blue outfit as part of broader reforms surrounding the merger of the Kenya Police and Administration Police into the National Police Service.

The uniform was intended to improve visibility and create greater consistency across the newly integrated service.

The design, however, did not last.

In February 2023, then-Inspector General Japhet Koome introduced a hybrid uniform featuring a light-blue shirt and navy-blue trousers. The design was subsequently subjected to public participation.

According to the National Police Service, participants largely rejected the navy-blue design and expressed a preference for returning to an earlier uniform.

Three years later, the service says it is implementing that feedback.

The latest uniform has also been presented as fulfilling President Ruto's pre-election commitment to introduce a more “modest” police uniform.

The result is a striking cycle: a major General Duty uniform change in 2018, another in 2023 and a fresh rollout in 2026 with each accompanied by arguments about morale, visibility, modesty or public preference.

The Reform Report Still Waiting

The contrast between the attention given to police uniforms and deeper institutional reforms is difficult to ignore.

On August 18, 2026, retired Chief Justice David Maraga, who chaired the National Taskforce on Police Reforms, gave President Ruto seven days to release the taskforce's complete and unedited report or face its publication by the former Chief Justice.

The taskforce submitted its report to the President on November 16, 2023.

Nearly three years later, the recommendations remain unpublished and, according to Maraga, unimplemented.

Maraga has said the report contains proposals aimed at strengthening the constitutional independence of the National Police Service and addressing systemic brutality and impunity.

In his letter to the President, he also raised allegations of what he described as “organized political violence, goonism and partisan policing” in areas including Homa Bay, Keumbu and Ol Kalou, as well as incidents involving churches in Kisumu, Nairobi and Witima.

He characterised the alleged pattern as evidence of what he called the “State Capture of the National Police Service.”

Maraga further cited constitutional provisions governing the independence and accountability of the police service, arguing that the National Police Service is intended to operate independently rather than serve the interests of any individual, including the President.

Against this backdrop, the timing of another uniform unveiling inevitably invites questions about the government's priorities in police reform.

A new uniform is visible, easily photographed and immediately recognisable. Institutional reform is slower, more complex and potentially disruptive to existing centres of power.

When Reform Becomes a Matter of Pockets

The focus on appearance is not limited to the uniform itself.

Since April 2024, the National Assembly's Administration and Security Committee has been considering the Bribery Amendment Bill sponsored by Bomachoge Borabu MP Obadiah Barongo.

Among its proposals is an unusual attempt to tackle corruption among traffic police officers by removing pockets from their uniforms.

The proposed legislation would also require CCTV cameras at designated traffic zones to create a record of interactions between police officers and motorists.

The Parliamentary Budget Office has estimated that the camera rollout alone could cost about KSh. 8 billion.

Yet more than two years after the Bill began its parliamentary journey, it has not progressed beyond committee consideration.

The proposal illustrates the wider challenge: corruption cannot be solved solely by changing the physical design of a uniform.

Removing a pocket may make it harder to conceal cash, but it does not by itself address weak internal accountability, inadequate enforcement, disciplinary failures or the broader culture that allows bribery to persist.

The Gachagua Paradox

Kenya's recent political history adds another dimension to the debate.

In 2022, while campaigning as William Ruto's running mate, then-Mathare MP and later Deputy President Rigathi Gachagua criticised the treatment of rank-and-file police officers under the previous administration.

He promised that a Kenya Kwanza government would restore dignity to the police service.

Gachagua became Deputy President in September 2022 before being impeached in October 2024.

Since leaving office, he has become a vocal critic of the National Police Service, particularly over allegations concerning the deployment of officers during political activities.

In late 2025, Gachagua accused police officers under Kanja of providing “tactical cover” and “back-up” to armed groups allegedly disrupting his political rallies and church events.

His criticism mirrors, in some respects, Maraga's more recent concerns about political influence over the police service.

The contrast is revealing: promises to improve the dignity and welfare of police officers have increasingly collided with a larger unresolved question about who ultimately controls the institution and how independently it exercises its constitutional mandate.

The Uniform Has Always Been Political

Police uniforms in Kenya carry a history that goes beyond appearance.

During colonial rule, police clothing was part of a broader system of racial hierarchy. African constables were visually distinguished within a force structured around colonial authority.

Following independence, the introduction of a common police uniform represented more than a change of clothing. It helped dismantle visible distinctions associated with the colonial order and symbolised the creation of a national institution serving an independent state.

That history matters because it demonstrates that uniforms can be meaningful instruments of institutional change.

The problem is what happens when uniform changes become substitutes for deeper reform.

Six decades after independence, repeatedly changing the appearance of officers does little to resolve questions surrounding police independence, accountability, political neutrality, misconduct and public trust.

Symbols Matter But So Does Substance

There are legitimate reasons to improve police uniforms.

Comfort, durability, visibility and officer identification are practical operational concerns. The 2023 public participation exercise also reportedly raised concerns about removable name tags, which can make it difficult for members of the public to identify individual officers.

Those issues deserve attention.

But a police service cannot rebuild public trust through clothing alone.

The more consequential reforms concern command structures, accountability, disciplinary mechanisms, operational independence and protection of citizens' rights.

That is why the fate of the Maraga taskforce report may ultimately matter more than the colour, cut or design of the latest uniform.

The question Kenya should therefore ask is not whether police officers deserve a better uniform. They do.

It is whether a new uniform represents meaningful institutional reform or simply the most visible part of a reform agenda that remains unfinished.

For a country still awaiting a major police reform report nearly three years after it was submitted, the symbolism may be hard to miss: the uniforms keep changing, while the deeper questions remain in the drawer.