The High Court, Omtatah, And Why This Ruling Is A Warning Shot To Kenya’s Political Banking Cartels

By Martin Masinde

Another victory has landed squarely in favour of the people. The High Court has once again affirmed what Kenyans have long suspected: that power, when left unchecked, slowly morphs into a network of privilege, impunity, and selective application of the law. The upholding of the ruling in Petition 337 of 2019, Okiya Omtatah Okoiti v National Treasury CS & 5 others, and the invalidation of the unlawful KSh 384.5 million stamp duty exemption granted to NCBA, is more than a tax matter. It is a moment of civic truth. A reminder that even in a captured political climate, the courts can still stand tall when pushed by courageous citizens.

To understand the weight of this win, we must revisit the heart of the matter. When NIC and CBA merged in 2019 to form NCBA, the merger was expected to yield the government KSh 384.5 million in stamp duty. This was not discretionary money. It was lawful revenue owed to the people of Kenya. But because NCBA was closely associated with powerful individuals in the former regime, a miracle happened. A “special” stamp duty exemption appeared via Gazette Notice. Somehow, a private bank was lifted above the law and granted a benefit unavailable to millions of ordinary Kenyans who shoulder every shilling of tax imposed upon them.

This is the kind of abuse that corrodes a democracy from within. It signals that public institutions can be bent, not by reason, but by proximity to power. It tells Kenyans that taxation is not based on equity, principle, or law, but on who you know. And it exposes how governments, past and present, use financial institutions as political extensions of their influence.

Enter Okiya Omtatah. In a country where many complain but few act, he moved to court. What he challenged was not just a fraudulent tax exemption. He challenged the creeping normalisation of state capture in Kenya’s financial oversight ecosystem. And he did so not as a politician seeking power but as The People’s Advocate, insisting that public finance must remain anchored in the Constitution.

The High Court agreed. It ruled that the Treasury’s exemption was unlawful, unconstitutional, and dangerous. It went further to dismiss NCBA’s attempt to delay the ruling’s implementation. The message was clear: no corporation, no matter how connected, should enjoy tax holidays at the expense of citizens.

Omtatah put it even more sharply: granting such exemptions amounts to an unconstitutional reward to private business interests and sets a dangerous precedent. This statement should be tattooed on the conscience of every public official in Kenya. Because if NCBA can be exempted from a lawful obligation of nearly half a billion shillings, what stops the government from waiving billions more for politically aligned companies? What stops powerful banks from developing the confidence to operate above the law? And what stops every new regime from weaponising financial institutions to punish rivals and reward loyalists?

We must not pretend this is an isolated case. The recent tension between Governor Sakaja and the Senate over the transfer of county funds to Sidian Bank is a loud echo of the same pattern. Just as NCBA was favoured for its proximity to power then, Sidian Bank is now seen as the politically convenient bank of the moment. Public funds are being shifted without clear justification. County finances are being exposed to risk by decisions that smell more of politics than prudence. The actors may change, but the script remains stubbornly familiar: banks aligned to power get an unfair slice of public business.

What is emerging is a politically aligned banking ecosystem, institutions that thrive not because of market strength or public trust, but because they are strategically positioned within the country’s political architecture. This is how a nation slowly drifts into oligarchy.

This is why the High Court decision matters far beyond the KSh 384.5 million. It is not just about recovering lost revenue. It is a precedent that strikes at the heart of political patronage masquerading as financial policy. It affirms that state capture can be confronted, and defeated, when citizens are vigilant. And it reminds us that democracy is not only safeguarded at the ballot box, but also in courtrooms where ordinary citizens challenge the misuse of power.

There is something deeply symbolic about this ruling coming at a time when Kenyans are questioning how decisions about public money are made. When families are suffocating under heavy taxation, when unemployment is rising, when service delivery is collapsing, it is insulting to hear that politically aligned banks are quietly receiving exemptions worth hundreds of millions. In such a context, this ruling is not merely a legal victory. It is a moral one. It tells Kenyans that the law still has teeth. It tells political elites that impunity has limits. And it tells citizens that activism is not noise; it is a form of national defence.

We often ask where Kenya’s hope lies. The answer, again and again, is found in people like Okiya Omtatah, citizens who refuse to be cowed, who refuse to be silent, and who insist that public resources must serve the public, not private cartels.

This ruling is a reminder that every time the people fight, the people win. But it is also a warning: unless citizens remain vigilant, unless institutions remain brave, and unless courts remain independent, political capture will continue creeping back, one bank, one gazette notice, one exemption at a time. For today, the people have won. Tomorrow, the struggle continues.