Mary Wangui, 80, sits on a bench at St John's Catholic Church Korogocho, looking depressed, with veins visibly drawn all over her face. Her eyes redden, and she occasionally pulls the end of her leso to wipe them.

She is assisted to the podium by a group of women, and as she starts to narrate her story on how she lost her seven children, she breaks down and can’t utter a word. Silence rents the air for a moment and, upon regaining some energy with the help of a translator, she says police apprehended two of her children, tied their hands at their back and shot them dead on the pretext that they were thugs.

As if misfortunes had found home in her house, her other son was murdered by unknown people, an incident that caused stress in the family and claimed another son, who died out of shock.

“Earlier I had lost a son due to natural causes, and two others had died of TB. But my hopes were dashed when the three were killed. I have been left in this world all alone. I have tried looking for help on what happened to my children and my only heir, but none has been of help. I have since left it to God,” she said.

Kevin Gitai, 16, on behalf of his mother, who is too emotional to speak, takes up the podium to narrate a story of how his elder brother, who was the sole breadwinner, was executed by police.

On August 5, 2015, he says, his brother Gideon Nyagah, a motorcycle rider, was at his work in 'Raunda', when two customers approached him and wanted to be dropped at Grogan in Kariobangi.

Upon arriving at the destination, there was a confrontation between his brother and his customers on payment, as they declined to pay the agreed fare.

“Police on patrol responded to the confrontation, rounded them up, after a search on the two customers he was ferrying, a toy pistol was recovered. The police opened fire on them and despite pleas from my brother to save them, he too, was, executed,” he said.

Kevin said they have been to Kariobangi police with the mother on several occasions. They also went to Independent Policing Oversight Authority (IPOA), but the institutions have kept tossing them around.

“Even though we lost a breadwinner, I dropped out of school because of fees, and we lost all hope we had in life, all we need is a closure on this case by seeing those officers who executed my brother held to account,” he said, adding that they know the officers who killed them.

Richard Muiruri was only 17 years and had accepted to go to school at Don Bosco Karen to continue with his studies. He wanted to change his life and that of his family, as well as pursue his talent of becoming a reggae musician. But during this year's Easter holiday, that candle of hope was blown out by a police bullet.

“That shooting brought darkness in our life. We had high hopes in him. We knew he was going to change our lives,” Richard's aunt Consolata Waithera said.

She narrates that on that fateful day, Richard, in the company of others, had left Korogocho to go for a reggae show in the CBD, but he failed to come back. The family later learned that he had been shot dead in Ruaraka and the body taken to City Mortuary on claims that he was caught with a knife, which he was using to rob.

“Even if he was a suspect, why did police kill our son, why didn't they arrest him and even jail him, if they had evidence,” she questions.

“His mother (my sister) has never recovered and always locks up in the house crying with no hope of recourse. What pains us a lot is we know the cop who pulled the trigger on our son... look there...” she points at a man she alleges shot their nephew walking in the company of others in the compound of the church, as she chokes with anger and tears roll down her cheeks.

However, area police bosses denied being behind the killings, calling on those with evidence to come forward.

The Star/RAMADHAN RAJAB