Interview With Nyokabi Njogu

Well, you know my name. I’ve worked at KELIN as the Strategic Litigation Lead for almost five years now. I am a human rights advocate and have been in legal practice for 14 years, though my involvement in human rights work actually spans 20 years. My journey began in law school, during my second year, when I got my first job as a research assistant. That role set the foundation for the work I do now, shaping my understanding of human rights and justice.

My first internship was with Justice Kibaya Laibuta, who is now a judge of appeal. Simultaneously, I worked with the Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC) on their biennial Human Rights Report, where I conducted field research and interviews with various organizations. This role deepened my exposure to the realities of human rights work and helped me understand its critical importance.

I like to think of my career as a bridge between law and activism, particularly in feminist strategic litigation. Over the years, I have worked on cases that address structural inequalities, particularly in health rights, land and property rights, and access to justice for marginalized groups, particularly women.

The Feminist Litigation Network (FLN) significantly sharpened my understanding of the systemic flaws within the law and its application. It made me see, in an even clearer way, how law can be both a tool of justice and oppression. One of the major learnings for me was recognizing how defamation laws have been weaponized against women who speak out about their experiences.

The FLN journey helped me see different meanings of justice beyond what the legal text prescribes. It taught me to engage with the law critically and to see the gaps that exist for women seeking justice. The feminist legal methods class we took was especially illuminating, reinforcing the idea that the law is not neutral, it often reinforces existing inequalities. We are using an inherently violent tool to redress violence against women, which is both ironic and frustrating.

Beyond the intellectual growth, FLN gifted me a network of like-minded lawyers who I can call on to discuss cases, refine legal arguments, and provide mutual support. The ethics of care that I learned in FLN also reshaped how I approach my work, making space for self-care and community accountability. Beyond that, I think just the network itself has been such a valuable tool for me, both professionally and personally. I got in there knowing only one person, a friend from school, but over time, I developed a strong support system. Having this network of people I can lean on to help me think through cases has been extremely useful. Those three years we spent together solidified friendships and professional relationships to the extent that now we call each other for support, whether it’s discussing a case or bringing in someone for their expertise.

Honestly, it was a surprise! When you are deep in the work, you don’t always realize that people are watching and appreciating what you do. For me, this award was not just about personal recognition—it was a reaffirmation that the work we do matters. It reminded me that our litigation strategies, advocacy efforts, and commitment to feminist justice are making a difference .

The award also encouraged me to keep pushing forward, despite the setbacks and frustrations that come with human rights work. It’s a reminder that even when we don’t immediately see the impact, the work is contributing to larger systemic shifts.

The FLN journey is intense and will push you in ways you didn’t expect. It requires unlearning, relearning, and being open to questioning your biases. My biggest advice is to stay committed even when it feels overwhelming. The knowledge, skills, and network you gain will shape your career in ways you may not realise immediately.

Movement lawyering is not just about the law; it’s about working with communities, centring their experiences, and recognising that justice is more than just a court ruling. Be patient with yourself, embrace the discomfort of learning new perspectives, and lean on the network for support.

Most importantly, take care of yourself. This work is exhausting, and burnout is real. The ethics of care apply not just to clients but also to ourselves. Give yourself grace and remember that change, especially feminist legal change, is a long-term struggle.