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Inside the KBL–JILK dispute: whistleblower claims, alleged payment trails, and reported DCI silence. Why the identity hunt risks justice and arbitration credibility.

Nairobi — February 17, 2026.
There is a familiar script whenever powerful interests are confronted with allegations that threaten reputations, money, or both: don’t interrogate the evidence—interrogate the person who brought it forward.
That is the spectacle now unfolding around the arbitration dispute between Kenya Breweries Limited (KBL) and JILK Construction Company Limited, where KBL has filed a constitutional petition alleging a compromised arbitration process and seeking court intervention.
Instead of a hard national conversation about whether arbitration in Kenya can be weaponised through alleged misconduct, the loudest demand in the public arena has been for the identity of a whistleblower.
That demand is not accountability. It is deterrence.
Because if this playbook succeeds—if the lesson becomes “expose the whistleblower first, examine the allegations later”—then the next insider who sees wrongdoing will do what self-preservation requires: stay silent.
KBL’s court filings do not present this as gossip or online whisper. They present an allegation chain with names, timelines, and stated investigative steps.
In the petition, KBL states that on 3 July 2022 it received “new and alarming information” via its whistleblowing platform, SpeakUp Web, alleging “bias, corruption, and conflicts of interest” implicating the 1st and 2nd respondents.
The petition outlines allegations including:
a prior working relationship between the arbitrator (through Buildnett) and JILK’s leadership (including Sammy Maina Kamau)
alleged frequent visits to JILK offices at Tatu City and “secret collaboration” to ensure JILK wins, including claims of sharing proceeds
allegations that payments were made as arbitration continued
allegations of communications and meetings between the arbitrator and counsel during the pendency of the arbitration
These remain allegations—until tested and proved or disproved. But they are not vague. They are the kind of claims that can be verified or demolished with documents, banking trails, call logs, and custody-of-records.
So why is the country being pushed toward a personality hunt?
The public chorus treats anonymity as the scandal. But the filings show KBL says it did not merely read an anonymous message and run to social media. It says it filed a formal complaint to the DCI on 26 July 2022, asked for urgent investigations, provided documents, and recorded a statement.
That is the institutional path.
Then the file turns sharp.
KBL states that despite doing this, it received no update from the DCI, prompting follow-ups—including one on 12 September 2022—with “no response.”
KBL says it escalated to the Commission on Administrative Justice (CAJ) on 25 October 2022 due to DCI silence, and CAJ wrote to DCI seeking an update.
KBL says it wrote again on 18 September 2024 seeking an update, and still got none.
If these statements are accurate, the real scandal is not the whistleblower’s anonymity.
It is that a complainant says it followed the law, engaged the investigative agency, and then met a wall of silence.
KBL’s affidavit goes further: it claims that during follow-up visits, it was informally informed that DCI obtained court orders in Kiambu Miscellaneous Application E385 of 2022 to investigate bank accounts at Equity Bank and Co-operative Bank for the period January 2019 to July 2022.
KBL says it was also informally advised that DCI discovered payments of KES 174,000 and KES 150,000 from JILK to the arbitrator.
KBL further says DCI obtained a court order to access call logs, and the logs revealed frequent communication between the arbitrator, Sammy Maina Kamau, and a junior counsel on record, Ms. Phyllis Njoroge.
Then comes the line that turns this from a private dispute into a national integrity question:
KBL says it is “surprising” that despite this “damning evidence,” the DCI “has refused to provide a formal update on the outcome or progress” or take appropriate action.
That claim, sworn in court, creates unavoidable questions for Kenya’s accountability ecosystem:
If DCI truly gathered this evidence, what is the file status?
If DCI disputes this narrative, where is the correction on record?
If investigations are ongoing, why does the complainant say it has been left “in the dark”?
A republic cannot run on “informal updates.” Either there is an investigation with outcomes, or there is institutional drift.
The petition insists arbitration is not a private island insulated from constitutional scrutiny—especially where misconduct is alleged.
KBL frames the complained conduct as so extreme that continued participation would amount to “acquiescence” in what it calls an “illegal and prima facie criminal enterprise.”
That language is deliberate: it signals KBL is asking the court to treat this not as a normal commercial disagreement but as an integrity rupture.
And KBL’s prayer for relief is equally direct. It seeks, among other remedies:
declarations that the arbitrator violated constitutional rights
mandamus compelling DCI to investigate and provide all documents and information obtained
certiorari to quash the appointment, arbitration proceedings, and any orders/awards made
prohibition restraining continuation of the arbitration
orders compelling AAK to establish transparent mechanisms aligned to international best practice
That matters because “finality” is a tool. In clean hands it brings efficiency. In dirty hands it becomes laundering: publish an award first, then dare the victim to climb the narrow, technical hill of setting it aside.
The affidavit alleges a payment of KES 150,000 received “just three weeks” before the arbitrator’s appointment, and calls the timing “highly suspicious.”
It further alleges that the appointment process and alleged failure to disclose a relationship were “highly irregular.”
KBL argues that neither the Arbitration Act nor the appointing body provides effective mechanisms to compel disclosure by a “recalcitrant arbitrator,” leaving the High Court as “the only avenue.”
That is not just a case argument. It is an indictment of a system design flaw:
If parties cannot compel timely disclosure and credible oversight at the institutional level, then constitutional litigation becomes the emergency exit—and we should expect more of it, not less.
If the public lesson becomes “anonymous equals malicious,” then the chilling effect is predictable. The next insider, employee, or professional who sees alleged wrongdoing will not come forward, because anonymity—the primary safety mechanism—is being treated as a crime.
Yet the petition itself frames the whistleblower allegations as “critical new evidence” that was not available during earlier recusal attempts and that necessitated criminal investigation.
So the public demand to unmask the source does not strengthen justice. It weakens it—because it raises the cost of speaking up while lowering the pressure to answer the allegations.
This dispute will be decided in court. But the accountability questions are already here, and they belong to the public:
DCI accountability:
If KBL’s affidavit is accurate, why has DCI not provided a formal update despite multiple follow-ups and even CAJ involvement?
Evidence custody and transparency:
If court orders were obtained to access bank accounts and call logs, what is the procedural status of those investigations—and what safeguards exist to prevent evidence from “going cold”?
Arbitration oversight:
If institutional mechanisms cannot compel disclosure and handle complaints effectively, what is AAK’s accountability to users of arbitration?
Public interest vs. elite theatre:
Why is the national conversation being steered toward the whistleblower’s face instead of the sworn allegations that can be proven true or false?
In its petition, KBL says it has “no other forum” and needs the High Court to intervene to “reaffirm the rule of law.”
That is the point the public must grasp: if allegations of compromised process are met with intimidation and identity-hunting, the long-term casualty is not one case. It is the credibility of dispute resolution—and the safety of anyone who dares to report wrongdoing.
Kenya does not need louder voices demanding names.
Kenya needs louder demands for institutional answers.
Note: This article is based on allegations and claims contained in court filings dated 1 December 2024. Allegations remain unproven until determined by the court and/or concluded by investigative agencies.
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