From theatre to Kamiti: How second-hand phone turned neurosurgeon to murder convict

For years, Dr Clement Munyao Katiku lived a life defined by precision, intellect, and service as a senior neurosurgeon at Kenyatta National Hospital.

The medic spent his days navigating the delicate complexity of the human brain, saving lives through intricate surgical procedures.

“I spent years operating on the most delicate parts of the human brain. My hands were trusted in the operating theatre. My mind was sharp. My life was dedicated to healing,” he says.

Today, his reality is starkly different as Dr Manyao cools his heels in the cold confines of a cell at Kamiti Maximum Security Prison, where he is serving a 25-year sentence for a murder he insists he did not commit.

His story, from a medical specialist to a murder convict, is one that raises hard questions around everyday hidden risks, trust, evidence and justice.

Munyao says what seemed to be an innocent purchase of a mobile phone turned out to be a grave mistake for him. 

In 2005, Munyao says, he bought a second-hand mobile phone for Sh2,000 from a mortuary attendant he knew at the hospital.

He recalls having no pressing desire to buy a phone at that particular moment, but was pushed by the cheap cost of the gadget, which he purchased as a gift for his daughter, a student at Moi University at the time.

“It was affordable, nothing fancy, just a functional handset I picked up from a mortuary attendant I knew at the hospital. I bought it for my daughter,” he recalls.

The phone passed from his daughter to her boyfriend, moving through what he describes as “a chain of innocent hands.” But unknown to him, the device carried a dark history.

It had once belonged to Moses Gituma, a senior official at the Central Bank of Kenya and brother to former Police Commissioner Mathew Iteere.

Gituma had been brutally robbed and murdered in 2005 in Nairobi’s Garden Estate area. Among the items stolen during the attack was the phone that would later become the central piece of evidence in Munyao’s case.

Gituma’s killers took his belongings, including that phone, which somehow made its way through the underground market, landing in the hands of the mortuary attendant who sold it to the neurosurgeon.

“Police were tracking the stolen device as part of their investigation. When they traced it, they arrested my daughter’s boyfriend. He pointed to her. She, in turn, led them to me,” narrated Munyao.

No direct evidence

Despite his cooperation with investigators and his explanation that he had unknowingly purchased the phone, Munyao was arrested and charged with murder.

“The chain ended on me, hadi wa leo,sijui mbona (I have never understood how). I told them about the mortician, but that didn’t matter. The prosecution’s case rested heavily on the phone—its possession, the chain leading back to me. No eyewitnesses were tying me to the crime scene. No fingerprints on any weapon. No confession. No direct evidence of robbery or violence from my side. Yet in the eyes of the law, “ukipatikana na evidence, ni wewe.” Circumstantial proof was enough,” he said.

The prosecution built its case around the chain of possession of the phone, presenting it as circumstantial evidence linking Munyao to the crime.

Court records show that Munyao and his co-accused, Anthony Muthie Mati, were convicted of committing murder contrary to Section 203 as read with Section 204 of the Penal Code in Nairobi High Court Criminal Case No. 15 of 2010.

The prosecution argued that they were part of a gang that attacked Gituma at his home on October 23, 2005, inflicting fatal injuries.

The attack itself was brutal. According to court findings, assailants entered the victim’s home, confined his family for hours, and later assaulted him upon arrival, leaving him with severe injuries from which he later died.

Initially sentenced to 30 years in prison in 2009, Munyao’s legal journey took a dramatic turn when he appealed the decision. The Court of Appeal of Kenya upheld the conviction but substituted the sentence with the death penalty.

Like many others on death row, his sentence was later commuted to life imprisonment following presidential clemency and changes in sentencing policy.

“That was over 20 years ago. I’ve been in Kamiti Maximum Security Prison ever since, serving time for a crime I maintain I had nothing to do with. The mortuary attendant who sold me the phone was never charged. The real killers were never fully brought to justice in connection with this trail,” he states. 

During the resentencing hearing, Munyao appeared in person and submitted a written mitigation. While expressing remorse, he maintained that he had no involvement in the murder.

“I have tried to reform myself while in prison. If given a second chance, I will use the skills and knowledge I have gained during incarceration to serve the community,” he told the court.

He also highlighted the personal toll of his imprisonment, including the loss of close family members in a tragic accident and the disruption of his children’s education.

At the time, he was 65 years old and suffering from multiple health conditions, including high blood pressure, diabetes, chronic peptic ulcers, and gum infection.

Despite acknowledging signs of rehabilitation, the court emphasised the gravity of the crime.

Paralegal

“The crime they committed was serious. They took five to six hours waiting for the deceased in his own house in order to undertake the heinous act without developing a change of mind,” Justice Ngenye-Macharia ruled.

For Munyao, prison life has been a continuation of service, albeit in a different form. He has trained as a paralegal and assists fellow inmates with legal matters, while also providing informal medical care.

“In here, I haven’t wasted away. I help fellow inmates with their legal papers and still practice medicine informally,” he says.

Yet the cost remains immense. He speaks of a life upended—his career halted, his freedom lost, and years with his family gone.

“I lost my career, my freedom, my family time, everything. But I hold on to hope,” he says.

His case has sparked broader debate about the reliance on circumstantial evidence in Kenya’s judicial system, particularly in cases involving mobile phone tracking.

Critics argue that possession of stolen property does not necessarily equate to participation in a crime, while others maintain that such evidence can establish critical links in complex investigations.

Munyao’s sympathisers point to the absence of direct evidence, such as eyewitness testimony, fingerprints, or a confession as a gap that raises questions about the conviction.

A graduate with an MBChB from the University of Nairobi in 1980, he earned a Master’s in Human Medicine and Pathology there in 1987, and went on to complete a Master’s in Forensic Medicine in Scotland in 1991.

For now, he remains behind bars, serving his sentence while holding on to the hope that one day his version of events will be fully understood.

“Be careful with second-hand phones. A small decision can change a life forever,” he warns.