Why Constitution needs a Legal profession rooted in social justice

The Constitution of Kenya is often described as one of Africa’s most progressive charters, a document born out of struggle, sacrifice, and the people’s collective yearning for justice. It envisions a society governed by equity, human rights, and the rule of law. Yet, for this vision to truly live, the legal profession, the guardians of justice, must embody the Constitution’s transformative spirit. Kenya urgently needs a legal profession that believes in social engineering, one that sees law not as a tool for privilege. To the contrary, as an instrument for reshaping society toward fairness and inclusion.

Law, as the late American jurist Roscoe Pound argued, is a form of social engineering, a means of balancing conflicting interests for the greater social good. In Kenya, this philosophy is not merely academic. It lies at the heart of our constitutional promise. Article 10 demands adherence to national values such as human dignity, equity, and social justice. Article 159 vests judicial authority in the people, emphasising that justice shall not be delayed or denied on technicalities. And yet, these noble principles risk remaining hollow rhetoric unless the legal fraternity commits to advancing them beyond courtroom formality.

A strong legal profession is the lifeblood of a constitutional democracy. Lawyers are not just interpreters of statutes; they are moral architects of the Republic. In times of political turmoil or social decay, it is often the courage of advocates that safeguards freedom and checks excess power. The Constitution envisioned lawyers as custodians of public interest, capable of defending the weak, questioning authority, and promoting equality before the law. But somewhere along the way, the Kenyan Bar has drifted dangerously close to corporatism, lawyering for profit rather than for purpose.

Public interest litigation (PIL) has historically provided the moral compass for societies seeking transformation. From the civil rights movement in the United States to the anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa, public interest lawyers have expanded constitutional freedoms and held governments accountable. In Kenya, PIL has played a pivotal role in shaping governance and protecting human rights. The cases that challenged police brutality, corruption, gender inequality, and environmental destruction were not merely litigated as legal disputes, they were acts of civic renewal following a particular course in mind.

Take, for instance, the landmark case of Mitu-Bell Welfare case, where the Supreme Court affirmed the right to housing for informal settlers. Or the Okiya Omtatah petitions, which have consistently tested executive accountability. These cases underscore that justice a lived reality made possible when advocates choose to litigate for principle rather than profit. When lawyers take up cases on behalf of the voiceless, they breathe life into constitutional promises.

The fight for social justice through law did not begin in 2010. It traces its lineage to Kenya’s anti-colonial movement when lawyers and activists used the legal system often the same one that oppressed them, to challenge injustice. Figures like Pio Gama Pinto, Argwings Kodhek and Achieng’ Oneko stood as early examples of legal resistance against the colonial regime. They understood that freedom was not simply the absence of chains, but the establishment of structures that protect human dignity. Later, during the single-party era, brave advocates such as Gibson Kamau Kuria, Martha Karua, Gitobu Imanyara and Paul Muite took up the mantle of defending human rights, often at great personal risk. Their defiance in the courts helped lay the groundwork for Kenya’s second liberation.

The Constitution is a covenant born from struggle, a promise that the injustices of the past will not repeat themselves. But such a promise is only as strong as those who defend it. Today, as corruption seeps through public institutions, as the cost of justice rises beyond the reach of ordinary citizens, and as political power threatens to erode judicial independence, the legal profession must ask itself, are we still the guardians of justice, or have we become its merchants?

Social justice lawyering requires courage, empathy, and a vision of society that extends beyond self-interest. It demands that young advocates entering the profession be guided by ethics, public service, and constitutional fidelity. Law schools must nurture not only legal reasoning but also moral reasoning, producing graduates who see every case as a potential to restore balance, not merely to win arguments. The Law Society of Kenya, as the profession’s moral compass, must reassert its role as a public watchdog, not a passive guild. It must champion pro bono work, defend judicial independence, and promote civic education to empower citizens with knowledge of their rights.

Kenya’s future depends on whether its legal profession embraces its constitutional destiny. The framers of the 2010 Constitution imagined a new republic, one where the rule of law is a lived reality. They placed immense trust in the legal fraternity to defend that dream. Every generation of lawyers must now decide whether to be mere technicians of legality or agents of justice. The choice will determine whether the Constitution remains a living document or becomes a relic of forgotten ideals.

The time has come for the legal profession to reclaim its historic mission as the conscience of the nation. Just as the lawyers of the independence era fought to unshackle Kenya from colonial domination, today’s lawyers must unshackle society from inequality, corruption, and impunity. The Constitution demands no less. This is the very essence of lawyering.