In the next round of hours, a family in Murang’a may lose their daughter – and in a way, no one in the household could ever have imagined, not in a million years.
Margaret Nduta, convicted of drug peddling in the drugs-averse Southeast Asian nation of Vietnam, will be facing the gallows after she was nabbed in July 2023 at the Ho Chi Minh City Airport allegedly smuggling drugs into the country.
Since her arrest, and subsequent conviction, which explicitly laid out her punishment – death -, Kenyans, from the government to the everyday folk on social media, have rallied around her cause, many petitioning the government to intervene and avert her death penalty. The government, too, scrabbled around helplessly, trying to reach Vietnamese authorities and settle the matter more diplomatically.
Virtually everyone was roped in – senior lawyers, political pundits, diplomatic experts, civil society, online activists and that random drunk at the neighbourhood pub.
Despite their best efforts, this has continued to prove an arduous task.
Those in the know have agreed – this is not a simple matter and is not something you can merely sort out with a random transoceanic phone call and sweet governmental nothings.
It all started after a reportedly naive Nduta agreed to transport a suitcase to a woman in Laos, the Vietnamese capital, after receiving some Ksh.168,000 and full travel remuneration from a man only identified as John.
Despite maintaining that she was unaware of the suitcase’s contents, the court found her guilty of drug trafficking on March 6, 2025, and sentenced her to death.
The sentencing immediately knocked off a rapid string of reactions from across Kenya, first, from her family members who turned their home into an ad hoc press lobby, as they spent the following days in a relentless campaign, petitioning the government to intervene and save their daughter while also agreeing to a Kenyan jail sentence, provided they could visit their daughter at ease.
But even as she moaned and launched an impassioned crusade, Nduta’s mother – and her relatives at large – needed to be aware of one crucial fact: Vietnam has the world’s toughest drug laws, and anyone found guilty of possessing or smuggling more than 600 grams of heroin or cocaine or more than 2.5 kilos of methamphetamine faces the death penalty.
For context, Nduta had been busted with two kilos of cocaine.
As the case gathered momentum – and dominated headlines – some Kenyan lawmakers took note of the developments and took the matter right to Parliament, taking their time on the floor to draw attention to the Nduta plight while also catching the attention of the Speaker of the National Assembly Moses Wetangula.
Their appeal was simple and straightforward: The Kenyan government needed to move quickly before Nduta faced the lethal injection, and time was running out.
Nominated MP Sabina Chege stated: “The committee should reach out to the Ministry immediately because this is a death sentence to a Kenyan and the deadline was, I think, yesterday, so I request that this is immediately passed to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs so that they can start handling the matter and especially reaching out to the family. ”
At the same juncture, the Speaker of the National Assembly Moses Wetang’ula, directed the Defence, Intelligence, and Foreign Relations Committee to intervene, directing the Committee’s Vice-Chair Bashir Abdullah to get in touch with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs regarding the case.
“Bashir gets all the statements, gets in touch with the foreign affairs because even if we are on recess, committees are still working; once you have any response, communicate with the questioner, and bring a response to the home on the first sitting day after recess, ” he said.
Even as top government and parliamentary officials rallied around, sending directives and scrambling to make phone calls from one end to the other, still, the Vietnamese appeared unperturbed, seemingly preferring to stick to their decades-long tough drug rules, and ignoring any emerging diplomatic noises, especially from a country in which they didn’t even host an official diplomatic residence.
For clarity, Kenya does not have a diplomatic mission (embassy or consulate) in Vietnam; Kenya’s embassy in Thailand is accredited to Vietnam.
Meanwhile, Vietnam’s embassy in Tanzania is accredited to Kenya, and while relations between Nairobi and Hanoi remain cordial, the two states do not have bilateral agreements.
The complicated consulatory intricacies meant that Kenya was not going to expeditiously sort out the quagmire, as, even as the Foreign Ministry PS was issuing frantic X statements, Nduta’s fate was quickly knocking- and nothing seemed to help matters.
By around 7 pm Sunday, Kenyans had started to properly wake up to the morbid reality of Nduta’s sentencing, with many flooding X with their versions of how the case should have been handled – with others either supporting or flatly denouncing the horrorsome Vietnamese judgement.
Many were now trying to suggest that Nduta should be brought back to Kenya and face the Kenyan judicial system. However, they would be quickly reminded that laws applied differently to separate nations and that a country’s constitutionalism cannot be replaced with the whims of their ally, provided there was enough social media pressure.
Other parliamentarians joined the drive too, taking to their social media platforms – or a funeral – to also pontificate on the matter, and throw in their two cents.
Babu Owino opined: “I want to take this opportunity to ask and request President William Ruto to assist Nduta. This lady committed no crime. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Also joining the chorus was Gatundu North MP Njoroge Kururia who proffered: “My prayers and sympathies go to the family of Magret Nduta. I imagine how her parents and siblings are now traumatized. As a Kenyan who doesn’t have the ability to help Nduta in this situation, I only commit her to God, for his mercies.”
Despite the futile protestations, the Vietnamese judicial arm was obviously not paying attention – and appeared to be hellbent on executing (no pun intended) their ruling, whether or not some disgruntled Kenyans were launching a last-minute missile barrage on X.
As the clock neared 8.30 PM, Kenyan time, the feeling at Nduta’s Murang’a home must have been disconsolate, as her family huddled together, in hushed tones, as they awaited the inevitable – and bleakly looked into a future devoid of comfort, warmth and laughter of a woman they once proudly called their own.
As things stand, Nduta is still alive – but her fate still hangs by a thread of a macabre reality. A lot is still happening; the rallying, the canvassing, the praying, the hoping, the pleading and the worrying.
Will she eventually face the Grim Reaper or will the gods spare her this one time? No one appears to have the answers right now.
But if the Vietnamese stay true to their colours, Kenya may just lose a soul in the most unimaginable way ever.
