Introduction
Kenyan legal scholar and social justice advocate Milka Wahu caught up with Aristid Banyurwahe while visiting Bayreuth. She was in town for Law and Belonging as a Relational Practice, a conference celebrating five years of the Chair of African Legal Studies. Milka Wahu is a lecturer at the School of Law, Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology, and the founder of Amka Africa Justice Initiative, a non-profit organization dedicated to mentoring young lawyers and promoting access to justice across Kenya.
Milka Wahu’s journey into law was inspired at a young age by John Grisham’s “The Street Lawyer”, which introduced her to the idea of legal practice as a tool for tangible social impact. Over the years, she has combined her academic work, public interest litigation, policy advocacy, and mentorship to address structural injustices, champion human rights, and expand legal consciousness in Kenya. In this interview, she shares insights on her path to the legal profession, the ethos of Amka Africa Justice Initiative, the challenges of balancing law, research, and family, and the broader lessons of social justice work across Africa.
First, thanks for taking the time. Please give us a broad introduction about yourself and tell us about your journey into the legal profession. What motivated you to pursue law?
My name is Milka Wahu. I am from Kenya. I teach at the School of Law, Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology, and I also run an organization called Amka Africa Justice Initiative. My journey to the legal profession started when I was younger and read John Grisham’s “The Street Lawyer”. I was very inspired – I thought, “This is the kind of lawyer I want to be.” I followed that inspiration, and today I am still doing social justice work and enjoying it.
Please, tell us a bit about The Street Lawyer and why it inspired you.
It is a novel by John Grisham. The stories are about people who are vulnerable and unable to afford a lawyer, and about a lawyer who pursues justice for them. What struck me was the idea of a legal practice that produces tangible results – something you can feel. Access to justice can be abstract, but this book showed me lawyers producing concrete change: people getting something they would not have otherwise because someone applied the law for them.
Were there real-life role models for you – inside or outside the legal field?
Yes. Outside of law, I admired Professor Wangari Maathai. I did not know her personally, but I read about her and observed how she interacted with different communities and the impact she made. Within the law, Justice Monica Mbaru inspired me. I met her while I was a second-year student researching disability issues. She was in civil society then; we became friends, and she showed deep commitment to justice. Later, she became a judge. Until this day, she remains my mentor and friend.
You co-founded Amka Africa Justice Initiative. What inspired its creation, what does the name mean, and what are the organisation’s goals?
“Amka” is a Swahili word that means “arise” or “wake up”. The name is a call: let Africa rise to the issue of access to justice. If you look at the statistics, Africa is doing poorly in access to justice. Without access to justice, you cannot grow economically, politically, or socially. Lack of access holds marginalized people back.
Amka Africa focuses on mentoring and equipping young lawyers at the university level and in their first five years after qualification. We want them to appreciate social justice issues from a deep perspective – to understand root causes – and to give them tools to address those issues holistically, using the law to meet justice needs and transform societies.
“Amka is built on ethical legal practice, partnership, transparency, accountability, and an empathetic practice of law.”
Is the organisation mainly about training upcoming lawyers?
Exactly. We concentrate on mentoring and training young lawyers to equip them to address systemic justice issues.
How do you fund this work? As far as I know, Amka is a non-profit.
Yes, it is a registered non-profit. We also work with university legal clinics. Amka aims to be a platform through which different legal clinics from Kenyan universities can access resources. We fundraise both locally and internationally.
A vital resource is our people: students and young lawyers who have gone through our mentorship program. They provide services. For example, if a case needs court representation, we call someone who has completed the program, and they will represent the client. We also promote assisted self-representation: clients can represent themselves with training and assistance from students. So, trained students and young lawyers are our primary resource, supplemented by fundraising from partners who share our objectives.
What are the core pillars or values of Amka’s training program?
Amka is built on ethical, legal practice, partnership, transparency, accountability, and an empathetic practice of law. We often talk about Just Mercy – mercy clothed in justice. Empathy matters: you look at a client holistically, not just as an issue defined by a statute or constitutional article. What else affects this person’s life? What are the surrounding factors?
For example, in criminal cases, if you ignore the surrounding circumstances, you might end up convicting someone and sending them to jail even though their life circumstances left them no realistic alternative. Consider transgender or intersex persons who struggle to obtain identity documents because of their gender expression. Without an identity card, they cannot access basic services, so they may resort to forging documents to make ends meet. The law would call that fraud, but if you look at the person holistically and the exclusion they suffer, you might avoid custody in mitigation and exercise discretion for a non-custodial sentence. That is just mercy.
“First, find yourself. Ask: What do you want to do, and why do you want to do it?“
Is Amka engaged in strategic litigation?
Yes – strategic public interest litigation. Some structural injustices cannot be fixed one case at a time because litigation is expensive. You may need one well-chosen case that can produce a judgment leading to policy reforms..
Are there specific achievements from your strategic litigation work that you are particularly proud of?
Yes, we have had several vital wins. We brought the first case on transgender rights that enabled a transgender organisation to register as an NGO for education and advocacy. We also litigated to address the gender marker problem in secondary school documents: a marker that conflicted with a person’s gender expression made those documents practically unusable. We got the court to require the relevant authority to remove that visible gender marker so people could present documents without the problematic marker. It was kept only in back-office records. That matter moved from the High Court to the Court of Appeal, and the Court of Appeal confirmed the decision.
On policy advocacy: Kenya enacted the Children Act 2022, which recognised intersex children and provided safeguards. But an act of parliament is not enough – you need implementation steps, policies and regulations, and changes to forms like birth certificates. We lobbied policymakers, did legal empowerment work, and eventually the government updated the birth certificate to include three sex markers: male, female, and intersex. That was a significant achievement for Amka Africa Justice Initiative.
I am very proud because we worked with people and students who are now practicing across different sectors – courts, corporate, civil society, academia – and they carry those values with them. We do not train lawyers only for civil society. We want impact across corporate worlds and the criminal justice system too. If they go into corporations or banks, they can apply just law and just mercy there as well. Minor impacts add up; a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step.
What challenges do you regularly encounter in your work? And what about challenges as a woman and a mother?
There are many challenges. Time is a big one . I barely have enough time to deal with all I need to do. Mentorship itself is hard work: it means following people closely, reviewing their work, words, and actions, and then having conversations about how to improve. It is detailed, continuous work. But it is two-way traffic. I also get mentored by those I mentor. Still, it requires focus and constant reminders that this is the path I chose.
As a woman and a mother, time management becomes even more complex. I am a lecturer, a practicing lawyer handling cases, a mentor, and I am doing a PhD. It is a lot. Sometimes I feel I am not giving proper attention to everything. Funding and resources are always a challenge, but we leverage our human resources as much as possible.
Another major challenge is that our legal education often does not prepare lawyers to address deep structural problems of justice. To be true “street lawyers” or to practice just mercy, you need tools to understand the limits and interplay of justice and mercy. Law school does not always provide that. That is one reason I am doing my PhD. I want to generate research that helps improving how we train lawyers to tackle systemic issues.
What advice would you give young people who want to follow your path?
First, find yourself. Ask: What do you want to do, and why do you want to do it? If you are a lawyer, how do you want to use the law? Then ask: How will you use that law as an instrument of justice and to impact people’s lives? Do not limit the concept of service to traditional roles. Even if you’re a chief legal officer at a bank, remember that banks serve people. You can use your legal expertise to help marginalized individuals gain access to economic opportunities, thereby contributing to the transformation of society.
Also, find balance. I do not know a one-size-fits-all formula – it is personal. Do not lose yourself completely to work. Make time to have fun. The child in me is very alive: I climb trees, laugh with friends and family, cook and eat with people, travel, and hike in the hills and mountains. Self-care, which involves taking care of mental and physical health, is essential.
“My legacy will live in those young lawyers’ work and decisions.”
Do you feel there has been progress in Kenya in recent years despite the challenges you tackle?
Yes, definitely. There has been progress. I recently attended a workshop on belonging and legal consciousness. Legal consciousness – how people relate to the law – has improved in Kenya. People talk about the Constitution in everyday conversations. They may not know the exact articles, but they relate ordinary problems to constitutional principles. That growing legal consciousness is essential.
You can see it in youth protests: Gen Z is asking questions and relating governance to basic needs. In contexts where people used to see politics as separate from their daily life, such as water, sanitation, and food, that is changing. People are now asking for better governance. It can be costly; sometimes, people die in these struggles, but it is positive that citizens are asking questions and holding leaders accountable.
Are there lessons human rights lawyers in other African countries could learn from Kenyan human rights lawyers?
There is always something to learn from each other. One notable thing about Kenya – it is very litigious, especially on public interest matters. Many public interest cases go to court, and drive change. When policy reform through parliament is difficult, for instance, where parliaments lean towards executive forces, courts can become the avenue for redress. People can challenge budgetary or policy matters in court as public interest cases. Courts have provided reprieve and driven policy changes in many instances. Governments sometimes resist court orders, but often they comply. That litigiousness and willingness to use courts as a check on the other arms of government is something other jurisdictions might learn from.
Please briefly explain the concept of legal consciousness for our readers.
Legal consciousness is a big concept with many facets. In this context, it means how people appreciate the law, what they consider to be law, and what laws they will obey and act on. Sometimes that “law” is not what is written on paper. In Africa, we have many transplanted laws inherited from colonial governments that may not speak to specific local contexts. So, people may know what the written law says but still act differently because the law does not resonate with their lived reality.
Legal consciousness also covers whether people know the law and whether they know how to use it to make change. Do they know how to use the law in a specific instance to secure justice? Those are crucial questions for social justice work.
When you work at Amka, which “law” do you use – written law, customary law, or other systems?
That is a difficult question. I have read a lot about what law is, and there is not a simple answer. Law is contextual. In Kenya, the law includes the written Constitution – our supreme law – and Article 2(5) makes ratified international instruments part of Kenyan law. So international and regional instruments and customary international law principles are part of our law. Then we have statutes, common law principles, equity, and customary law. The Constitution must apply customary law and cannot conflict with statutes or human dignity.
Customary law varies from group to group and is often relevant in personal law issues like family and succession. But sometimes people reject the written law because it does not speak to their context. When that happens, lawyers must think beyond the written law: ask what other factors and tools are relevant, who else to bring to the table, and how to resolve the justice issue holistically.
One last question: how do you want your work to be remembered?
That is a tricky question. I think my work will be remembered through the many lawyers I have helped shaping and mentoring. These lawyers go into different parts of society, politics, courts, corporate, civil society, academia – and they will carry a piece of what I have tried to pass on. My legacy will live in those young lawyers’ work and decisions. If that happens, I will feel I have done my part, and I can retire satisfied.
That is truly impressive. Thank you for the interview. I am sure you will leave a legacy.
Thank you.
