The Kenyan Court of Appeal’s BBI Judgment – III: The Fourth Branch/IEBC

If you were to draw one of those Venn Diagrams that are so popular as internet memes these days, for the BBI Judgment, the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission [“IEBC”] would be at the centre. Established under Article 88 of the Constitution (see here), the IEBC is a Fourth Branch institution that – as the name suggests – is responsible for supervising elections and referenda, and for related matters such as boundary and constituency delimitation (see Article 88(4)). In the BBI Case, the IEBC was involved in a range overlapping issues: one of the grounds for challenging the Constitution Amendment Bill was that by directly altering constituencies, it took away the prescribed function of the IEBC; and furthermore, since the IEBC plays an important part under Article 257, its own conduct during the Popular Initiative came under scrutiny. Let us take some of these issues in turn.

The Constitution Amendment Bill and the IEBC

Recall that one of the features of the Constitution Amendment Bill was the creation of seventy new constituencies, allocated to twenty-nine counties. This had been invalidated by the High Court, on the basis that the independence of the IEBC and its constitutionally guaranteed role of delimitation was itself a part of the basic structure. Agreeing with this analysis, Musinga (P), in his lead judgment (with which Gatembu Kairu JA agrees), frames the issue as one of political gerrymandering (paragraph 292) (thus implicitly agreeing with Respondent’s counsel during oral arguments, where it had been pointed out that constituencies are essentially sources – and terrains – of political and resource patronage). This point is strengthened by the fact that the criteria in the Second Schedule to the Constitution Amendment Bill to determine the manner of increase of constituencies were different from the criteria set out in Article 89.

This, coupled with the fact that the Second Schedule to the Constitution Amendment Bill would essentially set up two parallel – and conflicting – power centres with respect to delimitation (without deleting Article 89(2)) allow Musinga J to hold that in any event, the creation of additional constituencies via amendment is unconstitutional (paragraphs 416 – 417; see also Nambuye JA, paragraph 150).

The deeper rationale for this is provided in Kiage JA’s opinion. Kiage JA notes:

the protective role of independence commissions over the sovereignty of the people is of critical and vital importance and can only be attained by a jealous and uncompromising assertion, exercise and defense of their independence. I apprehend that it is independent commissions alongside the Judiciary which must police and patrol the lines of delegation of the sovereignty of the people to Parliament and the legislative assemblies in the county governments, the national exercise and the executive structures in the county governments, and the Judiciary and independent tribunals. Independent Commissions are charged with duty of vigilantly and keenly ensuring that the State organs to which sovereign power is delegated maintain the stance of delegates accountable to their principals, and remain always the servants of the people. (pg 187)

These comments chime with a growing trend in comparative constitutionalism, which is the recognition of “Fourth Branch Institutions” as crucial guarantors of constitutional democracy. Information Commissions, Elections Commissions, Ombudspersons (such as, for example, South Africa’s Public Protector or India’s Comptroller and Auditor General), are examples of such bodies. Their importance lies in the fact that as far as certain fundamental rights are concerned, their effective realisation is impossible without a kind of institutional mediation. The right to vote, for example, needs an election commission to be realised; similarly, the right to information needs an information commission; and so on. Consequently, the independence of such bodies is an integral feature of the complete fulfilment of the right itself, and insofar as issues such as the membership and functions of those bodies are to be determined by legislation, such legislation must (a) be framed so as to ensure that the right is actually realised, and (b) once framed, attains the status of a “constitutional statute.” While a range of these issues were, of course, not before the BBI Court, Kiage JA’s observations – specifically about the role of commissions in ensuring accountability – gesture towards a recognition of the constitutional status of Fourth Branch institutions, and all that such recognition entails.

Kiage JA’s observations are also a response to Sichale JA’s dissent. As the High Court had held, amending Article 89 itself was permissible as long as the procedures under Articles 255 – 257 were followed. Thus, hypothetically, the total number of constituencies could be increased via a procedural amendment. However, the manner in which this increase took place would have to be such that the independence of the IEBC in matters of delimitation (which constitutes a part of the basic structure) was not compromised. Thus, the issue with the Constitution Amendment Bill was not that it sought to increase the number of constituencies, but that it sought to cut the IEBC out of the process altogether.

Sichale JA then argues that a mere increase in the number of constituencies does not amount to a “delimitation” exercise. With respect, this argument appears to play upon a distinction without a difference: the seventy new constituencies will not be created out of a vacuum. They must necessarily be carved out of existing constituencies, thus – ipso facto – altering boundaries and in effect (even if not formally) becoming an exercise in delimitation. It is this that the majority finds must require the independent assessment of the IEBC before any increase in the number of constituencies is effected. Indeed, Tuiyott JA grasps precisely this point when he notes that:

Further, section 1(2) identifies the counties where the additional seventy constituencies will be located. In doing so, delimitation in respect to these 70 constituencies is in a sense pre-set without the involvement of IEBC as they are already allocated to counties set out in the schedule. (paragraph 234)

The IEBC: Questions of Process

In the BBI Hearings, the IEBC was – interestingly – both a victim and in the dock! Its conduct in the Popular Initiative was challenged on multiple grounds: an absence of quorum, the absence of an adequate legislative framework, the absence of mechanisms for voter registration, and so on. On almost all the counts, the IEBC was found wanting, both at the High Court, and at the Court of Appeal. By a majority, the Court of Appeal affirmed the High Court’s findings that:

  1. That the minimum quorum requirement for the IEBC to carry out its functions was five members (an understaffed IEBC, following a spate of resignations, did not meet this). This finding required the Court to engage with two potentially conflicting precedents on this point (Katiba Institute and Isiah Biwott); it was ultimately held that the judicial invalidation of a prior attempt to amend legislation and bring down the quorum meant that, as per law, the quorum stayed at five (but see Tuiyott JA’s opinion for the same outcome, albeit with different reasoning).
  2. That, prior to the Popular Initiative, the IEBC had failed in its obligation to demonstrate continuing voter registration, which would have ensured that there was a sufficient degree of correspondence between those who were entitled to vote, and actually registered voters.
  3. That the task of the IEBC under Article 257 was not simply a head-count of the million votes, but a basic level of verification as well (based on the IEBC’s own previous documents). The IEBC, however, failed to put into place a mechanism for verification; and the Administrative Procedures that it did put into place failed the threshold requirement for such secondary legislation (including, for example, that of public participation).
  4. That there did not exist an adequate legislative and regulatory framework for the conduct of referenda (the provisions in the Elections Act were unfit for purpose, especially considering the seriousness of a referendum under Article 257).

The analysis here concerned detailed engagement with Kenyan statutory and administrative law. Upon this, I am not qualified to comment, noting only that I found Tuiyott JA’s opinion the most granular and instructive (although his reasoning departs from the majority in certain respects). However, there are two larger public law points that I want to briefly flag. The first is the Court’s insistence that the importance of referenda required, in essence, the strictest possible compliance by constitutional authorities. When you survey global constitutional jurisprudence, you find two approaches. One is what may be called a “leeway” approach: that the undertaking of complex administrative tasks requires play in the joints, and that therefore, upon challenge, a Court will allow the State to get away without strict compliance with law, as long as there is substantive compliance (a theory familiar, perhaps, from contract law). The other, however, is closer to criminal law: that it is the precise importance of the issues at stake that require any deviation from the established procedure to be treated with great seriousness. Across the Court of Appeal’s judgments, the point that a an amendment to the Constitution is a matter of paramount importance. Consequently, issues such as quorum – which would appear to be minor procedural flaws that should not vitiate an exercise of scale – attain the same degree of gravity as the exercise itself, and cannot be lightly brushed aside.

The second point ties in with the first half of the post, and brings us back to the point of constitutional statutes. It is interesting to note that the Court of Appeals is pellucidly clear on the point that the implementation of the Popular Initiative required the enactment of a legislative scheme (although the High Court did hold – and Tuiyott JA affirms – that for something like Article 257, the legislature’s failure to act should not be held against the People, and that consequently, a procedure that is constitutionally compliant will still pass muster). This comports with the view that certain fundamental rights are incomplete without legislative instantiation, and raises a host of interesting questions about how statute and Constitution are to be read together, when that legislation does come into existence. It has been argued by scholars that constitutional statutes are a kind of “super statute”, their status somewhere between ordinary law and constitutional law. Indeed, the precedent in Katiba Institute, involving the striking down of the attempt to reduce quorum – as discussed above – is a good example of how, once a legislative scheme does exist to instantiate a set of rights, certain kinds of clawback, or regression, will not be treated as a simple legislative amendment, but an actual constitutional violation (see here). (And this is why I respectfully disagree with Tuiyott JA’s argument that even when the revised Quorum provision was struck down in Katiba Institute, the older one did not revive; Musinga (P)’s reasoning that the older provision stays in force is closer to the theory of constitutional statutes).

For example, suppose that tomorrow Kenya enacts a Referendum Act, which follows the Court of Appeals judgment and prescribes a “unity of content” approach towards the framing of referendum questions. Now suppose that a future Kenyan Parliament decides to amend that Act to allow for a “lumping” of questions a la BBI. The theory of constitutional statutes will allow a Court to strike down such an amendment on constitutional grounds. The argument will be that once a statutory framework has been established to instantiate a certain constitutional right, it is not open to Parliament to retrogress and once again bring the legal position to that of non-compliance from compliance.

Of course, none of these questions were before the Court of Appeals. I believe, however, that the theory of constitutional statutes forms an unarticulated major premise of the Court’s findings on adequacy of legislative framework. It will therefore be exciting to see whether, in a future case where the question is front and centre, the the concept attains full articulation.


The BBI Appeals also considered a range of other issues, such as Presidential immunity, the question of service upon the President, the role of County Assemblies, the inclusion of the Kenyan National Union of Nurses, cross-appeals, and many others. I read these findings with great interest, and learned a lot from reading them, but their specificity precludes further analysis on my part.

This brings to an end the three-part substantive examination of the BBI judgment. I will – tomorrow – write a concluding post reflecting on some of the lingering questions, as well as what, perhaps, what comparative constitutional jurisprudence could learn from the Kenyan Courts.

4 thoughts on “The Kenyan Court of Appeal’s BBI Judgment – III: The Fourth Branch/IEBC

  1. What a start and what an end. Super. I hope, considering you allow comments on your website (an alien concept to me), my responses are not mis-interpreted to be ‘trying for attention’ but just reflection of what a ‘reader’ thought. Amongst the 3 till now, No. 3 is the best – by far. It reflects No. 4, a difficult No. always, is in preparation. Just this – you say No. 4 shall be “on some lingering questions… as well as what… ‘comparative constitutional jurisprudence’ could learn from the Kenyan Courts” – I hope No. 4 has a read on the Judges too. Of course, jurisprudence can’t be independent of those who led us to it. Thus, all of us (a phenomenal majority), who couldn’t have even named the Judges before this, wait to learn the transformational character of the Judges!

  2. […] With the greatest of respect, textually, this is not entirely convincing. If I say to you that “you may have at least three but not more than nine mangoes”, I am leaving the decision of how many mangoes you want to have up to you; I am only setting a lower and an upper bound, but the space for decision within that bound is entirely yours. Similarly, what Article 250(1) does is set a lower and upper bound for Commissions and quorum, with the decision of where to operate in that space being left up to legislation (see Ibrahim J, paragraph 892). This point is buttressed by the fact that under Article 25(3) of the Constitution, it is stated that “Until the legislation anticipated in Article 250 is in force the persons appointed as members or as chairperson of the Salaries and Remuneration Commission shall be appointed by the President, subject to the National Accord and Reconciliation Act, and after consultation with the Prime Minister and with the approval of the National Assembly.” I would suggest that this indicates that the appropriate body for implementing Article 250 is the legislature, and consequently, questions about quorum and strength ought to be left to the legislature (subject to general principles of constitutional statutes and non-retrogression, discussed here). […]

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