Kisii town came to a standstill on Wednesday morning when a man believed to have stolen an M-Pesa phone from a kiosk sprinted through the central business district completely naked while shouting disturbing confessions about his crime.
The shocking spectacle started shortly after 10.45am when commuters along the Kisii-Migori stage were startled by the sight of a bare-chested man bolting from the Nyanchwa direction, pants already around his knees, eyes wild, sweat glistening on his forehead and a voice louder than a boda boda hooter.
At first, onlookers thought he had escaped from a hospital. He ran past two fruit vendors and knocked over a stack of pineapples. He shouted in rapid Kiswahili and Ekegusii, confessing in graphic detail how he had entered a nearby M-Pesa kiosk that morning, waited for the young female attendant to step outside briefly, then grabbed her phone and vanished into the crowd.
The man shouted her full name, described her face, her kiosk, the kind of phone, and even the wallpaper image on the screen. His ranting was too specific to be fake.
It didn’t take long before the M-Pesa attendant in question arrived on the scene, guided by word of mouth and shocked witnesses. She stood quietly near the Kisii stage as the man pointed directly at her and begged for forgiveness. He continued running in circles, never once stopping, saying something was burning inside his chest and forcing him to speak the truth.
This continued for nearly twenty minutes.
Boda boda riders abandoned their bikes. A primary school nearby let students out of class after the noise became too much to ignore. Supermarket workers lined up at balconies while mutura vendors at the corner momentarily stopped selling to watch the scene unfold.
Police officers from Kisii Central finally managed to block the man near a hardware shop after several failed attempts. But when they approached, he lay flat on the ground and shouted again.
Take me to her. I want her to hear me say it again. I did it. I took the phone. I used it to send money to a betting app. But now I want to die. My body is not mine anymore.
At this point, the crowd had doubled in size. Someone streamed the incident live on Facebook. By midday, the video had already been viewed 30,000 times. Some watched with disbelief. Others commented that this was the third incident of its kind in Kisii within one week.
Later that afternoon, the M-Pesa attendant, whose identity we are withholding, told local reporters she had just stepped outside to answer a call of nature when her phone was snatched. She had not yet activated M-Pesa’s pin lock and the phone contained Sh47,200 in float and customer balances.
I almost lost everything, she said quietly. But I had decided not to report. I thought it was over. I never expected to see my phone again. Now I have seen more than the phone. I have seen God move.
Witnesses who gathered around the young man after he was subdued said he smelled of sweat and ashes. He did not appear drunk. One woman who poured water on him from a jerrycan said his skin was cold to the touch, despite the scorching midday sun.
According to eyewitnesses, the man began tearing at his clothes just minutes after entering an estate near Nyanchwa. He told a woman cooking mandazi that he felt fire moving inside his intestines. She thought he was mentally disturbed and ignored him, only to hear him shout moments later that he could no longer keep the secret.
From there, he ran along the street, removing every piece of clothing until he was fully naked. At no point did he try to hide or cover himself. He was instead filled with what many described as desperate urgency to confess.
At the Kisii Central police station, he later told officers that he had not eaten since the theft and could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he said, he would see the phone melting in his hands or the face of the M-Pesa girl crying blood.
He also claimed he was hearing whispers at night instructing him to return the money. But when he tried to withdraw it, the app refused to open. The phone, he said, got stuck on the same screen with a blinking red light even after he tried resetting it twice.
I bought it to enjoy my life, he told the officers. But the money has cursed me.
By Thursday morning, his relatives had visited the station and requested that he be released for spiritual counselling. Police confirmed they were reviewing CCTV footage from surrounding kiosks to verify parts of the story. However, none of the officers could explain his behaviour or how he came to confess in such a dramatic fashion without being caught.
Businesses in Kisii reported increased customer traffic later that day, mostly from curious passersby who wanted to know more about the incident. Hotel owners near Daraja Mbili claimed some people checked in just to be closer to the story. Mutura vendors returned to their grills, shouting playful jokes like Hatutaki mtu anakuja hapa na simu ya wizi!
Yet beneath the laughter and jokes, many business owners admitted they were scared. In recent months, theft cases have become more brazen and difficult to detect. Small traders with M-Pesa booths, cosmetics shelves, and even vegetable stands have all been targeted.
Some say this recent string of dramatic confessions is not ordinary. In the past month alone, three different petty thieves in the region have either fainted during their crimes or started speaking in tongues immediately after leaving a crime scene.
One elderly mama mboga in Kisii’s Jogoo area whispered that thieves are now being hunted by powers they cannot see. Others said this is just the beginning and that people who profit from stealing small earnings of hardworking traders will soon meet their match.
Away from the noise of Kisii town, a quiet revolution is taking place. It has no posters or billboards. No one is shouting about it in markets or campaigns. But the results speak in a language no thief can ignore.
There are traders in Kisii who now sleep peacefully without checking their padlocks five times. There are kiosks left unattended for ten minutes yet untouched. There are M-Pesa agents who recover stolen float, not through police but through mystery.
And there is one number that they all seem to have in common.
👉 Click here to call +254 795 613711
This number does not lead to police. It is not a law firm. It does not ask you to fill forms. It simply offers protection in a way that thieves cannot understand. Business owners say it brings a wall around their work. One that cannot be jumped over. One that stops thieves not with force, but with something deeper.
Do you run a business that constantly loses money in mysterious ways? Have you fired staff only for the theft to continue? Do you find your float always short but cannot prove who is taking it? Are you tired of calling police only to be told to wait?
Then you need to make a decision.
From salon owners in Keroka to barbers in Oyugis, from mitumba traders in Nyamira to wholesalers in Kisumu, those who have made this call say their stories changed. Their peace returned. Their profits stopped vanishing.
This is not a threat. It is a shield.
What happened in Kisii is not madness. It is a warning.
Stealing from people who build their business with sweat and tears now comes with a price. A price that no bribe can fix. A consequence that even running naked cannot undo.
The choice is yours. You can wait until someone confesses with your name on their lips or take action before trouble starts. Let this story be your reminder that in this new season, even thieves are no longer safe.
