I have always said that a country that does not know its own people cannot truly protect them. Civil registration — the systematic recording of births, deaths, marriages, and other vital events — may sound like a boring administrative duty, but it is one of the most powerful tools a nation has to secure itself.
When I look at our security challenges, from terrorism to cross-border crime, I see one recurring gap: the absence of reliable identity systems. In places where records are incomplete or easily forged, criminals and terrorists can hide in plain sight. They move, trade, recruit, and even vote without anyone truly knowing who they are. That is why I call civil registration not just a governance function, but a pillar of national security.
Think about it: if the state does not have accurate, verifiable records of its citizens and residents, how can it know who is entering, who is leaving, or who is already here? Without proper registration, someone can assume multiple identities, register a SIM card under a false name, or even acquire official documents that allow them to move across borders freely.
In Kenya, we have seen how unregistered or poorly documented individuals can slip into cities and set up networks that operate undetected. For example, Al-Shabaab can exploit this gap by using forged IDs to rent houses, open bank accounts, and buy vehicles — all for operational purposes. Strengthening civil registration closes these loopholes and makes it harder for such actors to blend in.
I consider birth registration the foundation of all other forms of identification. A birth certificate is the first legal proof that a person exists. Without it, a child can grow up invisible to the system, making it difficult to access education, healthcare, or formal employment — but also making it easier for them to be exploited by traffickers, radicalized, or used in illegal activities.
In border regions like Mandera or Turkana, where communities straddle national boundaries, some children are born without any record at all. This not only limits their rights but also complicates efforts to determine nationality, making it easier for non-citizens to claim benefits or for citizens to slip into unregulated spaces across the border.
One of the most impactful moves a country can make is to connect civil registration data to other key systems — immigration, voter rolls, tax records, health insurance, and even SIM card registration. If someone changes their identity in one system, it should raise a red flag in the others.
Counterterrorism experts will tell you that reliable identity systems are among the first things they look at in assessing a country’s security capacity. If a suspect’s background can be traced instantly — place of birth, schools attended, known addresses, relatives — it becomes much harder for them to hide.
In 2019, after a terrorist attack in Nairobi, investigators quickly identified the perpetrators partly because their national IDs were linked to prior registration records. But in other cases, attackers have used stolen or fraudulent IDs, making it harder to trace their networks. This is why identity verification must be layered — using biometrics, photos, and digital records that can’t easily be altered.
It may surprise some people, but registering deaths is just as important as registering births. Without accurate death records, the identities of deceased persons can be exploited. Fraudsters can use a dead person’s ID to open accounts, commit crimes, or even vote.
In some rural Kenyan counties, deaths are still reported informally — if at all — meaning that official records might show a person as alive years after they have passed. Closing this gap is critical to preventing identity theft and strengthening electoral and financial integrity.
Even marriage and divorce records have a role in national security. They can help uncover fraudulent relationships set up for immigration or financial gain. For instance, sham marriages have been used in some countries to grant residency to individuals who are part of criminal or extremist networks. A robust marriage and divorce registration system, cross-checked with immigration data, makes this kind of abuse far more difficult.
Civil registration works best when communities understand its importance. Chiefs, village elders, religious leaders, and health workers are critical partners. If they encourage timely registration of births and deaths, monitor documentation in their communities the system becomes far more comprehensive.
Digital systems make civil registration faster and more secure — but they also raise questions about data privacy and misuse. Citizens must be confident that their personal information will not be used for political targeting, discrimination, or commercial exploitation. Strong data protection laws, independent oversight, and transparent procedures are essential if we expect people to willingly register. Kenya’s Data Protection Act, enacted in 2019, is a good step in this direction, but its enforcement must match its intent. Without this, even the most advanced civil registration systems risk losing public cooperation.
Civil registration may not make the headlines like a counterterrorism raid or a military operation, but it is the quiet backbone of national security. It ensures that the state knows who belongs to it, who is entering and leaving, and who might be operating outside the law. It prevents criminals from hiding in bureaucratic shadows and makes it harder for terrorists, traffickers, and fraudsters to exploit identity gaps.
If we want stronger borders, safer cities, and more resilient communities, we must start with the basics: know our people. And to know them, we must record them — from the first cry at birth to the final rites of death. The issue of entering birth data to civil registry of adults should end. This is not just paperwork; it is the foundation of a secure and accountable nation.
When I look at our security challenges, from terrorism to cross-border crime, I see one recurring gap: the absence of reliable identity systems. In places where records are incomplete or easily forged, criminals and terrorists can hide in plain sight. They move, trade, recruit, and even vote without anyone truly knowing who they are. That is why I call civil registration not just a governance function, but a pillar of national security.
Think about it: if the state does not have accurate, verifiable records of its citizens and residents, how can it know who is entering, who is leaving, or who is already here? Without proper registration, someone can assume multiple identities, register a SIM card under a false name, or even acquire official documents that allow them to move across borders freely.
In Kenya, we have seen how unregistered or poorly documented individuals can slip into cities and set up networks that operate undetected. For example, Al-Shabaab can exploit this gap by using forged IDs to rent houses, open bank accounts, and buy vehicles — all for operational purposes. Strengthening civil registration closes these loopholes and makes it harder for such actors to blend in.
I consider birth registration the foundation of all other forms of identification. A birth certificate is the first legal proof that a person exists. Without it, a child can grow up invisible to the system, making it difficult to access education, healthcare, or formal employment — but also making it easier for them to be exploited by traffickers, radicalized, or used in illegal activities.
In border regions like Mandera or Turkana, where communities straddle national boundaries, some children are born without any record at all. This not only limits their rights but also complicates efforts to determine nationality, making it easier for non-citizens to claim benefits or for citizens to slip into unregulated spaces across the border.
One of the most impactful moves a country can make is to connect civil registration data to other key systems — immigration, voter rolls, tax records, health insurance, and even SIM card registration. If someone changes their identity in one system, it should raise a red flag in the others.
Counterterrorism experts will tell you that reliable identity systems are among the first things they look at in assessing a country’s security capacity. If a suspect’s background can be traced instantly — place of birth, schools attended, known addresses, relatives — it becomes much harder for them to hide.
In 2019, after a terrorist attack in Nairobi, investigators quickly identified the perpetrators partly because their national IDs were linked to prior registration records. But in other cases, attackers have used stolen or fraudulent IDs, making it harder to trace their networks. This is why identity verification must be layered — using biometrics, photos, and digital records that can’t easily be altered.
It may surprise some people, but registering deaths is just as important as registering births. Without accurate death records, the identities of deceased persons can be exploited. Fraudsters can use a dead person’s ID to open accounts, commit crimes, or even vote.
In some rural Kenyan counties, deaths are still reported informally — if at all — meaning that official records might show a person as alive years after they have passed. Closing this gap is critical to preventing identity theft and strengthening electoral and financial integrity.
Even marriage and divorce records have a role in national security. They can help uncover fraudulent relationships set up for immigration or financial gain. For instance, sham marriages have been used in some countries to grant residency to individuals who are part of criminal or extremist networks. A robust marriage and divorce registration system, cross-checked with immigration data, makes this kind of abuse far more difficult.
Civil registration works best when communities understand its importance. Chiefs, village elders, religious leaders, and health workers are critical partners. If they encourage timely registration of births and deaths, monitor documentation in their communities the system becomes far more comprehensive.
Digital systems make civil registration faster and more secure — but they also raise questions about data privacy and misuse. Citizens must be confident that their personal information will not be used for political targeting, discrimination, or commercial exploitation. Strong data protection laws, independent oversight, and transparent procedures are essential if we expect people to willingly register. Kenya’s Data Protection Act, enacted in 2019, is a good step in this direction, but its enforcement must match its intent. Without this, even the most advanced civil registration systems risk losing public cooperation.
Civil registration may not make the headlines like a counterterrorism raid or a military operation, but it is the quiet backbone of national security. It ensures that the state knows who belongs to it, who is entering and leaving, and who might be operating outside the law. It prevents criminals from hiding in bureaucratic shadows and makes it harder for terrorists, traffickers, and fraudsters to exploit identity gaps.
If we want stronger borders, safer cities, and more resilient communities, we must start with the basics: know our people. And to know them, we must record them — from the first cry at birth to the final rites of death. The issue of entering birth data to civil registry of adults should end. This is not just paperwork; it is the foundation of a secure and accountable nation.
