In the quiet village of Karura, nestled in Mathira, Nyeri County, two brothers were born into a humble farming family. Their names: Halford Munene Murakaru and Charles Mwangi Murakaru. Despite a two-year age gap, their bond was unbreakable — their parents, Titus Murakaru and Esther Nyaguthi, often described them as inseparable.
The brothers were part of a family of four children, raised by parents who worked tirelessly on their farm with one dream in mind: to give their children a better life through education.
Halford, the eldest, led by example. He developed a deep love for reading early on and inspired his younger brother Charles to follow suit. The two boys became known for their academic brilliance. They both earned top marks in school and secured spots at the prestigious Nyeri High School — the same school that once shaped the late President Mwai Kibaki.
At Nyeri High, Halford and Charles continued to shine. Their outstanding performance in national exams earned them admission to Jomo Kenyatta University of Agriculture and Technology (JKUAT), where both pursued degrees in Agricultural Engineering. Their future looked bright.
But after graduating, the promise of a better life through education began to dim. Despite their academic achievements, they struggled to find employment — a reality that hit them hard. Their dreams were crushed by the brutal job market, a frustration many young Kenyans can relate to.
Desperate to survive in Nairobi, the brothers began posing as car dealers, running small scams to earn a living. But for two brilliant minds, this wasn’t enough. They wanted more — and they were willing to go to extreme lengths to get it.
Instead of turning to violent crime, they turned to their brains. Inspired by the famous 2005 Brazilian Banco Central tunnel heist and the tunnel escape of Mexican drug lord El Chapo, they began planning something big: a bloodless, sophisticated bank robbery.
They recruited two friends to join them — Julius Ndung’u Wanaina, an Electrical Engineering graduate from the University of Nairobi, and Shem Kirimi, a student at JKUAT. Together, they formed a team that would go on to execute what many now call the most calculated and daring heist in Kenya’s history.
Their target: the Kenya Commercial Bank (KCB) branch in Thika. They picked this bank because it had a major vulnerability — a blindspot with no CCTV coverage at the rear. It was the perfect weakness to exploit.
In June 2017, they put their plan into motion. Using fake identification documents, they rented three stalls in a building just 30 meters from the bank. They claimed to be setting up a bookshop business. They paid Ksh 168,000 in advance for six months’ rent — money believed to have come from previous scams.
During the day, they operated one stall with printers and school supplies to maintain the illusion of a legitimate business. But behind the scenes, the other two stalls were being used for something much more sinister: digging a tunnel.
Equipped with hoes, welding gas, gas masks, planks of wood for tunnel support, sacks, cartons, overalls, a spirit level, a battery, and an inverter for tunnel lighting, they worked in shifts, carefully and quietly carving their path toward the bank vault.
They even convinced the building’s caretaker to allow them to work at night, claiming they were packaging books — but in reality, they were sneaking out sacks of soil.
Shem, the youngest, packed the soil into cartons and drove it away, posing as a deliveryman. For six months, they dug that tunnel — without raising a single suspicion.
Preparing for success, they even paid Ksh 21,000 to a woman in Juja to rent a one-bedroom house where they planned to stash part of the loot after the heist. Everything was methodically planned and executed.
Then, on the night of Sunday, November 19, 2017, the tunnel finally broke through into the bank’s strongroom. Using oxyacetylene welding from their gas tank, the gang melted their way into the vault — no guns, no violence, just brainwork.
By the time they left, they had stolen an estimated Ksh 52 million, including foreign currencies such as 95 Australian dollars, 185 euros, 1,630 British pounds, 5,781 U.S. dollars, 271,000 Tanzanian shillings, 940,000 Ugandan shillings, 40 South African rand, and 5 Canadian dollars.
Instead of fleeing the country like most criminals, they calmly returned to their residence in Marurui Estate, Kasarani, as if nothing had happened. But what they didn’t know was that someone among them had already slipped — someone had snitched.
About a week after the robbery, the police received a tip from a neighbor who noticed unusual behavior from the group. Acting on the tip, police raided their house and arrested the Murakaru brothers along with Julius Ndung’u.
Inside, officers found several SIM cards, stolen IDs, and bundles of cash. The arrested trio eventually led police to a stash house where Ksh 17,135,000 was recovered along with 1,311 U.S. dollars, 340 pounds, 5 Canadian dollars, 85 Australian dollars, 46,000 Tanzanian shillings, 40 South African rand, and 20,000 Ugandan shillings.
However, that still left a huge sum missing.
The three suspects were arraigned in court and later released on bond, each posting Ksh 4 million for their temporary freedom.
But Shem Kirimi remained at large — until he was tracked down a week later in Mtwapa. Ironically, police found him in a love nest with a woman named Aisha, unaware his freedom was slipping away.
To date, around Ksh 20 million from the heist has never been recovered. No one was killed during the robbery, and the entire operation remains one of the most intelligently executed crimes in Kenyan history.
If you do the math: Ksh 52 million stolen minus Ksh 17 million recovered, and subtract Ksh 16 million used for bond — it leaves Ksh 20 million unaccounted for. That’s Ksh 5 million each if evenly split among the four men.
This story is more than just a heist — it’s a tragic reflection of Kenya’s youth, disillusioned by broken promises of success through education. Four brilliant minds, pushed by desperation and frustration, turned to crime — not because they wanted to harm anyone, but because they were tired of being stuck in a system that failed them.
The Murakaru brothers’ story is both impressive and heartbreaking — a reminder that intelligence without opportunity can become a dangerous mix.
Join Gen Z & Millennials New WhatsApp Channel To Stay Updated On time
https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaWT5gSGufImU8R0DO30
