‘Thank you, God’s people’: Dorothy Kweyu reunites with son Stevo after 13 years on Saudi death row

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When veteran journalist Dorothy Kweyu Musopole first received news that her son Stephen Munyakho, fondly known as Stevo, had been sentenced to death in Saudi Arabia, her world stopped.

On Tuesday, July after 13 agonising years--nine(9) of them spent under the shadow of execution--Stevo finally stepped back onto Kenyan soil, free. His homecoming marked the end of a long and painful journey that tested a mother’s love, Kenya’s diplomatic muscle, and the generosity of strangers.

“Thank you, Your Excellency the Ambassador Mohamed Ramadhan Ruwange, for delivering my firstborn safely back to me. Thanks so much, God’s people, for your prayers and material contributions towards Stevo's release,” Ms Kweyu said with tears streaming down her face.

Stevo’s ordeal began in 2011 while working at a Red Sea resort in Saudi Arabia.

An altercation with a colleague turned fatal, and though he was initially sentenced to five years for manslaughter, an appeal by the victim’s family saw the verdict overturned. In 2014, a Sharia court sentenced him to death by beheading.

Under Saudi law, the only way to avoid the execution was to convince the victim’s family to accept diyah, or blood money. But the family set the figure at a staggering SAR 10 million (nearly Sh352 million).

Even after years of negotiation, the reduced figure of SAR 3.5 million (about Sh123 million) remained far beyond the family’s means.

Ms Kweyu, a widely respected former editor and columnist, took her plea to the nation.

She knocked on every door--writing, speaking, and praying for support. She launched a Paybill appeal—8056675, “Let’s Bring Back Stevo”—and rallied family, colleagues, and well-wishers. The Media Council of Kenya, her former employer the Nation Media Group, and even former Vice President Moody Awori supported her. But by early this year, only about Sh 8 million to Sh11 million had been raised.

With the execution deadline looming in May 2024, the family lived in constant dread.

When hope was nearly lost, the impossible happened. The Muslim World League, moved by the family’s story, stepped in quietly and paid the full blood money. The intervention came just weeks before Stevo was scheduled to face the sword.

Ambassador Mohamed Ruwange of Kenya's mission in Riyadh, who had walked every step of the journey with the family, personally accompanied Stevo home.

“I almost gave up,” Ms Kweyu told AVDelta News.

“But each day, someone would send Sh500, another would say, ‘We are praying.’ That kept me going.”

Stevo spent nine(9) years at Shimeisi Maximum Security Prison in Makkah. In his letters home, he maintained that the incident had never been intentional. He described a scuffle, a moment of panic, and a life that changed in seconds.

“Mum, I never meant to hurt anyone,” he once wrote.

In Kenya, his mother never stopped believing him. She became his voice, his advocate, and his last lifeline.

Stevo’s case has reawakened conversations about the safety of Kenyans working abroad, the limitations of blood money laws, and the urgent need for diaspora support frameworks. His return is not just a family’s triumph--it is a national moment.

“If this happened to my son, it can happen to someone else’s daughter or brother. Let’s create systems to protect our people,” Ms Kweyu said.

Now back in Nairobi, Stevo remains soft-spoken and deeply reflective. He told friends he still finds it hard to believe he is free.

As his mother held him tightly at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, she whispered, “Welcome home, my son.”

And for the first time in 13 years, they could both breathe.