Nairobi — Many years ago, I travelled to San Salvador, El Salvador, and found a surprise. Guns could be bought in supermarkets next to bananas and mangos.

The proliferation of guns, after two decades of war, was not surprising. The taste of blood, even when a war ends, remains in the souls of men. And people who feel like they must defend themselves, hire guards with shotguns, place razor-wire around their homes and buy weapons at the grocery.

Today, frightened businessmen drive in San Salvador in bullet-proof cars. Some of my friends, who've been threatened by gang members, have found hiding spots in the countryside.

INSIDE THE PRISONS, INMATES ARE so powerful that they routinely order the killing of police officers.

There are two choices in society: the rule of law or chaos. By not taking the proper steps after the peace accords were signed in the early 1990s, El Salvador's society has slowly descended into a state of crime that rivals any place in the world. Does any of this sound familiar?

Kenya is facing a similar crossroads as it wrestles with the decision over whether to punish the politicians involved in last year's post-election violence. Much is at stake: What was one of the world's most promising young democracies is in jeopardy.

The most tempting path is to do nothing, and that appears to be the choice of the Kenyan Government. The downside, of course, is that inaction simply empowers the corrupt politicians, and it allows gangs to grow in power, influence and arms. Left alone, they'll make last year's violence look like a child's play.

The only person of international stature who's truly looking out for Kenya's future is Kofi Annan, the former secretary-general of the UN, who brokered last year's peace deal. He has given a secret report on the violence, produced by a special Kenyan commission, to the criminal court at The Hague.

Annan has upped the ante, because the Kenyan Government is stalling. Citizens must either rally to Annan's side or watch ringside as their country slips beyond control. Walking down the back streets of a barrio in San Salvador early one morning about four years ago, I rounded the bend after a shootout.

Pools of blood were being washed down the street with large buckets of water, and people were returning as though several men had not just been shot. At night, I've often heard the rapid fire of automatic weapons as rival gangs fight over territory.

Inside every store, there are guards with shotguns that are powerful enough to blow a hole in the side of a building. In the best neighbourhoods, homes are circled with walls topped with broken glass. German shepherds and powerful weapons await in the compounds. One gets used to seeing truckloads of soldiers speeding throughout the city.

I'VE SEEN BODIES OF PEOPLE KILLED in shootouts. They sometimes lie in the road for hours until ambulances have time to take them to the morgue.

The New York Times is reporting that Finance minister Uhuru Kenyatta, the son of Kenya's founding president and a Kikuyu, as well as Agriculture minister William Ruto, who is a Kalenjin, are suspected of organising death squads.

Kenya must make a decision to investigate and prosecute if necessary. Indecision must not be tolerated.