OPINION: Let’s not allow Nairobi to be a hunting ground for refugees by foreign agents

By Joseph Muraya,

In recent weeks, the soul of Nairobi—which once thrived as a beacon of hope and safety for refugees fleeing political oppression—has been shaken to its core.

The city is grappling with a terrifying trend: the kidnapping of foreigners deemed dissidents by their home governments.

Shockingly, citizens from Ethiopia, Turkey, Uganda and South Sudan have increasingly found themselves ensnared in a web of abduction and forced deportation.

The recent abduction of Ugandan opposition leader Kizza Besigye sent ripples of fear and disbelief through local and international communities alike.

He stands as yet another victim within a growing list, which includes the troubling cases of multiple Turkish citizens abducted and forcibly returned to their countries against their will. What has happened to Nairobi?

Once hailed as secure refuge for thousands seeking solace from tyranny, it now risks being branded as a hunting ground for oppressive regimes.

The question that looms large is this: how did we arrive at a point where the Kenyan capital is complicit in these dark machinations?

What message does this send, not only to the individuals fleeing persecution but also to the world at large?

If the clarion call of oppression is experienced within our borders, what faith can we have that the rights of our own citizens will be protected?

By tacitly allowing government agents from foreign nations to conduct operations within its borders, the Kenyan government is opening up a whole new chapter of diplomatic and ethical dilemmas.

In doing so, it sets a dangerous precedent that jeopardizes the safety of not only foreign nationals but also our own citizens who may find themselves at odds with those in power.

Would a truly sovereign and democratic country engage in such dangerous games? When did we begin trading our humanitarian legacy for fleeting political favours?

We must confront the uncomfortable truth: the recent kidnappings represent a moral failure that erodes Kenya's identity and its reputation as a safe haven.

Herein lies another crucial question: What responsibility does civil society bear in combating this alarming trend?

Are we to sit quietly while the rights of the defenceless are trampled upon?

In light of these brutal realities, it is incumbent upon us—activists, journalists, and concerned citizens—to raise our voices and demand accountability from our government.

The moral obligation extends to the international community as well. Countries that historically advocate for human rights must not turn a blind eye to this blatant disregard for due process.

It is imperative for foreign governments to pressure the Kenyan authorities to honour international treaties and agreements that protect human rights.

Will they urge their citizens to ensure their safety here, or will they allow their concerns to fade in the name of diplomacy?

Nairobi’s identity as a refuge is teetering on the brink, and it is our collective responsibility to reclaim that narrative.

A genuine commitment to human rights must guide policy choices, ensuring protections for those at risk of persecution.

If the Kenyan government wishes to remain a bastion of safety, it must take immediate steps to align practices with international standards of humane treatment and asylum.

This calls for an urgent reevaluation of how the state deals with foreign nationals facing political persecution.

Transparent processes must be established for handling their cases, along with a robust legal framework to protect the vulnerable.

Will the Kenyan government stand up against foreign pressures and uphold its commitment to safeguard the rights of all individuals seeking refuge on its soil?

The time to act is now. Let us not allow Nairobi to be branded as a city where the oppressed are hunted rather than protected.

Rather than accepting a narrative built on fear and oppression, we must tell a different story—one where compassion and integrity guide our policies and actions.

In confronting these harrowing realities, we must ask ourselves: Can we still call Nairobi a haven? Or are we witnessing the slow unraveling of a city that once promised safety and peace?

The answers lie in our resolve to advocate for justice, safety, and dignity for every individual.

 Joseph Muraya is the Crime Journalists Association of Kenya Chairperson.