Latest news with #BillyMwangi
The Guardian
01-05-2025
- The Guardian
Tortured over a tweet: how the war between Kenya's Gen Z and their president has moved online
Billy Mwangi is a 24-year-old student who lives in Embu, 125km north-east of Nairobi. He loves watching football with his dad, likes to hang out with his friends and enjoys playing video games with his brother. He also ran a popular account on X which he used to post about politics from time to time. 'I like to defend people' he says. 'When Kenyans are not happy I always wanted to voice my concern, because I've had political ambitions for a while now.' On 22 December 2024, as Kenyans prepared for the festive season, Mwangi had gone to get a haircut, before heading to church. As he stepped out of the barbers, a man with a gun approached him. Within moments, he was forced into a car. That weekend, four other young men were kidnapped under similar circumstances. What followed was a 15-day nightmare of torture, humiliation and uncertainty as to their fate. 'I was tortured and beaten up. It was too much, life there wasn't good,' says Mwangi. Bernard Kavuli, another abductee, described the conditions in an affidavit: the captives were stripped naked, handcuffed and beaten daily, sometimes with electric cables. Mwangi believes he was abducted because he had posted an AI-generated picture of President William Ruto in a coffin. It went viral, sparking its way across Kenyan social media where users would post AI generated pictures of political leaders in coffins. 'I used to see stories on abductions on TV but I never thought it would be something that would happen to me.' Two of the other young Kenyans who were abducted believe they were also targeted for political satire. Gideon Kibet, 24, who goes by the name Kibet Bull, had created some distinctive black-and-white silhouette cartoons mocking Ruto, which he published on X. Peter Muteti also created AI-generated coffin images of the president. Mwangi was released without charge on 6 January. He had lost track of time, unaware that a new year had come and gone. 'From that day my life has been ruined. I can't go to town, I cannot have any fun because my parents and I are worried for my safety. But I must move on, because if I don't think about the future I will never heal.' The police have denied any involvement. Data from the Kenya National Commission on Human Rights (KNHRC) shows there were at least 82 abductions in 2024. The KNHRC also notes that the bulk of these kidnappings intensified during and in the aftermath of the #RejectFinanceBill protests in June last year. A national security report tabled in parliament in January 2025 noted that there was a 44% rise in abductions in 2024. Politicians allied to Kenya's ruling party, the United Democratic Alliance (UDA), dismissed the disappearances, claiming young Kenyans were abducting themselves. In response Mwangi says: 'The reason I'm speaking about my ordeal is to let people know that we did not abduct ourselves. I did not abduct myself. Abduction is real.' Kenya's youth have long been courted as a political prize – promised jobs, reforms and a voice in governance, only to be sidelined once elections are over, with successive governments concentrating power in the hands of a privileged few. In 2022, Ruto ascended to power on the back of a populist surge fuelled by the promise of change. A self-proclaimed 'hustler' and former chicken seller, Ruto crafted an image as a reformer – an outsider who had experienced the system's neglect first-hand. He cast his opponents, the Azimio la Umoja coalition, as 'dynasties', making him relatable to many. He promised Kenya's youth millions of jobs with his 'bottom-up economic model'. One of his campaign slogans was 'Freedom is coming'. To Kenya's youth, that promise now feels like a cruel joke. 'There's no positive thing happening in this country,' says Mwangi. 'Every day when I watch the news nothing is working. President Ruto brainwashed us with his message of bottom-up; it was a script but nothing was genuine. Everything is a mess.' The narrative Ruto once crafted – a champion of youthful hope and opportunity – has dissolved into a bitter contest between a president and the generation he claimed to come into power to save. Kenya's gen Z voters, those between 18 and 28 years old, find themselves at the centre of a fight not just for economic opportunity but for what they say is the soul of their nation. The author Darius Okolla says: 'Decades of these failed promises to different generations meant that those who occupy the position of being young today can see that their elders cannot afford to retire, and their older siblings – millennials – have stagnated. It has led them to question if the same political and economic systems that didn't work for their parents and elder siblings would work for them.' Okolla adds: 'They also find themselves in a colonial legacy that casts youth as both potential disruptors and dangerous elements requiring tight control.' The events of June 2024 underscored this reality: what began as a vibrant, decentralised uprising coordinated through social media platforms rapidly turned into a stark confrontation between youthful optimism and state repression. For a brief, electrifying moment, young Kenyans experienced a collective hope but the regime responded with alarming precision: activists were abducted and disinformation campaigns were run against them; clashes with security forces escalated; more than 60 people have been killed since the June protests, and Kenya experienced its first internet shutdown on 25 June – a calculated move designed to sever the digital lifeline of dissent. In the wake of the violent crackdown on protests, Kenya's youth has increasingly turned to digital dissent. 'Since the events of June, we've seen the rise of a hypervigilant public, which has become a lot more consistent with the demands for accountability. Their actions online especially have been day in, day out and week in, week out,' says Okolla. For example, the hashtag #FufuaICC, calling for the return of the international criminal court (ICC) case against Ruto, emerged in December 2024. Additionally, more than 20,000 people signed a petition started by the Kenyan diaspora asking the Dutch government to reconsider its royal visit to Kenya in March, highlighting concerns over human rights abuses. Kenya's government has taken notice. Ruto's recently hired cabinet secretary for information and communication technology, William Kabogo, has openly endorsed measures to regulate social media, using the example of generative AI content – such as the images posted by Mwangi – and 'hate speech' as justification. Sign up to Global Dispatch Get a different world view with a roundup of the best news, features and pictures, curated by our global development team after newsletter promotion On 17 January, Kenya's Ministry of the Interior issued a directive demanding that social media firms set up offices in the country 'to ensure responsibility and accountability in the face of rising disinformation, social media manipulation and online abuse'. They would later soften their stance. Victor Ndede, a manager at Amnesty Kenya, says: 'These statements by government organs and personnel are deeply concerning, especially in the wake of the wave of abductions of online activists. 'Free expression is a fundamental right and any concerns around disinformation or hateful content should be addressed through human rights-compliant measures provided under the constitution. Such moves criminalise dissent, lead to self censorship and silence alternative voices.' Kenya's attempts at marshalling online speech have been paired with attempts by the government to change the rules governing protest. The assembly and demonstration bill 2024, for example, proposes banning protesters from wearing anything that may obscure their identification, and demands names of the conveners of a protest be registered with the police. Artistic expression has also come under fire in the country, exemplified by the controversy surrounding a play by Butere girls high school, Echoes of War. The play, critiquing governance and youth struggles, was banned by the government but reinstated by court order. The eventual performance at the national drama festival in Nakuru County was marred by police interference, including the detention of playwright and former senator Cleophas Malala and the use of teargas, leading every student at the festival to refuse to perform in protest. The government has not responded to the Guardian's request for comment. As Ruto's government tightens its grip on protest, he has used rallies and public addresses to frame the generation he once courted as deluded elites, out of touch with the grim realities of the debt-laden economy. But the clampdown against protest has only served to strengthen young people's resolve. Across borders and platforms, online campaigns have brought international attention to domestic injustices, using memes, satire and viral humour as a chief strategy. 'There are very few things a politician despises more than being laughed at,' says Justine Wanda, a Kenyan standup comedian. When Ruto pushed unpopular tax measures, Kenyans called him Zakayo, after the despised biblical tax collector. When he promised Nairobi a chapati-making machine to support the school meals programme, they called him El Chapo. His frequent foreign trips earned him the nickname Kasongo, a nod to a Rhumba song by the popular band Super Orchestra Mazembe about a woman urging her husband, Kasongo, to return to their marriage. Each nickname comes with an explosion of memes, TikToks and AI-generated images. Every time Ruto embraced a name, a new one emerged. 'Satire and humour have always been ways Kenyans engage with the state, but now, platforms like TikTok amplify it instantly,' says Wanda. But online activism has been about survival as well as protest. Those who were abducted cite the public outrage Kenyans expressed online as key to their release. 'People really helped me. During my abduction they would go to the streets to demand my release and they made a lot of noise online,' says Mwangi. Existing forms of solidarity – such as Kenyans' culture of donation when people are in need – achieved powerful outcomes when merged with digital organising. Hanifa Adan Safia, 28, raised $300,000 (£226,000) via M-Changa – a crowdfunding platform – to aid victims of police brutality during the gen Z protests. Her campaign was organised largely on X. These same channels are also used to raise bail and legal fees for activists. 'We organize not because we have all the answers, but because we believe in showing up for each other,' says Safia. 'Our solidarity is our strongest resistance' For those involved, this isn't just about fighting repression – it is about reclaiming power. Asked about his hopes for Kenya's future, Mwangi says: 'I want to encourage young people to vie for political seats. The government is not controlled by young people. Our politicians put self interest first instead of serving the people.' Referring to the next election, he adds: 'We must do something come 2027.'
Times of Oman
10-02-2025
- Politics
- Times of Oman
To fight dissent, Kenya clamps down on social media, AI
Nairobi: A silent war is unfolding in Kenya, not on the streets but in the vast, uncharted world of the internet. Kenya's digital landscape is at a breaking point, as the government clamps down on AI-generated content and social media activism, igniting what many have described as a ticking time bomb of online resistance. In recent months, Kenya has witnessed a series of abductions targeting government critics. Notably, individuals such as cartoonist Gideon Kibet and 24-year-old Billy Mwangi were reportedly abducted after sharing AI-generated images depicting Kenyan President William Ruto in a coffin. The Kenya National Commission on Human Rights reported 82 cases of abductions since June 2024, with at least 29 people still missing as of last month. While some abductees, including Kibet and Mwangi, were released without explanation, Kenyan authorities have denied involvement in the disappearances. AI fuels dissent With AI-generated protests, viral political satire, and tech-savvy activists challenging authority, officials are scrambling to rein in a digital revolution that refuses to be silenced, leaving the East African nation standing at the crossroads of innovation and intimidation. As artificial intelligence fuels digital dissent, the government is tightening its grip on social media, wielding regulations against an increasingly vocal online population. Mark Kaigwa, a tech visionary and founder of Nairobi-based digital marketing company Nendo, told DW he sees a pattern emerging. "Citizens have, in their own way, been exercising what some would call 'greater than their freedom of expression' and many might describe as well within their rights," he said. With AI-generated protest anthems, satirical deepfakes, and viral political memes flooding the digital sphere, Kenya's online activism is evolving faster than authorities can contain it. AI and the battle for narrative control One of the biggest challenges has been AI tools like Grok, embedded into X (formerly Twitter), allowing users to create shockingly realistic political imagery. With Kenya's leaders frequently the subject of these AI creations, tensions are rising over how to control the technology without stifling free speech. "Ever since Elon Musk and his team integrated Grok … their generative AI platform, you can generate images in there and some of the ones that have been generated have been of political leaders in coffins," Kaigwa revealed. "And some of those, of course, can be grotesque and macabre, but the question is now where this tension comes in — because you're no longer talking just about AI, you're talking about AI inside of a very popular social network." Kenyan Interior Minister Kipchumba Murkomen last month condemned the use of AI-generated images targeting political leaders. "We will ensure that those using social media to threaten others face the full force of the law," he said. Kenyan officials have floated the idea of requiring social media companies to set up local offices for better regulatory oversight. However, as Kaigwa pointed out, "All of them have a physical office, except for X now formerly known as Twitter." Kenyans on X: a digital force Kenya has long been a digital powerhouse. The country pioneered mobile money with M-Pesa, boasts a thriving startup ecosystem, and has a social media culture that punches far above its weight. The phenomenon of "Kenyans on X" has reached global prominence, with online activism shaking governments, brands, and even foreign leaders. Kaigwa recounted how a planned visit by the Dutch king nearly collapsed under the weight of Kenyan digital resistance. "And even recently, we've seen an announcement of the Dutch monarchy, with the king of the Netherlands set to come to Kenya, and the actual Dutch monarchy reporting that their entire IT systems were overwhelmed with people writing emails saying, 'Hey, we don't think you should come.'" The government's struggle to control digital dissent has taken a darker turn, with allegations of online influencers being abducted or threatened. "The current regime of the day has also struggled, really, with what we might call controlling the narrative, or controlling public perception on social networks," Kaigwa said. "It's partly the reason that a number of prominent social media figures tend to be some of the ones abducted or who go missing and end up with serious questions regarding the authorities." A continent-wide crackdown Kenya's moves mirror a growing trend across Africa. "If we look to Kenya's neighbor Uganda, they've gone about this quite differently," Kaigwa noted. "Over the last few years, they have had a social media tax, which meant that people had to pay the government a certain amount individually to access social networks and their messages and content there, they have done social media shutdowns." Internet blackouts have become a favored tool for many African governments, with estimates showing they cost economies billions of dollars in lost revenue. Kenya itself has dipped its toe into these waters. "Even in Kenya, Kenya has had several shutdowns, and most recently, just a few short months ago, I believe, in November, a shutdown of the messaging app Telegram as national exams took place," Kaigwa said. Kenya's AI dilemma: innovation or censorship? While cracking down on digital expression, Kenya is also positioning itself as a leader in AI policy. Ambassador Philip Tigo, Kenya's special envoy for technology and AI, has been actively engaging with global stakeholders to unlock investment and shape international policy. However, Kaigwa argues that Kenya's AI crackdown is selective. "I would argue it's not all of AI, really, here. It's a very particular type of use of AI — so generative AI, which is a subset, and then specifically, it tends to be some of the imagery that's been used." The broader concern is misinformation and deepfakes, which are already making it harder to distinguish reality from fabrication. "Even if you knew who said it first, there's a question of whether you can find the identity of that person and to what degree that's infringing on their personal rights of expression." Kenya stands at a defining moment: Will it embrace its reputation as Africa's Silicon Savannah, championing free expression in the digital age? Or will it follow the path of digital repression, controlling the online narrative through regulations and crackdowns? For now, as Kaigwa puts it, "Kenyans are likely, to some degree, to seek to resist it."
