The Shadow Pipeline Feeding Russia’s War

Written by Camilla Taylor, Senior Sub-Editor, BA International Relations.

When Stephen Odour (false name) arrived in St. Petersburg, Russia, last August, he believed he was at the start of a bright new future. After months of being unemployed in Nairobi, the plumbing job he had secured in Russia promised stability and a chance to support his family. However, from the moment he left the airport, he sensed something was wrong. He wasn’t driven to a worksite but to a house where his luggage was taken. Later, he says, he was brought to a police station, fingerprinted and forced to sign documents written in Russian. The following day, he was transported to a large military facility to be issued identification papers. Only then did he realise: he had been enlisted in the Russian armed forces. 

Odour is one of more than 200 Kenyans and hundreds of other Africans who say they have been lured to Russia with promises of civilian jobs, only to find themselves deployed to the front lines of the war in Ukraine. 

“In a world of unequal mobility, some passports open borders, but others open battlefields. The question is no longer whether war is global; it is who the world asks to fight it."

According to a Kenyan intelligence report presented to parliament, roughly 1,000 Kenyans in total have been recruited to fight for Russia. As of February, 89 were confirmed on the front line in Ukraine, 30 hospitalised, and 28 listed as missing in action. Since December, 28 have been repatriated, according to the Kenyan Foreign Affairs Principal Secretary, Abraham Korir Sing’Oei. On 19th February, protests erupted, with families demanding government intervention. 

The issue extends beyond Kenya. Ukraine’s Foreign Minister, Andri Sybiha, said last year that more than 1,400 citizens from 36 African countries were fighting for Russia in Ukraine, with many now being held in Ukrainian prisoner-of-war camps. 

Investigations suggest the existence of a structured recruitment network spanning multiple countries. Men report responding to online advertisements for jobs as security guards, drivers, or engineers. They were promised contracts of up to $13,000 monthly salaries, of $3,500 bonuses and, in some cases, Russian citizenship. Routes initially passed through Turkey and the United Arab Emirates on tourist visas. However, following increased scrutiny at Nairobi’s Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, recruiters allegedly rerouted candidates through South Africa, Uganda, and neighbouring states. 

The Embassy of the Russian Federation in Kenya has strongly denied the allegations, calling them ‘dangerous and misleading.’ In a statement released on the 19th February, Russia claimed it had ‘never engaged in illegal recruitment’ of Kenyan citizens. Whilst Russia maintains it does not recruit foreigners, its law allows foreign nationals, who are legally present in the country, to enlist voluntarily. 

Kenyan Foreign Minister Musalia Mudavadi states that more than 600 recruitment agencies suspected of duping Kenyans with fake job offers have been shut down, and diplomatic discussions with Moscow are ongoing. 

Ukrainian officials have warned, however, that anyone fighting for Russia will be treated as an enemy combatant. 

Francis Ndung’u Ndarua, aged 35, left Kenya after being offered work as an electrical engineer. His mother, Anner Ndaura, says she has not heard from him since October. In December, she received a video of her son warning other Africans not to accept job offers in Russia. ‘You’ll end up being taken to the military,’ he said, ‘Many friends have died in the name of money.’ A week later, footage circulated online appearing to show him in uniform with a landmine strapped to his chest, as a Russian-speaking man tells him he will be used as a ‘can-opener’ to breach Ukrainian army positions. 

Other African recruits interviewed by CNN described signing military contracts in Russian without being given translation or legal advice. Some say their passports were confiscated. Training reportedly lasted as little as nine days before deployment. One fighter said, ‘I’ve been here for seven months, and I haven’t been paid a single cent.’ 

African participation in European wars has a long history. During the First World War and Second World War, more than one million African soldiers fought in campaigns across Africa and Europe, with many forcibly conscripted into colonial armies. 

Today’s recruits are not colonial subjects, yet the pattern invites comparison. Before, imperial powers mobilised colonial manpower for European wars, with promises of imperial recognition. Now, economically vulnerable migrants appear drawn into a foreign war economy, hopeful of acquiring citizenship. The uniforms have changed, but the inequality persists. Whether this constitutes a new form of manpower extraction is debated, but the echoes are difficult to ignore. 

The conflict in Ukraine may be geographically European, but it is increasingly sustained by transnational labour flows. Recruitment networks span continents; migration routes feed battlefields. Social media videos romanticise military service, with some men in uniform telling viewers in Africa that joining the Russian army is “very easy and lucrative.” 

If the twentieth-century empires conscripted colonial subjects, twenty-first century conflicts appear, in some cases, to recruit through economic desperation. War has become embedded in global labour markets, where inequality shapes who fights and who decides. 

Governments are navigating a complex diplomatic terrain. South Africa’s President, Cyril Ramaphosa, recently thanked President Vladimir Putin for assisting in the return of South Africans allegedly tricked into joining the conflict. Mercenary activity is illegal in South Africa without government authorisation, and investigations into recruitment are ongoing. 

Back in Nairobi, families continue to wait for news. The war in Ukraine is fought on European soil, yet its human cost is increasingly global. For many young African men, migration promises opportunity, but now it increasingly carries the risk of militarisation. In a world of unequal mobility, some passports open borders, but others open battlefields. The question is no longer whether war is global; it is who the world asks to fight it.