From left: Tanzanian activist Maria Sarungi Tsehai, Ugandan opposition politician Kizza Besigye, Kenyan activist Bob Njagi and Zimbabwean lawyer Brian Kagoro.
Zimbabwean lawyer Brian Kagoro landed in Nairobi’s Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA) on Sunday, February 22, for what he expected would have been a routine reception.
But instead of the usual pleasantries as one is ushered through immigration desks, Mr Kagoro was denied entry, detained and expelled.
Mr Kagoro, the Africa Director of the Open Society Foundations, has worked across the continent for decades advancing governance reforms, constitutionalism and human rights. Known in legal and policy circles for his advocacy and scholarship, he is regarded as one of Africa’s most recognisable civic voices. His colleagues describe him as a Pan-Africanist.
But Kenyan authorities denied him entry without written reasons or formal explanation — an omission that rights groups say raises serious procedural and legal concerns.
In a statement issued on Thursday, the International Commission of Jurists (ICJ) Kenya expressed “grave concern” saying it “strongly condemns the recent detention and subsequent expulsion of Mr Brian Kagoro.”
ICJ Kenya said Mr Kagoro “was not provided with any explanation or the reasons he was held,” nor was he given “a written notification detailing the reasons for the denial of entry.”
The rights group warned that the move reflects a broader pattern of repression against civic actors aimed at “silencing independent voices across Kenya and dismantling the increasingly limited space that remains for accountability, justice and the defence of human rights.”
For many within civil society networks, Mr Kagoro’s expulsion is not a routine immigration decision. Instead, it is being interpreted as a symbolic moment — a signal that even globally respected figures are no longer insulated from restrictive State action.
On the same day the drama was unfolding at JKIA, about 30 kilometres away another incident deepened those fears.
Tanzanian human rights defender Mshabaha Mshabaha Hamza — known for his advocacy on democracy and accountability — was found in a dazed state, reportedly drugged, injured and abandoned near Lukenya stage after resisting attackers. Preliminary investigations suggested he had been violently abducted in Kenya in what appeared to be a premeditated attempt to spirit him to Tanzania.
According to documents before the court, officers responded promptly after Mr Mshabaha resisted his attackers and was dumped at the Lukenya stage. Police officers intercepted their vehicle and arrested three occupants: Edward Mwangi Mwai, a Kenyan residing in South Africa; Nelson Wanjohi Kirika, the driver; and Aziz Hamad, a Tanzanian national.
In a joint statement, outgoing Law Society of Kenya President Faith Odhiambo and Amnesty International-Kenya Executive Director Irungu Houghton commended the swift police response but warned of wider implications.
“Attempts to abduct, harm, or silence activists violate fundamental freedoms across the East African region,” they said. “Kenya must ensure that its territory is never used for transnational repression, rendition, or attacks on those exercising their right to defend human rights.”
Two events. One day. One unmistakable message: activists are no longer welcome.
But the warning signs had been evident long before the latest incidents.
On July 5, 2025, Ugandan human rights defender Martin Mavenjina was deported from Kenya to Uganda despite holding a valid work visa. Mr Mavenjina, who worked with the Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC), had travelled briefly to Johannesburg for a legal forum. On returning, he was detained at JKIA and sent back to Uganda without public explanation.
The Africa Judges and Jurists Forum said it was “deeply concerned about the deportation of Mavenjina, describing him as “a renowned and distinguished human rights practitioner.”
Kenyan activist Bob Njagi (second right) is received with family members and friends at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi on November 8, 2025, following their return home from Uganda where they had been detained.
“This raises serious concerns about adherence to due process, human rights and the rule of law…We demand a detailed public account of the facts and circumstances resulting in Mr Mavenjina’s deportation,” the Forum stated.
Just weeks later, on July 26, last year, KHRC reported the abduction and enforced disappearance of Kenyan activist Mwabili Mwagodi in Dar es Salaam. The organisation noted that “the Kenyan and Tanzanian regimes have remained ominously silent.”
Mr Mwagodi had previously led a protest in Nyahururu against President William Ruto’s administration. His family said he had been under surveillance before his disappearance and that officers from the Directorate of Criminal Investigations had visited relatives issuing threats.
KHRC described alleged cooperation between Kenyan and Tanzanian authorities in suppressing activists as “deliberate, coordinated, and criminal,” calling it “the hallmarks of an authoritarian regime that has lost the legitimacy to govern.”
To fully grasp the trajectory, analysts say one must look back to 2024 — the year abductions began to feel routine rather than exceptional.
In November 2024, Ugandan opposition leader Kizza Besigye was abducted in Nairobi and later resurfaced in Kampala. His abduction on Kenyan soil shattered a long-held belief among regional dissidents that Nairobi was effectively neutral ground — a place where political exiles, journalists and activists could operate without fear of cross-border pursuit.
Around the same period, Tanzanian activist Maria Sarungi Tsehai survived an attempted kidnapping in Nairobi. A prominent critic of authoritarianism in Tanzania, Sarungi had relocated to Kenya seeking safety. The attempt to seize her in exile deepened fears that cross-border repression was becoming normalised across East Africa.
Tanzanian activist Maria Sarungi.
But foreign activists were not the only targets.
In 2024, Kenyan activist Bob Njagi and the Longton brothers were abducted and disappeared for a month over their criticism of government. Families searched desperately, moving from police stations to morgues in vain. For weeks there was silence — no official acknowledgement, no explanation, no confirmation they were alive.
When they resurfaced, observers said the psychological toll was unmistakable. Enforced disappearance is not only a physical act; it is a method of intimidation designed to deter others from speaking out.
A year later, in August 2025, Njagi — president of the Free Kenya Movement — would endure another ordeal. He and the movement’s Secretary-General Nicholas Oyoo were reportedly held incommunicado by Ugandan authorities for 38 days.
Rights defenders see a pattern in these incidents that is difficult to dismiss as coincidence.
The methods vary: denial of entry without explanation, deportation despite valid documentation, abduction and enforced disappearance, surveillance of families, intimidation, cross-border renditions and prolonged incommunicado detention.
Human rights defenders from across the region note that many of these incidents involve administrative powers that normally receive limited public scrutiny. Immigration controls, intelligence cooperation and national security mechanisms are often shielded from transparency requirements.
Kenya’s Constitution guarantees freedoms of movement, expression, association and fair administrative action. Rights that were fought for through decades of civic struggle, legal advocacy and public mobilisation. Civil society organisations played a pivotal role in shaping the country’s democratic architecture and continue to serve as watchdogs over state power. Now, many of those same organisations say they feel increasingly constrained.
Ugandan opposition politician Kizza Besigye.
In a recent interview with the Nation, Foreign Affairs Permanent Secretary Korir Sing’Oei responded to concerns about Kenya supporting other countries to torture their citizens by illegally extraditing them to their country. This was the accusation that came with the recent deportations of Mr Besigye and Turkish nationals from Kenyan soil.
PS Sing’Oei, in response, said that the world is currently existing in a “complex geopolitical environment” adding that Kenya must be sensitive to the requests made by different countries. In doing so, the PS confirmed that the deportations are not random; they follow communication between states within and outside Africa.
“Those requests must be weighed by principles that are fundamental to a country like Kenya. Each case is dealt with on its own merit…With respect to the other cases, again, it is important to say that we have frameworks of cooperation in the furtherance of collective security between our countries, and sometimes we get requests from these countries to apprehend or hand over individuals,” he said.
In the case of Besigye, the PS explained, the opposition chief was just travelling and that the government was not in any way “complicit in anything that could have happened to these individuals upon their departure from our territory.”
“It was not within our knowledge what treatment Besigye would be subjected to. If he had offended Ugandan law, we knew he would be subjected to due process in their country, and that remains our overriding understanding,” he said.
The implications extend beyond Kenya’s borders. East Africa’s political landscape is deeply interconnected, with activists, lawyers and journalists frequently collaborating across countries. As a result, restrictive measures in one state can have cascading effects throughout the region.
“When one government successfully removes or intimidates a dissident beyond its borders, neighbouring states may feel emboldened to adopt similar tactics,” Mr Houghton said during the failed kidnapping attempt of Ms Sarungi.
Diplomats privately acknowledge that transnational repression — the targeting of critics beyond national borders — has become a growing global concern. In regions where security agencies cooperate closely, the risk of abuse increases if oversight mechanisms remain weak or opaque.
In her inaugural visit to Sub-Saharan Africa, the European Union’s Special Representative on Human Rights, Kajsa Ollongren noted the disturbing trend of East African states, particularly Kenya, of clamping down on civil rights.
Kenya, Ms Ollongren said, is rightly proud of its democratic tradition adding that “there is a willingness here to uphold it.
“I do not believe anyone would want to see situations like those we have observed elsewhere repeated here. There is always room for improvement. While certain security or political issues may need to be addressed, activists, vulnerable groups and young protesters mustn't become victims in the process,
“People have legitimate concerns and there must be space to voice them through demonstrations and protests, without violence. A strong, resilient society allows critical voices. That strengthens democracy rather than weakens it,” she said.
The past two years suggest a troubling trajectory not only for Kenya but for the wider region. If present trends continue, activists worry that they may soon find themselves operating in an environment where legal rights exist on paper but feel increasingly fragile in practice.
And when activists begin to disappear — whether at airports, on city streets, or across borders — the question is no longer about individual cases. It is about the direction of the state itself.
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