As a result of Kenya’s recent invasion of Somalia, the situation in Kenyan refugee camps has sharply deteriorated and is now on the verge of a full-scale humanitarian crisis. In Dadaab, the largest refugee camp on earth with close to half a million people, cholera has broken out, services have deteriorated, and access for both humanitarian agencies and international observers (including press) has become even more difficult.
Refugee camps in northern Kenya, mostly swollen with Somali refugees escaping sporadic fighting and insecurity in their native land, are restless. Naturally Dadaab remains the biggest problem, although other camps are growing, including Kakuma, which in Swahili word means “nowhere.” The people in these camps have lost all hope of going back or moving forward. The war in Somalia prevents them from returning home, while Kenya does not give them an opportunity to resettle on its territory or even to travel outside the camps. Many have been born in these camps, brought up there, and probably will never leave.
Also restless is the Eastleigh neighborhood in Nairobi, often nicknamed Little Mogadishu. Anti-Somali feelings in Kenya are on the rise. Kenya is a country with a long and deep history of racially motivated violence that includes post-election violence in 2008 that left thousands dead. Since the invasion of Somalia, government officials and ordinary citizens have been uttering ominous threats, like “cleaning up Eastleigh.” An employee of an international agency operating in Nairobi – a U.S. citizen of Somali origin – told me that she had been harassed on several occasions simply because of her appearance.
In the meantime, thousands of families in Nairobi – both Kenyan and Somali – have become victims of what officials often call the Kenyan war on terror. In the last days and weeks, police and army officials accompanying excavators and bulldozers have torn down slum dwellings as well as multi-story buildings. The official explanation is that these buildings intrude on the flight path of military planes. Nairobi has three major airports. Since these military planes could approach from two directions, it allows the government to destroy the dwellings of tens of thousands of people if it chooses to do so.
Visiting one of the demolition sites in Eastleigh, I was told by Gilbert, a former resident: “There is no discussion and no negotiation. That’s how it is in Kenya. They call it democracy, but in fact the government can come and throw us onto the street. If we protest, they shoot to kill.”
We’re not backing down in the face of Trump’s threats.
As Donald Trump is inaugurated a second time, independent media organizations are faced with urgent mandates: Tell the truth more loudly than ever before. Do that work even as our standard modes of distribution (such as social media platforms) are being manipulated and curtailed by forces of fascist repression and ruthless capitalism. Do that work even as journalism and journalists face targeted attacks, including from the government itself. And do that work in community, never forgetting that we’re not shouting into a faceless void – we’re reaching out to real people amid a life-threatening political climate.
Our task is formidable, and it requires us to ground ourselves in our principles, remind ourselves of our utility, dig in and commit.
As a dizzying number of corporate news organizations – either through need or greed – rush to implement new ways to further monetize their content, and others acquiesce to Trump’s wishes, now is a time for movement media-makers to double down on community-first models.
At Truthout, we are reaffirming our commitments on this front: We won’t run ads or have a paywall because we believe that everyone should have access to information, and that access should exist without barriers and free of distractions from craven corporate interests. We recognize the implications for democracy when information-seekers click a link only to find the article trapped behind a paywall or buried on a page with dozens of invasive ads. The laws of capitalism dictate an unending increase in monetization, and much of the media simply follows those laws. Truthout and many of our peers are dedicating ourselves to following other paths – a commitment which feels vital in a moment when corporations are evermore overtly embedded in government.
Over 80 percent of Truthout‘s funding comes from small individual donations from our community of readers, and the remaining 20 percent comes from a handful of social justice-oriented foundations. Over a third of our total budget is supported by recurring monthly donors, many of whom give because they want to help us keep Truthout barrier-free for everyone.
You can help by giving today. Whether you can make a small monthly donation or a larger gift, Truthout only works with your support.