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The Blind Spot: A Graphic Novel on Food Security and Farmers’ Rights
7 min read.Chief Nyamweya shines a light on the central issues of food security and the welfare of smallholder farmers in Kenya.

Some time back in May 2020, an incident occurred in Mombasa that stunned the nation. The Daily Nation reported a story of a Kisauni widow who was forced to boil stones to give her children false hope that she had some food for them. The story sent shockwaves across the country and ignited a conversation about the magnitude of the hunger plaguing Kenyan households.
The story of Peninah Kitsao is not an isolated incident. All over the country, ordinary Kenyans are struggling to put food on the table due to biting inflation that has seen commodity prices soar to nearly unaffordable levels. Failed rains and a drought of a severity never witnessed before in the history of the country, especially in northern Kenya, have worsened a dire situation.
Interventions by state and non-state actors have arguably not been enough as there have been reports from certain parts, such as Samburu, of people drinking dirty water and eating dog meat to survive. The country is essentially in a deep hole. Coupled with the drying up of the rivers and lakes that used to serve vulnerable communities, it is safe to say that the government and other agencies have had blind spots in dealing with the situation.
Route to Food Initiative’s graphic novel The Blind Spot, which is written and illustrated by Chief Nyamweya, should be read against the backdrop of some of these startling developments. The work of committed art is to expose the ills in society, not just by dropping popular catchphrases and revolutionary slogans, but by disturbing the conscience of the nation. Such works of art are expected to put us on track for what needs to be done to set things right.
That’s exactly what Nyamweya’s comic offering is all about.
Worrying policy gaps
The central issues of food security and the welfare of smallholder farmers shine throughout the slim graphic novel, bringing into sharp focus policy gaps and a lack of commitment from leaders to correct the mistakes of the past.
The visual narrative opens with a protest by Kajibora residents and farmers at the Kajibora County Hall. Chanting outside the county governor’s residence, the agitated crowd demands justice for one of their own, Karisa, who has committed suicide after auctioneers sell his land to recover an unpaid debt.
The protest also provides the space and opportunity for the residents and farmers to demand “lower prices on food, better quality food and enhanced protection of Kenya’s ecosystems [and] land reforms.” Demonstrations are not new in the country; with livelihoods threatened by forces beyond their control even as the national and county governments drag their feet to alleviate the suffering, it is inevitable that ordinary people would take such drastic measures.
The Mzee Maona-led Jembe Revolution calls on Governor Nyoni to deal with food insecurity as a human rights issue and to protect smallholder farmers from predatory multinationals. The corporations are often accused of exploitation through the introduction of harmful production methods and industrial processes that threaten biodiversity.
The fictionalised revolution echoes the vigorous pushback by various stakeholders, including farmers, politicians and ordinary Kenyans, who have questioned the government’s proposal to introduce genetically modified foods.
While those in support of the introduction of genetically modified organisms (GMOs) into the country have a valid argument that Kenya and the continent at large are dealing with a serious food crisis that needs never-before-tested solutions, those against them argue that farmers and consumers are likely to suffer. This is because there are growing fears that the multinationals that distribute GM seeds will have the monopoly to dictate to farmers which seeds to use, and the scenario is likely to deny them the agency to produce food on their own terms and according to their preferences.
Putting Western interests first
In other words, the prioritisation of Western interests, as it often emerges in Nyamweya’s narrative, where the governor is accused of focusing on “the large scale production of a few food crops and protecting the interests of big agribusiness”, is a reality that policymakers will have to contend with to effectively address the issue of food security in the country.
A DW documentary titled Africa, GMOs and Western Interests, which aired two months ago, revealed the hidden hand of philanthropists such as Bill Gates, through the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, in pushing for the introduction of GMOs in select African countries to benefit private businesses in the West. Therefore, when Kajibora farmers and residents, through their Chama cha Wakulima (CCW) party, wave a placard reading SAVE OUR SEEDS, they are not expressing a grievance coming from without but a genuine fear born out of the reality that, on the one hand, the forces of globalisation are unavoidable (food production systems and the overall supply chain can never only be local) and on the other, the reality of the weak political system that hardly prioritises the interests of its citizens, least of all smallholder farmers.
To give credit where it is due, President William Ruto’s introduction of the fertiliser subsidy is likely to be a game changer for a majority of farmers who are unable to afford the essential commodity. The subsidised fertiliser is retailing at KSh3,500 for a 50kg bag, down from KSh6,000. The use of technology for registration (farmers use their phones) will also help eliminate red tape and corruption and thus improve efficiency in distribution, which is key to the timely use of the fertiliser to boost yields.
The cries and anxieties of the Kajibora farmers take a dramatic twist following the death of Mzee Maona when CCW is wracked by fissures as various members pull in different directions. As is characteristic of Kenyan political parties not founded on a solid vision and ideology, the core issues—such as sustainable agriculture for the farmers—that define the party’s agenda become a footnote. Instead, the so-called ideological differences (a euphemism for selfish interests) erupt during the requiem mass for Maona when party members engage in a vicious fistfight before the bereaved mourners.
Enter the scions of Mzee Maona, Sifa and Yona—highly educated, exposed and polished but with contrastingly opposing views on how to reimagine the patriarch’s vision of putting the farmers’ agenda first—and the narrative is set for a fascinating climax.
What emerges from the troubled relationship between Sifa, a professor, and Yona, now an aspiring Kajibora governor, are the intra-generational tensions of how to approach the pressures and complicated issues that have become synonymous with modern living. This is especially true when it comes to championing the rights of ordinary people such as farmers.
As is characteristic of Kenyan political parties not founded on a solid vision and ideology, the core issues that defined the party’s agenda become a footnote.
Sifa is distrustful of the political process for fixing societal issues. She is an advocate of fighting for human rights from outside the political process since, in politics, you “promise the people paradise while only delivering paperwork”. While her worldview is sometimes abstract and detached and elitist, she deserves credit for not losing focus on the immediate priorities that should be urgently addressed to make life better for small-scale farmers.
Yona, on the other hand, styles himself as a pragmatist and realist who is in touch with what is happening on the ground but comes across as vain, selfish and arrogant. He is a perfect representative of Kenya’s political class for whom governance is about foreign investment, rather than the people. He says that “a key part [of his] job as governor will be to attract investment to Kajibora”. This includes doing the bidding of multinationals like Green Shots Corporation, which is accused of controlling the food prices and the supply chains that are vital to farmers and consumers.
The role of the youth
However, what is poignant in the clash between Mzee Maona’s two grandchildren is the involvement of the youth—whether for good or bad—in debating the issues of food security and fair agricultural policies. While their approaches are often different, there is a genuine concern and passion that, in real life, should be encouraged and even rewarded.
Statistics indicate that the average age of the Kenyan farmer is 61 years. A revival of the 4K Clubs that were the craze in the 1990s under the 8-4-4 education system has been mooted as a way to entice young people to return to the soil. These are noble interventions that are likely to boost agricultural output since the youthful population is not just energetic enough to take up the challenge but also because modern farming involves access to the right information which a tech-savvy generation can exploit in this digital age.
When Dalili, a member of the CCW and a former close ally of Mzee Maona, encourages Sifa to join them on the anniversary of Jembe Day commemorating the revolt of Kajibora farmers and residents, she is essentially signalling a new way of addressing food insecurity. She tells Sifa that “our youth need to see where it all started”. The statement is profound because it acknowledges both the complexity and enormity of the task of streamlining food systems and the urgent need to bring diverse groups of people on board.
More importantly, sustainable agriculture has the potential to create jobs for thousands of jobless youth unable to secure the increasingly elusive white-collar jobs. According to the November 2022 Agriculture Sector Survey, the industry “employs over 40 percent of the total population and more than 70 percent of the rural populace”. This is a significant figure that is likely to increase even more if the youth are given the incentive to join forces in the overall agricultural production process.
Missing voices
Nyamweya’s only shortcoming is the exclusion of the voices of ordinary farmers from the entire narrative. As is characteristic of top-down policies, and unlike the bottom-up approach, there is a tendency to speak on behalf of the masses, to pretend to know what is best for them. A majority of the characters in the text speak of the “right” agricultural policies and approaches that need to be adopted to boost yields and food security. However, ironically, they behave like the multinationals that often impose their decisions on farmers without taking their views.
The approach is fraught with its own blind spots, not just because it is condescending to the farmers—those who are directly affected—but also because it poses the risk of aggravating an already bad situation. Talking about revolutions and uprisings is not enough to effectively transform the agricultural sector, even if the calls are to rid it of the cartels and the brokers present along the production chain.
Also, an erudite knowledge of the politics of food and the manipulation by multinationals cannot replace the basic principle that the farmer has to, first and foremost, speak for himself or herself. Does the farmer want to experiment with other seeds? Is the farmer only interested in the large-scale cultivation of staple foods? Is the farmer comfortable with the multinationals? What exactly is in the farmer’s mind? It is not always necessary that all foreign players that intervene in formulating agricultural policies have ulterior motives. One Acre Fund, an organisation founded by a non-Kenyan, has significantly helped smallholder farmers in western Kenya boost their farm output through the use of the right seeds and agricultural techniques and methods. I have seen this first-hand.
The statement is profound because it acknowledges both the complexity and enormity of the task of streamlining food systems and the urgent need to bring diverse groups of people on board.
However, despite the aforementioned shortcomings, Nyamweya’s artistic intervention cannot be downplayed. The issue of food security cannot be left to politicians and policymakers alone. This is not just because food is a basic need, but because a healthy and productive nation has the potential to improve the life expectancy and of children afflicted by malnutrition.
More importantly, a visual narrative approach is a welcome addition to a radical way of acknowledging the enormous capacity of art to surprise and reimagine how to deal with the existential anxieties of our time, such as food insecurity, climate change-induced drought and destruction of biodiversity. It is also a wake-up call to leaders, policymakers and other stakeholders that the conventional way of dealing with the challenges affecting farmers might have to change. Nyamweya’s book is a must-read for everyone who cares deeply about the future of our country and the coming generations.
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The Roots of Toxic Masculinity in South Africa
In South Africa and elsewhere, toxic masculinity is an outcome of modern individualism rather than tradition.

As I stepped into the nightly streets of Cape Town’s most dangerous neighborhoods, I sensed that my journey would be an initiation. The goal of my research project was to document the lasting impact of apartheid racism and gender inequalities on tough and street-smart men. Little did I know that I would make every effort to become invulnerable in my own kind of way, trying to prove my masculinity and academic prowess through ethnographic fieldwork.
Just like many of the men I met in South Africa, I was attempting to shed my vulnerability. However, it never fully worked, even for a privileged European white man like me. Ethnography is an art form rather than a science and it makes researchers vulnerable as they continuously affect and are affected by the research subjects. Moreover, the pressure I put on myself to produce something exceptional to gain respect and impress others took a toll on me.
The paradox of (in)vulnerability made both my research participants and I complicit, although on vastly different terms. For me, attempts to become an invulnerable individual with fixed gender identity led to relationship problems, substance abuse, irritability, and suicidal thoughts. The more I sought invulnerability, the more vulnerable I felt. This (in)vulnerability has received little attention in research, which often disregards the gendering of behavior or turns masculinity into both the cause and solution for a range of social, psychological, and medical problems.
Over the course of more than 10 years of research, I could feel the pulse of (in)vulnerability; the throbbing between disconnection and connectivity, rigidity and disorder, closure and openness. Perhaps this pulse is a fundamental aspect of life for everyone, regardless of social and cultural differences. But the struggle for invulnerability takes on different rhythms based on circumstances. I have been witness to the pain and struggles of the men I interviewed. Some committed suicide, others were murdered, had fatal accidents, or died from infectious disease before they reached their 40s.
Although I stayed in contact with some of these men, I retreated to my safe haven after completing my doctoral research. Writing my dissertation and book was draining, filled with anger and shame over my inability to support the people whose stories I documented, and my own shortcomings. I was not living up to the ideals of a compassionate human rights advocate or a productive academic who could be sharp, unyielding, and daring at all times. But the survivor’s guilt was just another manifestation of me believing that I could be an individual savior.
As I delved deeper into my research, I realized I had fallen into a well-worn pattern—a white European male traveling to Africa to prove his masculinity. It dawned on me, most of the behaviors that are associated with toxic masculinity are an outcome of modern individualism rather than tradition in South Africa and elsewhere. White men imported the gendered ideal of a self-made individual. The trope can be traced back to 17th-century English philosophers who defined the individual as the “owner of himself,”” who owes little to others, with a core identity composed of seamless traits, behaviors, and attitudes, rather than an assemblage of contradictory elements adopted through ongoing exchanges with others.
South African psychologist Kopano Ratele argues that well-meaning critiques of gender ideologies tend to homogenize and retribalize African masculinities as if they had no history. From this perspective, contemporary heteronormativity and male power are not necessarily a matter of “‘tradition”’ as a single and fixed structure. Yet, gender development work in Africa often uses the term “toxic masculinity” interchangeably with “traditional masculinity” particularly among low-income Black men.
During my doctoral research, I found that my own assumptions about the dark ages of patriarchy and their continuing effects on South Africans were based on a teleological model of progress that obscures how modern individualism creates toxic masculinity. My pursuit of invulnerability through ethnographic research was an attempt to “be somebody” in a world in which personhood is seemingly no longer defined by mutuality in relationships. For the most marginalized men I met in Cape Town, this pursuit was by far more distressing, in part, because these men were aware of the fact that they always depended on others for their very survival.
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This post is from a partnership between Africa Is a Country and The Elephant. We will be publishing a series of posts from their site once a week.
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Climate Change Conundrum: Is Africa’s Share of the Burden Equitable?
Current data shows that the share of Africa’s climate burden is far greater than is presently reported or imagined.

The “climate emergency” is without doubt a global concern and, moreover, the science supporting this claim seems reasonably well established.
The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) predicts that global average temperature may increase by 1.5 to 4.5°C (2.7 to 8.1°F) by the end of the 21st century if nothing is done to drastically reduce the trend and stop any irreversible changes to the earth’s climate systems. However, there is an argument to be made that the burden of addressing this crisis may not have been equitably distributed.
Under the Paris Agreement reached at COP21 in 2015, it was agreed by virtually all countries concerned that collective action must be taken to ensure that global temperature does not increase beyond 2°C above pre-industrial levels.
After agreeing to and formally approving the Paris Agreement, nearly all African countries have shown some level of commitment in tackling the crisis. But looking forensically, how much of the global burden of this crisis has Africa borne so far?
Africa’s share of the burden
Statistics seem to suggest that Africa (which harbours nearly a fifth of the global population), has contributed very little to global greenhouse gas emissions and yet it is very vulnerable to the effects of climate change. According to reports, Africa’s share of global greenhouse gas emissions is approximately 3.8 per cent. By comparison China’s share is 23 per cent, while the US accounts for 19 per cent, and the European Union 13 per cent.
Africa is uniquely susceptible to the effects of climate change because of its geographical sensitivity, a reality that has been confirmed by IPCC scientists. A significant number of African nations are located in regions with low elevation or in coastal areas that can be easily affected by climate-related dangers such as rising sea levels, storm surges, and other related hazards.
The continent’s susceptibility to the consequences of climate change can also be attributed to factors such as its natural resources as well as some distinct social and economic circumstances.
The year 2021 was categorised as either the third or fourth hottest year ever recorded in Africa. Studies suggest that the temperature in Africa will increase at a faster rate compared to the global projections for the 21st century.
It is expected that by 2069 or earlier, the near-surface air temperature in Africa will surpass the projections made for the 20th century. These temperature changes are likely to be unprecedented, especially in more susceptible regions such as West, Central, and East Africa. The projections indicate that the rise in temperature could occur 10-20 years before the anticipated time.
Fifty-three African Parties have recently submitted their Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) in line with the requirements of the Paris Agreement. NDC refers to plans at the national level that outline various objectives for reducing greenhouse gas emissions. The NDCs indicate that droughts and floods are the primary types of hazards that African Parties are most concerned about. Yet the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) reports that only four countries have the capability to offer end-to-end drought forecasting or warning services at a fully advanced level.
It is expected that by 2069 or earlier, the near-surface air temperature in Africa will surpass the projections made for the 20th century.
Although NDCs employ a “bottom-up” strategy as per IPCC guidelines for reducing emissions, there are still some gaps in this process, as highlighted in the UNEP 2021 report.
The lack of action or slow progress, by developed nations, in reducing their fair share of emissions raises questions regarding the actual burden of negative climate impacts on African countries.
The WMO’s “State of the Climate in Africa” series of reports seem to be the go-to information resource for the continent as they offer authoritative scientific information concerning climate patterns, severe weather events, and their effects on critical vulnerable sectors.
The current incarnation in the WMO series, the State of the climate in Africa 2021, has drawn attention to the most recent consequences of the changing climate on the continent.
Just like the two previous series (2019 and 2020), the aspects of climate change addressed in the report include an increase in temperature, surging sea levels and coastal erosion, severe occurrences, and food security, health, and economic implications. The complete report is anticipated to be released in early 2023.
Although proof of climate change in Africa is undeniable, recent reports by the IPCC indicate that there are still significant gaps in observing some variables in the region, such as precipitation, and some other fundamental ones described in the WMO’s Global Basic Observing Network (GBON).
There are also reports stating that nearly 60 per cent of the African population is not covered by early warning systems to cope with extreme weather events and climate change impacts. The issue of insufficient coverage is partly attributed to the lack of proper functioning of the National Meteorological and Hydrological Services (NMHSs) in the continent. This seems very ironic because 92 per cent of the countries in Africa mention climate services in their NDCs.
NMHSs are a critical element of national infrastructure and play a significant role in supporting essential socioeconomic functions, including disaster reduction, water resources, agriculture and food security, health, transportation, and energy.
One of the key responsibilities of NMHSs is to carry out regular observations and data collection, which forms the basis for monitoring and forecasting weather, water, climate, and other related environmental conditions. Additionally, NMHSs also help in issuing warnings, alerts, and advice.
Reports suggest that there are several obstacles preventing NMHSs from adequately monitoring and reporting actual crises. These include insufficient human expertise, inadequate observation networks in many countries, poor telecommunication facilities for exchanging data and products, limited mechanisms for engaging with users, inadequate characterization of current and future weather, climate, and water outcomes and impacts, as well as the impact of COVID-19 on national economies.
Therefore, given that the current state of NMHSs in the continent cannot comprehensively account for a global concern like climate change, what credibility can one give to the accuracy of the measurements of actual emissions as required by the Paris Agreement through the African countries’ NDC climate action plan? As the common saying goes, that which cannot be measured is unlikely to be effectively controlled or improved.
On the other hand, research carried out by CDP (formerly the Carbon Disclosure Project) in 2019 indicated that eight out of nine states and regions in Africa had been exposed to socio-economic risks due to the effects of climate change. It was also found that six states and regions had significant concerns about their water security in the near, mid-, or long-term due to the impact of climate change.
However, the data reported by CDP only covered 48 African cities which represents a total population of just a little over 150 million citizens. Moreover, the data invariably only covered approximately 31 per cent of the African population living in urban areas.
It was also found that six states and regions had significant concerns about their water security in the near, mid-, or long-term due to the impact of climate change.
From the foregoing it can be seen that, based on current data, the share of Africa’s climate burden is far greater than is presently reported or imagined. There are certainly several worldwide programmes promoting regional action. However, in order to achieve more sustainable outcomes at every scale, there is still a significant amount of work that is required to enhance disclosure at the sub-national level.
Proposed stopgap measure
Although advances in systematic investigations such as those adopted by the WMO, CDP and other related initiatives have provided important inputs in the climate change efforts in Africa, the risks are more severe than has been envisioned. However, these reports are still very crucial in informing significant actions on the way to achieving the goals of the Africa Agenda 2063.
But perhaps in the interim the limitations of climate monitoring techniques and lack of coverage can be mitigated by greater reliance on indigenous knowledge as well as the involvement of local regions and villages. A recent study has provided evidence of the remarkable value of Indigenous and Local Knowledge (ILK) in Africa.
The term “Indigenous and Local Knowledge (ILK)” refers to the knowledge, philosophies, practices, approaches, and skills developed and accumulated by local communities over time through their informal experimentation, experiences and their deep understanding of local contexts. ILK is mainly transmitted through oral and practiced traditions.
There are approximately 50 million indigenous people in Africa, most of whom are pastoralists, agro-pastoralists, farmers, and hunter-gatherers. The importance of further studying Indigenous and Local Knowledge (ILK) has been emphasised because it has been identified as crucial for adapting to climate change in Africa.
ILK has been utilised on a micro-scale to tackle human-induced, natural, and socio-economic risks, such as, hydro-metrological hazards (floods and droughts), and health issues. Given that modern forecasting systems have limitations, combining different types of forecast services could improve the accuracy of the information provided.
Benefits of tackling the crisis and needs assessment
Although African countries are considered as contributing less to global emissions, it is important to recognize the challenges that they face in addressing climate change. These include political instability, widespread poverty, and inadequate infrastructure, which can make it challenging to effectively implement climate change policies and adaptation measures. Moreover, Africa tends to possess the least developed land-based observation network when compared to other continents.
Given that modern forecasting systems have limitations, combining different types of forecast services could improve the accuracy of the information provided.
Despite the challenges faced by many African countries, some regions are taking steps to adapt to climate change while planning for a more resilient future using alternative means. The message of sustainability is also beginning to filter through to the populations in their daily activities, work and business.
However, there is a need for additional resources to support risk and vulnerability assessments, emissions inventories, adaptation planning, streamlined data collection processes and collaboration. It is possible to achieve significant outcomes through the technological and financial assistance of developed nations. This includes generation of employment opportunities, expansion of access to renewable energy, and enhancement of public healthcare services. To enhance its climate change adaptation measures, Africa requires about US$ 7-15 billion annually by 2030; the negative impacts of climate change could cost Africa approximately US$50 billion annually.
Op-Eds
Unpacking the Disinformation Landscape in Kenya
How the misinformation community came together to collaborate and tackle the false information around the last general election.

In April 2022, I stepped up to lead the collective project, a collaborative journalism project that brought together fact-checkers, journalists, podcasters, digital media influencers, cartoonists, and the tech community to fight false information in Kenya. The year-long project changed the way countries prepare to deal with false information around elections.
The immense opportunity to lead the collective in the fight against election mis-/disinformation in Kenya in 2022 exposed both the players and the layered gaps within our sense-making processes as a country. I did end up in the mis-dis-mal-information space partly as a result of my training as a lawyer, a podcaster (by choice), and a feminist (by necessity), all of which have been crucial tools as we set our eyes on information pollution. I eventually ended up in the information integrity space through the work I was doing with the Mine is a Comment Podcast, a platform that brings minorities together to talk about how social, political and economic decisions affect their lives.
Tackling misinformation was a fortuitous experiment to fight fake news not only around elections but also in the prevalent everyday narratives. For the first time, the misinformation community came together to collaborate and tackle the false information around elections. The community has everyone in it–journalists from independent, mainstream and community media; fact-checkers; content creators like me who were doing amazing podcasts at the time; digital media influencers; cartoonists; journalism students, and even state regulators.
Mal-mis-dis-information issues in Kenya
The desire to bring all on board and address the various strands of misinformation meant we were all coming together with the lessons learned from previous elections about how false information polluted public debate in the 2013 and 2017 elections. We wanted to create public awareness about information pollution, its effect on elections and on our country’s political hygiene, and to teach people how to spot false information, how to debunk it, and how to disrupt the networks that spread these falsehoods. Besides, we needed to be creative about engagement with the media, the public, online storytellers, the government, and social media platforms. Coming together to do these things just made sense. In short, that’s how the collective came about.
We saw Fumbua (the collective) partner with organisations such as Africa Check, Google News Initiative, and the Media Council of Kenya to offer training, including digital literacy training workshops, to the general public. What the collective did was to get the players to offer joint training, not just to media professionals and journalism practitioners, but to anyone interested in fighting false information. We needed to scale that fight, recruit more people to the cause, so that we would have a reasonable number of people pushing back against false information online.
We had targeted to reach 60 people based on our budget, but we received nearly 300 applications. In the end, we retained just over 100, but many of those who applied are still on the waiting list. We hope that when funding allows, we will give them those important digital literacy skills to navigate the information ecosystem, not just during elections, but even right now, in-between elections when false information is still spreading.
The quality of false information during the elections had several waves depending on the phase of the electoral process. With the general election set to take place on 9 August 2022, from April to July, at the height of the campaign period, a lot of the false information centred on the candidates, their qualifications and their track record. The next wave of false information came very close to the elections and seemed to cast doubt on key institutions like the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission and the police, and in a way targeted the credibility of the process. The thing with this kind of dis-information is the lack of public awareness about what government institutions are doing, thus creating an information vacuum that is easily filled with false information, wild theories and dangerously unhinged opinions presented as facts.
When the results were trickling in, the electoral commission did something unprecedented. It released all the result forms from all the polling stations in the country. Anyone with an internet connection, a calculator and the patience to go through the forms, could sit down and tally the results. It is at this point that there was a surge of false information as some people declared the winners, claiming they had done a tally, even while the electoral commission was still doing the maths.
We saw verified accounts spread false information about the leading candidate. It didn’t help that media houses were doing the tallying based on their individual criteria, and so one media house would show one candidate leading, and the next media house would show the other. There was a running joke at the time that people tuned in to the station that showed that their “fifth president” was ahead.
Then, there came the useful but really ineffective advisories that social media platforms Twitter and Facebook put on posts declaring the results—they merely added a disclaimer that the official results hadn’t yet been declared. But that advisory didn’t disrupt the cycle. The falsehoods kept spreading.
We saw verified accounts spread false information about the leading candidate.
As I conclude, I must point out that what stood out for me was the relentless and consistent gender disinformation against women running for office and women with public-facing accounts like activists, political commentators and journalists. They were attacked just because of their political views. Our colleagues at Africa Check wrote about it.
How big tech handles misinformation
The collaboration with social media platforms was made possible by several of our collective members who were working with and researching the role and impact of social media platforms during the elections. These activities raised similar concerns that needed to be addressed collectively.
Meta worked with fact-checkers such as PesaCheck and Africa Check, who were part of the collective, to clean up false information on Facebook. Twitter had a partnership with Africa Check, as did Tiktok which worked with other collective members to deal with false information.
We had a lot more expectations from the platforms with regard to content moderation and taking down content spreading false information. We still need to talk.
Then we had influencers and other content creators put together very engaging content to educate the public about the risks and dangers of false information during elections. These included WOWZI, a digital marketing company and also a member of the collective. We also worked with Esther Kazungu, Njugush, Abel Mutua and Wixx Mangutha. The reason we used influencers was because, as we neared elections, politicians had recruited their army of influencers to spread false information. We had to fight fire with fire, to get influencers who were passionate about facts to help us to spread accurate information and tell the public about the dangers of false information. Our campaign with influencers was important to amplify our message about verifying messages received before sharing them.
Working collaboratively in a space such as this has its own challenges because when you work collaboratively, you have to be clear about expectations and what you bring to the table. When that is not clear, there is the risk of a member feeling underutilised. The election was also a busy period for everyone and so availability was a bit of a challenge which was understandable. There were also challenges in the form of donor funding. Donors are known to fund a lot of electoral work and this could lead to a sense of competition among members of the collective. Collaboration cures this but not with every member given that the collective was young at that point. The way forward is to cultivate trust and really build on a collaborative way to fundraise together.
As we neared elections, politicians had recruited their army of influencers to spread false information.
But to be honest, I don’t really consider these challenges as such, they are opportunities for coming up with better communication with regard to availability, expectations on both ends and how to engage with each other to build a stronger collective for the work ahead. The challenge of false information is not going away soon; we just have to be smarter about how we fight back. We are happy to see that the collaborative model is being adopted in countries where one of our partners, Africa Check, is working in Nigeria which held elections last February.
The future of combating misinformation
There is going to be a lot more training, dialogue and creative ways to tackle the information pollution we are experiencing. We will have media and digital literacy programs, campaigns against gender(ed) disinformation, and we want to also focus on holding our leaders accountable for the promises they made, not just in the counties, but also at the national government level. There’s a lot of work to be done, and I am excited about being part of it.
The challenge of misinformation and disinformation will be around for a long time. As the economy in Kenya goes through its current challenges, more people will get desperate and anxious about the future. That fear will be preyed upon by the merchants of false information, this time in rip-offs, usually phoney investment opportunities, fake property sales, and outright scams.
As the economy in Kenya goes through its current challenges, more people will get desperate and anxious about the future.
People must always remember that not all publicly available information is accurate. They must be very cautious when consuming it. It is also possible for false information to be amplified by trusted and verified sources like the media so don’t beat yourself up when you believe the information. Don’t judge yourself too harshly. Being deceived happens even to the best of our institutions because mis/dis-information is a problem across all sectors. To be safe, just stay alert.
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