Russia unmoved by grieving Kenyan families

When Prime Cabinet Secretary Musalia Mudavadi walked into the marbled interiors of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Moscow alongside his Russian counterpart Sergey Lavrov on Monday, there was palpable anxiety in the room.

But even more poignant, hundreds and even thousands of families back home were eagerly waiting to hear about the fate of their sons — some still actively involved in the war, some missing, and others dead.

Mudavadi’s mission was clear: to secure the repatriation and possible compensation of Kenyans believed to be fighting on the frontlines of the Russia–Ukraine war.

He was flanked by a delegation from the National Assembly Departmental Committee on Defence, including its chair, Nelson Koech, in what appeared to signal the gravity Nairobi attached to the mission.

And it was worth it. To date, some families have only been left with pictures of their dead or missing kin. Some, in desperation after waiting for answers from the government for months, have been forced to conduct mock burials for their relatives for some semblance of closure.

When he spoke, Mudavadi struck a victorious tone. “Kenyans will no longer be eligible for enlisting in the Special Military Operation through the Department of Defence,” he said after an hour-long closed-door talk with Russian officials.

But grieving families back home were thrown in a quandary. The resolution was more futuristic, ignoring the cry of the families protesting against injustices on their sons, dead or alive.

For Russia’s Foreign Minister, right off the bat, his body language spoke a lot. Throughout the press conference, he remained measured, deliberate, and notably unyielding on the more difficult questions.

Lavrov’s remarks dwelt at length on the architecture of Kenya–Russia cooperation from energy, agriculture, education, and counterterrorism, while giving litle time to what had brought Mudavadi.

“All the Kenyans, as well as the citizens from many other countries that sign contracts to take part in the Special Military Operation, did so voluntarily. And under these contracts, as soon as they expire, they don’t need to be repatriated, they just become individuals without a contract; they can do whatever they want,” he stated, adding: “In addition to that, under this contract, a Kenyan national or a national from any other country can terminate this contract and stop their participation.”

In diplomatic circles, they say what is not said often speaks louder than what is. Lavrov offered little in the way of reassurance, not even an implicit acknowledgement of the human cost borne by Kenyan fighters.

He carefully sidestepped critical questions asked by journalists, including whether there was an existing presidential decree to recruit from the Global South, and why there was an opaque recruitment involving private contracts, informal agents, and questionable inducements.

Confessions from some of the recruits who managed to escape the snares of death in the war have shown that some young men travelled on student and work visas, only to find themselves drawn into military service. Others were reportedly made to sign documents in a language they did not fully understand.

Lavrov maintained that there can be no repatriation for a mission that has already been halted going forward, this even as Mudavadi committed to provide consular assistance to Kenyans seeking to go back home.

Asked if victims would be compensated, Lavrov’s response was equally restrained, maintaining that each case would depend on the terms of individual contracts signed.

The Kenyan delegation also raised the cases of two nationals, Evans Kibet and Willis Macharia Muniu, identified as prisoners of war in Ukraine, pushing for their release and eventual return home.

Beyond the battlefield, mounting questions are also emerging about the fate of young Africans, including Kenyans, allegedly working inside Russia’s controversial drone production facilities at the Alabuga Special Economic Zone in Tatarstan.

Investigations by international media and some human-rights groups claim that hundreds of young women from Africa were recruited through a programme known as Alabuga Start, which promised training, jobs, and travel opportunities but allegedly placed them on assembly lines producing military drones used in the war in Ukraine.

When asked about the issue, Lavrov simply answered, “Russia does not recruit; Russia gets requests from volunteers.”

For families who have already lost contact, or worse, received news of death, this was perhaps the most difficult takeaway. The hope that this trip would unlock a structured path to a search for their missing kin, compensation or state support now appears uncertain, if not remote.

And it is not just Kenya; other countries in the continent like Ghana, have also raised concerns over their nationals drawn into the conflict that now exposes a serious diplomatic dilemma for African states.