The global threat of Russia's Alabuga recruitment in Africa

By: Charles Mafa, Samuel Baker Byansi, Elizabeth BanyiTabi, Eric Mugendi, William Moige, Josephine Chinele, Emmanuel Mutaizibwa, Beloved John and Evelyn Groenink

International reports have addressed Russia’s recruitment of young African women for its Alabuga military-industrial zone, 1,000 km east of Moscow, as a ‘trap,’ based on false information and fake promises. Our recent investigation confirmed that much of the content in campaigns that reached tens of thousands in our countries was indeed false. Alabuga is not a school, but a tough working environment; it is not full of love and happiness, but military-style, tightly controlled and disciplined, with limited freedom of movement. Salaries are subject to deductions, and savings are difficult, if not impossible, to transfer back home. It is also not just about study and work, but about supporting Russia’s war industry; the site includes an Iranian Shahed-136 attack drone factory.

We also interviewed young men in the recruitment channel. Their destiny was even darker: they are either recruited directly into the army or funnelled from the factory floor straight to Ukraine’s battlefields.

The Russian system appears designed that way. Recruitment networks in African countries systematically target both young men and women, using the same legitimate-looking websites and cultural centres, channelling women to ‘new families’ in the Russian military environment and men toward a military endpoint that recruiters deliberately obscure.

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But false information and fake promises were not all there was to the recruitment phenomenon. Among our interviewees, several said they would rethink their plans after being informed of the true nature of the place they had thought of travelling to. But—and this is our main takeaway—there were even more who insisted they would still go. “This is my only escape” and “Better to be exploited in a developed country than where I am now” are just some of the many, many comments we encountered from passionate young women and men, who either held on to the false information they had been given, desperately hoping the warnings were only ‘Western propaganda’, or who went in with their eyes open, intent on making something of themselves elsewhere, no matter where or what. As one Burundian recruit explained: “When your family is struggling to eat, and someone offers you $800 a month plus free housing, you don’t ask many questions.”

Trapped already

To understand this, especially for Westerners, it is important to take into account that Africa’s youth are already trapped: in badly governed countries where only a politically connected few live the good life. Avenues open to the non-privileged are often limited to eking out a living in the informal economy. Vast numbers of non-connected university graduates sit at home, frantically trying to work online—sometimes doing academic assignments for peers in the West, sometimes turning to gambling. The Alabuga recruitment is only the most recent manifestation of this unemployment crisis among youth, who form the largest population demographic and are therefore eager to embrace any opportunities, real or perceived, outside the country.

Fifteen years ago, we at ZAM published interviews with young African women who were trafficked by sex work gangs from Nigeria to brothels in the West. Even then, we found that many of the ‘girls’ being groomed for sex work were fully aware of what they were getting into. Even then, we were told: But how else do I get out of this country? Today, in Nigeria, there is a word for that burning desire to leave: japa, escape.

Of course, it is preferable to leave legally, for study, work, or even just a holiday, to a place where you want to go. But with the West locked down, and most youth lacking the money to pay their way into the world, only one route remains: recruitment by foreign powers. To get out, one depends on prefabricated channels with vague purposes or even clear risks. After sex work from Nigeria, we found that youth were channelled into domestic work, where they were often abused in the Gulf States. Now, it is Russia.

Governments complicit

We found that insult was added to injury by the African governments’ own attitude toward this phenomenon, most starkly in the context of the Alabuga recruitment scheme. Authorities in all seven countries appeared to have embraced this scheme without scrutinising any risks or dangers. No African government has issued warnings about Alabuga’s military-adjacent nature. Nigeria is seemingly incapable of removing an Alabuga brochure from its government portal. A Kenyan ambassador has publicly praised the Alabuga programme as “impressive.” Uganda’s ambassador to Russia announced Alabuga scholarships and visited the compound. An MP is helping to facilitate Alabuga passports and says, “We are OK with them [the Russians] taking the girls.” A Cameroonian politically connected businessman, while facilitating his country’s young women’s travel to Alabuga, talks of “financial empowerment of the girl child” and brags on social media that his Russian recruitment route is “the solution to Africa’s problem of illegal migration.” And as he insists that all criticism against Alabuga recruitment is “propaganda” and that “these girls are fine there,” he continues to deny our team’s request to speak to at least one of them ourselves.

The rupture of families and communities is an unavoidable side-effect that the same governments also don’t seem to be concerned about. In Burundi, a mother, with a breaking voice, tells us, “It’s like our children don’t matter.” In Cameroon, families flock to an anonymous Facebook page to find rumours about their loved ones amid silence from their government. In Zimbabwe, a mother whose daughter’s trip to Alabuga was helped along by a “senior government employee” said that speaking openly about her concern for her daughter would lead to government reprisals: “They’ll say I am feeding the media.” The family of Libère Hatungimana was told by Burundi’s embassy in Moscow that he “might have died,” but received no official confirmation or assistance.

The deal—selling out the youth—to Russia, a new “partner” increasingly embraced by political elite authorities in African countries, therefore appears more important than checking on the well-being of these recruits and their families. A senior education official in Rwanda’s government told us, on condition of anonymity, that she was worried about students leaving for “vague” destinies, but added: “The orders to work with these people (Russia) are always coming from above.”

Foreign exchange

Besides the context of working with Russia—see more on that below—we found that African governments in the seven countries have generally normalised sending their youth through foreign recruitment channels as if leading cattle. Instead of designing a future for young people in their own countries, or at least working diligently to upset unfair visa regimes and create real foreign opportunities for the talented and energetic, instead of using such foreign opportunities to grow a reservoir of skilled people to help build Africa and the world, they appear focused simply on getting them out.

The Kenyan government has subsidised a private recruitment agency taking youth to unclear destinations in Russia; the minister involved poses proudly for cameras with his soon-to-be migrant workers, but refuses to answer questions. In Malawi, a minister openly talks of the ‘marketability’ of youth as a way to get foreign exchange (“and that money will not even be put to good use to build our country, but will be stolen again,” as one team member put it). The same minister scolds youth working abroad for bad behaviour and abandoning their posts, instead of expressing concern about reports of abuse and unkept promises in the labour arrangement.

Questions we posed about the Alabuga recruitment scheme, or about recruitment agencies’ work in general, were not answered by any ministry or embassy, anywhere.

Generation Z

The question of why African governments seemingly want to ‘market’ their own youth away seems simple to answer: there are so many young people on the continent, with over two-thirds of the population under 35. And the dwindling, badly managed economies certainly cannot provide jobs for all. But there is another factor, too: in Kenya, Uganda, Nigeria, and elsewhere, young people have been at the forefront of demands for change. Generation Z is aware, often educated; it sees the rot in postcolonial governing structures and has ideas on how to change it. It is itching to play a role, come to the fore, come into its own, and lead countries toward real development.

Most of the ageing autocratic—and often kleptocratic—leaders on the continent appear unwilling to listen. Kenya, Uganda, and Nigeria have been violently confronting, even shooting, their protesting Generation Z in the streets, and have been globally criticised for it. Could it be that simply pointing them towards greener pastures elsewhere is seen as a more elegant way for them to get rid of the problem?

Russia’s deal

The Russian recruitment scheme presents such oppressive leaders with a deal that, for them, is very good indeed. Not only does it release some steam from the kettle that is the trapped and frustrated young citizenry in their countries, but it also comes with real support for their own oppressive apparatus. Russia, part of the BRICS multipolar configuration, is developing ever closer ties with dictatorial regimes in this respect, offering weapons, drones, surveillance technology, and aerial power unconditionally. “The case is simply that Western countries have outlived their opportunities for Africans,” as the above-mentioned Cameroonian recruiter, closely connected to the autocratic regime in his country, put it, positioning Russia as “taking the lead.” Russia, for its part, banks on Africa’s tin-pot despots, offering itself as their new, more loyal, stronger partner, with rich prospects of resources, both human and material, and a whole continent to become the main player in, in return.

Meanwhile, the West weakens, with the United States under Donald Trump also turning into a tyrannical state, beginning to resemble Russia or the African governments mentioned earlier. Europe’s feebly and intermittently issued statements on human rights and a free press risk becoming increasingly inconsequential.

Democrats, both in Africa and elsewhere, should therefore be very alarmed at what is happening to Africa’s youth. Its recruitment by this new alliance of oppressors, local and abroad—both using their economic vulnerability for their own purposes—intersects with their political marginalisation and weakens them as the main force ready to fight these developments.

Regional institutions

The problem should be laid urgently at the doorstep of continental and regional bodies like the Southern African Development Community, the Economic Community of West African States, the East African Community, and certainly the African Union (AU). All of these have so far been quiet on youth emigration, but have a critical role to play in reversing this trend. It would be good if they first and foremost acknowledged their failure to date to protect Africa’s citizens from predatory recruitment. But even if they hesitate to do that, they should at least now begin establishing monitoring systems for their nationals abroad and hold governments accountable for promoting dangerous programmes.

Equally importantly, they must finally start to address the economic desperation that makes these schemes seem attractive and seek genuine solutions for youth, whether abroad or at home. There is much that African regional authorities could do to ensure that the continent’s natural wealth is managed transparently and fairly, so that its benefits reach communities rather than being concentrated in the hands of a few. They could champion stronger youth empowerment initiatives—investing in education, skills training, entrepreneurship, and innovation. They also have the power to create safer, more regulated pathways for youth to move across African borders in search of work and study, ensuring that mobility within the continent becomes a real alternative to risky ventures beyond it.

They could furthermore amplify the voices of young people themselves, giving them a seat at the table where decisions about their future are made. By making youth active participants in policymaking, they can help build a continent where young people no longer feel the need to ‘escape’—as opposed to simply travel—in order to live with dignity. If African governments, together with the AU and regional bodies, would act decisively, the story of Africa’s youth could shift—from one of flight and loss to one of opportunity, fairness, and hope on the continent itself. Without such concrete steps, the only ‘japa’ route for young Africans will remain their use as pawns by Russia or any other foreign powers.

As journalists standing for accountability and justice, and as members of the affected citizenries and societies, we request that our governments and these regional and continental bodies prioritise such action. We will interrogate all these institutions on these issues should they continue to fail.

Solidarity

Besides, within Africa, the message for the international community—especially in the West—is becoming increasingly clear. Firstly, Russia’s recruitment represents a clear form of human trafficking that violates international law. Each day of inaction means more African families lose their children, and more communities are left crippled and traumatised. Secondly, the current situation means that the West’s enemy, Russia, will continue to build up its war machine using African youth.

The West, therefore, needs to act—but it cannot limit itself to passionate warnings to young Africans that “this is a trap.” Waving red flags about the dangers “out there” has repeatedly proven to have little or no effect on an exasperated youth, eager to escape at any cost.

Rather, solidarity with Africa’s Generation Z and its push for democracy and good governance on the continent seems essential if Africa is to be saved from a destiny as newly colonised pawns, with its leaders firmly in the Russian embrace, its people corralled, its communities fragmented and muzzled. If not for these reasons, the West might, at the very least, still want to have a fighting chance for trade relations with a continent so rich in vital resources, while, to the east, facing an army increasingly populated by the same African youth it so desperately tries to keep from its own shores.

Geopolitics aside: the voices of the disappeared, the sons and daughters whose families wait by silent phones, demand more than sympathy. They demand action to ensure no more young Africans trade their dreams for a place in someone else’s war.