In 2015, armed with nothing but passion, borrowed WIFI from a city café that double up into a bar in the evening in the middle of downtown, and a hunch that Twitter might matter someday, we launched Siasa Place, a youth-led civic-tech organization based in Nairobi, Kenya. I say we, a group of young ambitious people who somehow connected on democracy, we met at various functions around the city, and we were drawn to each other by our sense of general knowledge on country and current affairs and this passion to change the way things were. I had just completed my studies abroad, so when I moved back home after being away for 7 years, I was happy to find this new community, one that I connected with intrinsically and immediately. We were patriotic, and we didn’t have money, just a sense of urgency. The civic space was shrinking, the air thick with disillusionment, and young people were hungry for a way to speak, to be heard, to organize. Ten years later, that bet on digital democracy has put us on the frontlines of East Africa’s cyberactivity movement.
Back then, it felt like shouting into the void. We ran a weekly conversation called #SiasaWednesday, where we debated budget allocations, corruption scandals, leadership and youth engagement in governance. We had a specific hour that we would meet virtually and sometimes it felt like we were talking to ourselves. Every week without fail, for up to 3 years, we met at the same time, discussing various issues and mobilizing others to join us. And slowly, people joined. Threads grew longer. Followers multiplied. Can you imagine we would type conversations, sometimes stay on a subject for as long as three hours. This was before spaces, this was when we would have threads of conversations, sometimes you have no idea who was reading or questions would come in halfway, while some questions came in days later after someone coincidentally stumbled on the conversation. So, back then, you would have to type a response. These days, we really take X spaces for granted, where thousands can join live discussions, speaking, listening, from the simple unmuting of a button and challenging power in real time. Or even TikTok live videos, where people can comment in real-time.
The internet hasn’t just become the medium, it is the movement. Hashtags are petitions; influencers are political analysts; memes are protest signs
Today, memes are protest signs, comical but with strong political stances and messaging. A clever and different political language that young people love to interact with. Hashtags are petitions. Influencers are political analysts. The internet didn’t just become the medium; it became the movement. But even as our voices amplified, so did the backlash.
The Double-Edged Sword of Digital Empowerment
Over the past decade, digital platforms have grown into the primary arena for civic engagement across East Africa. From Nairobi to Kampala, Dar es Salaam to Kigali, young people have built powerful communities online, pushing for transparency, accountability, and justice.
Siasa Place exists to strengthen that movement. We develop institutional frameworks, offer civic education, and train the next generation of leaders on how to use tech tools for political engagement. Initiatives like “Politics, Tech, and Rights” address the nuances of digital labor, content moderation, and gender-based violence in online spaces. We also support platforms such as zKE that collect opinions from mainly young people on bills, asking for suggestions or recommendations to bills in a more streamlined and effective way, basically gathering public opinion which is part of our constitution when it comes to public participation. The way feedback is submitted will change greatly, especially as younger generations continue to get accustomed and cultured to utilizing digital platforms.
But the very tools we use for organizing are now being weaponized against us. In Kenya, Parliament has recently been working on passing a controversial social media bill that would grant authorities access to citizens’ devices. Under the guise of regulation, it paves the way for surveillance and repression. In Uganda and Tanzania, entire platforms have been shut down during elections. Ethiopia experienced a full internet blackout in 2023. Digital democracy is not just uneven across the region—it’s under siege.
Digital platforms have grown into the primary arena for civic engagement across East Africa. Young people have built powerful communities online, pushing for transparency, accountability, and justice
What Digital Democracy Looks Like in East Africa
To speak of digital democracy in East Africa is to acknowledge contradiction. Connectivity is uneven. Access is costly. Kenya has high speed internet, connectivity is struggling even though we have a growing reach, it is still difficult to access the internet in very rural areas. When we speak in terms of affordability, data bundles are still costly to the average person. Even owning a smart phone is expensive. What ends up happening is that if a household can afford to get a smart phone device, it often belongs to the male of the household. That also translates to users being male dominated, most online users will be more male than female. Online violence is already high, but tech assisted violence against women is even greater. When you are already a minority online, then the chances of you being harassed online are high – then many reduce their engagement on issues – especially political matters that tend to be quite emotive.
There is also the fact that Kenya is one of the most engaged countries in the world, top 5 actually when it comes to how many hours citizens spend online. However, there is a contradiction: in countries where mainstream media is dominated by politically affiliated owners, the internet often becomes the only unfiltered space for dissent. In fact, we have seen a growth of alternative media, from podcasters to YouTubers. However, even here, we can’t rely solely on the online world.
Digital democracy means creating alternative systems of trust and accountability, because too often institutions fail us
Digital democracy means pairing Facebook live sessions and tweets with town halls. It means understanding that just because something is legal doesn’t mean it’s just. It means creating alternative systems of trust and accountability, because too often institutions fail us. Who would have thought that we would witness impersantion of militaries, such as Iran, for example, who posted that they were attacking Israel as defense on X platform. And in a matter of hours, it had over 100,000 views. It has made mysterious institutions that often are protected by vails of authority almost feel reachable and sometimes more human facing. The law can be bent to serve repression; the internet must not be.
Stories of Resistance and Risk
From Siasa Place we’ve supported campaigns demanding the release of political prisoners in countries like Mozambique. We’ve worked with Africtiviste to highlight repression in Senegal. Locally, we’ve seen how digital tools allow young people to respond fast mobilizing against injustices like police brutality or public graft. We have had conversations with similar organizations like Yiaga in Nigeria, comparing our elections and getting an understanding firsthand on processes, speaking to each other and collaborating and building reports that can be useful for future recommendations.
But we’ve also seen the risks. Government-sponsored trolls spread disinformation to discredit activists. More and more, this technique has become ever so visible and aggressive. Dismissing activists as being commercial and Western-sponsored to bring about anarchy and to destroy the countries that we live in. A contradiction of sorts, because the same western countries or eastern funds most of our government budgets, including essential pillars such as police service, and health. Governments receive the most amount of support figuratively.
Digital tools allow young people to respond fast mobilizing against police brutality or public graft. But we’ve also seen the risks of internet: disinformation, surveillance and intimidation
There has been a global rise in State agencies monitoring phones and infiltrating WhatsApp groups. But this is a great fear for us because it is literally the difference between life and death. People have been abducted and even murdered because of a post that they put. This has become normalized that even abductions no longer seem unlawful. It has become a weekly event and even elected members that serve in Assemblies are being abducted, not just activists, but ordinary citizens who choose to be vocal.
In early June, a brave teacher called Alfred Ojwang had put up a post about corruption in the police sector. He was picked up by the police and driven over 300km from his home (passing several police stations) for questioning. He was taken to the Central Police Station in downtown Nairobi. A few hours later, he died in custody. The police tried to frame it as though he committed suicide in the cell. But due to pressure from the public and the fact that activists refused to leave his side, the autopsy concluded that Alfred was tortured and beaten to death. Alfred was tracked on his device, and this was because of a post that he made that “tarnished” someone’s record. His story haunts us because it reminds us that we are not only fighting narratives; we are fighting for our lives.
Still, what keeps us going is belief. Belief that another Kenya, another East Africa, is possible. One where voices are not silenced but amplified. One where justice is not just spoken about in encrypted chats but practiced.
The Boniface Mwangi and Agather Atuhaire Case: A Flashpoint
In May 2025, human rights activists Boniface Mwangi (Kenya) and Agather Atuhaire (Uganda) travelled to Dar es Salaam (Tanzania) to support opposition leader Tundu Lissu during a court appearance. They were abducted by Tanzanian security officers, blindfolded, stripped, assaulted, and dumped at their respective borders. The brutality was chilling. There was clear cross-border coordination and now we worry that we are not just being tracked in our countries but in our community, in the region.
What came after was equally significant: the digital roar. Activists were forced to come together cross-border and amplify – across East Africa they rallied, flooding timelines with calls for justice. Siasa Place, among others, issued a 72-hour ultimatum to regional bodies, demanding action. Hashtags trended between nations. Partnering with local and international media, which picked up the story. For once, silence was not an option.
Cyberactivism has demonstrated that borders are often insignificant in the face of repression. With a viral video and a coordinated outrage we can make noise, and noise can lead to justice
This case showed both the peril and the power of digital activism. Had there been no Twitter thread, no viral video, no coordinated outrage, perhaps their story would have ended in silence. But we made noise. And noise can lead to justice; we are still on that path to justice.
The Role of Regional Solidarity
Cyberactivism has demonstrated that borders are often insignificant in the face of repression. Whether in Nairobi, Kampala, or Dar es Salaam, the playbook is familiar: surveillance, disinformation, intimidation.
That’s why regional solidarity matters. We don’t just need allies, we need systems. Systems that are constantly adapting because they often find ways to try and shut down platforms or the internet itself. We need protocols and mutual protection mechanisms. When Mwangi and Atuhaire were taken, we didn’t wait for governments to act. Concerned citizens and civil society filled the vacuum.
Building Resilience: The Work of Siasa Place
Siasa Place’s work now spans training, research, and advocacy. We advocate for rights that are already provided for in our constitution. Gig workers deserve contracts, protections, and dignity. We’re mapping out the tech ecosystem to identify where rights are being violated and where interventions are possible. Through TrustLab, we train grassroots organisations on digital security. We teach the use of VPNs, two-factor authentication, phishing awareness, and fact-checking strategies. We help communities build digital hygiene the way past generations built unions or savings groups. We’re also investing in storytelling. Because if we don’t tell our stories, someone else will—and they will distort them.
We work with community-based organizations, mentoring them to institutionalize and also become leaders in their own communities and learning about budget cycles and the importance of social accountability. The constitution grants citizens the right to participate in that process. They need to learn how to hold local leaders accountable especially utilizing already provided spaces and platforms to do so.
A digitally peaceful society is one where activists don’t need burner phones; where laws protect speech and where we can disagree loudly, passionately, safely
We work with young leaders who have an interest in pursuing political leadership. Partnering them with political parties and also encouraging them to be members of parties and play an active role in politics. Our main work is educational awareness, because when these processes become known, young people are often ready to take them up.
What Peace Looks Like in a Digital Age
Peace is no longer just about ceasefires or election cycles. It’s about data protection. It’s about the right to post without fear. It’s about whether your activism gets you a retweet or a jail sentence.
A digitally peaceful society is one where activists don’t need burner phones. Where laws protect speech, not criminalize it. Where we can disagree loudly, passionately, safely, and it’s not just the responsibility of governments… platforms, donors, international allies, they all have a role to play. Because if one voice is silenced online, we all lose something.
This isn’t just a moment. It’s a movement. We are not coding apps; we are coding resistance. Every tweet is a vote. Every view is a vigil. Every WhatsApp message, every livestream, every meme, everything matters.
We know the risks. But we also know our power. As we build digital peace in East Africa, we do so knowing that silence was never an option. The internet didn’t save us. We saved each other. And we’re not done yet.
Photography
Moment of intervention during a gathering organized by Siasa Place. Author: Siasa Place (organization’s Facebook page).