Why Kenya Cannot Turn Its Back on ITGNC Refugees
According to the UNHCR, the refugee and asylum-seeker population in Kenya stood at 857,065 persons as of 30 June 2026, which comprises 630,946 (74%) refugees and 226,119 (26%) asylum-seekers. Compared with May 2026, there was an increase of 4,677 Individuals in the total population, from 852,388 to 857,065 mainly because of registration of new births and new arrivals from South Sudan, Burundi, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Somalia and Ethiopia. As of 30 June 2026, Dadaab population stood at 420,058 Individuals. Under Kakuma the registered population stood at 318,825 with 231,444 in Kakuma Camp 84,910 in Kalobeyei settlement and 2,471 in Eldoret. Under Nairobi, the registered population stood at 118,182 covering Nairobi, Mombasa, and Nakuru town areas. Burundians account for 4.1% of the total population.
Kenya also remains the only country in the region that grants asylum to people fleeing persecution based on their sexual orientation or gender identity. It means that for intersex, transgender, and gender non-conforming (ITGNC) people across East and Central Africa, Kenya isn't just one of the options among several. For many, it is the only option. To understand what's at stake, it helps to understand what people are fleeing from. Across the region Kenya sits in, being or perceived to be a sexual or gender minority can mean prison, violence, or death:
Uganda passed the Anti-Homosexuality Act in 2023, one of the most severe anti-LGBTQ laws in the world, criminalizing not just same-sex conduct but simply identifying as LGBTQ, with penalties up to life imprisonment and the death penalty for what the law terms "aggravated homosexuality."
Tanzania, South Sudan, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Burundi, and the Democratic Republic of Congo all criminalize same-sex relations in law, in practice, or both, part of a pattern across more than 30 of Africa's 54 countries.
Rwanda does not formally criminalize same-sex relations, but LGBTQ+ people there still face significant social stigma, family rejection, and violence with little institutional protection.
People don't leave these countries lightly. They leave because a neighbor reported them, because a family member threatened them, because police used their identity as an excuse for extortion or assault, because staying meant a cell or worse, a grave. By the time someone reaches Kenya's border, they have usually already lost almost everything once. Kenya's willingness to register asylum claims based on sexual orientation and gender identity is genuinely significant. In a region this hostile, Kenya has been since the early 1990s, a safe haven.
But Kenya's own record is far from simple. Kenya still criminalizes same-sex conduct under its own penal code. LGBTIQ+ refugees at Kakuma refugee camp have documented years of harassment, physical and sexual violence, and impunity for perpetrators, findings substantiated by Amnesty International and Kenyan rights organizations through direct interviews with dozens of asylum seekers. Many queer and gender-diverse refugees have had to be relocated out of the camps into informal, under-resourced safe houses in Nairobi simply to survive day to day. But even in the urban center, refugees and asylum seekers now fear for their safety. Some are in hiding, never leaving their homes for fear of persecution. This is why the recent Xenophobic rhetoric should concern everyone.
“The rising tide of xenophobia in Kenya has created an acute security crisis for LGBTQ+ refugees at RISO, who face intersecting prejudice as both foreigners and queer individuals. New arrivals are trapped in a dangerous dilemma. Either they remain inside without food and basic care, or venture outside the shelter where double discrimination puts their physical safety and lives at constant risk,” notes Kabonge Danniel, Executive Director of the Refugee Independent Support Organisation (RISO).
Turning on refugees, including ITGNC refugees seeking nothing more than the chance to live, is not a minor policy dispute. It is a direct contradiction of the values Africa has spent generations fighting to build. Values of human rights, Pan Africanism, and decolonization. Such hostility undermines collective efforts we have made as a country for equality, justice, and unity across the continent. As Dhalie Bulyaba, Executive Director of The Foundation for Lesbian, Bisexual, Queer, and Gender Non-Conforming Refugees (FLBQR), these experiences do not, on their own, establish discriminatory policy, but they raise serious questions about consistency, access, and transparency in the asylum process, and about the protection of asylum seekers and migrants, particularly the directive affecting foreign-owned small businesses.
“This enforcement directly undermines the core objective of the Shirika Plan. By threatening the livelihoods of urban refugees, these measures create policy contradictions and heightened vulnerabilities as Kenya approaches the 2027 elections. There needs to be urgent clarification on policy interpretation which is essential to safeguard both human rights and the success of the integration framework,” they say.
Kenya's Refugees Act 2021 shifted refugee management from UNHCR to the government and expanded documentation and rights. Building on it, the 2025 Shirika Plan aims to convert the Dadaab and Kakuma camps into integrated municipalities, giving refugees access to ID-linked services, banking, business permits, and freedom of movement , and a shift from humanitarian aid to self-reliance.The plan is built on non-discrimination and equity, but implementation remains vague and delayed. For ITGNC refugees, that ambiguity enables violations to continue. Freedom of movement means little if the towns that refugees move into are no safer than the camp.
For more than 10 years, Jinsiangu has partnered with other refugee-led organisations to provide transitional housing and safe spaces through referrals, ITGNC-affirming counselling and psychosocial support, and HIV prevention and healthcare access programmes. We have worked with police, county governments, schools and hospitals whose decisions determine whether gender-diverse people, citizens, refugees and asylum seekers alike, can access care without added harm. That commitment to safety also extends to supporting refugee-led organisations through fiscal hosting, helping create the practical infrastructure they need to sustain their work. We operate on the same principle we're asking the country to extend to migrants and refugees. Dignity and protection shouldn't be conditional on documentation, nationality, or how legible you are to the systems around you. In a moment like this one, that kind of community-built, trust-based infrastructure isn't a supplement to state protection, for a lot of people right now, it's the only protection there is.
We stand against xenophobia and discrimination in every form it takes, whether against migrants scapegoated for economic hardship, or against ITGNC refugees who came to Kenya because their own countries made their lives untenable. We reaffirm that every refugee's dignity deserves protection regardless of gender identity, sexual orientation, or country of origin. We are asking for concrete action including:
Community education that replaces fear and misinformation about refugees and ITGNC people with accurate understanding of who they are, emphasizing protection, and dignity.
Policy advocacy that holds Kenya accountable to both its Refugee Act commitments and its own constitutional promises of dignity, for citizens and refugees alike.
Inclusive public narratives that center the humanity of ITGNC refugees instead of their vulnerability alone. They are human beings first before anything else.
Direct support for the organizations already doing this work, including Jinsiangu and others operating the safe houses, the counseling lines, and the advocacy that state systems haven't yet caught up to.
Xenophobia thrives on the idea that solidarity is a limited resource, that protecting "us" requires excluding "them." We reject that premise entirely. Turning refugees into scapegoats for domestic economic anxiety recreates exactly the logic those movements were built to reject, that belonging is conditional, that some people's presence has to be justified while others' is assumed, that safety is a resource to be hoarded rather than a right to be extended. When that hostility lands on ITGNC refugees specifically, people already displaced twice over, first by their identity and now by their nationality, it compounds harm.
Enforcement of immigration law is not a licence for vigilante violence, and public officials must not blur that line or legitimise what follows. We call for lawful, dignified processes, with registration and documentation requirements enforced through the appropriate institutions. As Kenyans, we also have a responsibility to name the pattern when we see it. Scapegoating loses its power when we recognise it for what it is: the same story, told again, with different people cast as the threat. We must refuse to let such divisive narratives fester. As a country that has welcomed people fleeing conflict and persecution for decades, Kenya must uphold these principles at home as firmly as we advocate for them abroad.
