By Edwin Wanjawa and Dommie Yambo-Odotte
For many Kenyans, digital gender-based violence (GBV) is still casually dismissed as “online drama.” But for survivors, it is trauma without borders. It destroys reputations, ruptures families, destabilises mental health, threatens livelihoods, and in far too many cases, spills into physical harm. As Kenya concludes the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence, the national conversation must now move decisively from awareness to accountability.
Over the past two weeks, stories from across the country have laid bare the lived realities of online harassment, cyberstalking, non-consensual sharing of intimate images, digital blackmail, doxxing, and hate campaigns driven by gender, disability, sexual orientation, and political identity. These are not isolated digital misdemeanours; they are crimes with lifelong consequences. The emotional toll—anxiety, depression, shame, fear, and social withdrawal—is often compounded by economic loss and public stigma. Yet despite the depth of this harm, most survivors never find justice.
Kenya’s legal framework does contain vital tools. The Computer Misuse and Cybercrimes Act, the Sexual Offences Act, the Data Protection Act, the Children Act, and related laws offer a foundation for protecting citizens online. But law alone is not protection. Survivors continue to encounter police stations without trained cyber units, investigators unfamiliar with digital evidence, and court processes that are slow, intimidating, and costly. In many cases, victims are met with disbelief or blamed for their own abuse. The result is a dangerous cycle of silence and impunity.
Digital gender-based violence is also evolving at a pace that law struggles to match. Deepfake technology, AI-generated abuse, coordinated online attacks, and algorithm-driven amplification of humiliation have introduced new forms of violation that were unimaginable a decade ago. Without continuous legal reform, Kenya risks fighting tomorrow’s crimes with yesterday’s laws.
Enforcement remains the weakest link in the digital safety chain. While arrests and prosecutions have occurred, they remain the exception, not the rule. Survivors frequently abandon cases out of fear of retaliation, emotional exhaustion, or lack of financial resources to pursue justice. Cybercrime units within law enforcement require not just legal authority, but consistent funding, continuous training, modern forensic capacity, and a trauma-informed approach to survivor care. The justice system must make one principle unmistakably clear: anonymity does not equal immunity.
Beyond government, technology companies play a defining role in the violence ecosystem. Social media platforms shape what is seen, promoted, and monetised. Yet survivors repeatedly report slow response to abuse reports, weak content takedown mechanisms, and inconsistent enforcement of community standards. Harmful material often spreads faster than it is removed, leaving victims trapped in a cycle of perpetual exposure. The business models of digital platforms cannot be allowed to override the right to safety and dignity. Kenya must insist on stronger local accountability, faster takedown timelines, Kenyan-context content moderation, and transparent cooperation between platforms and law enforcement.
What is urgently needed now is a coordinated National Digital Safety Strategy. Digital safety cannot remain fragmented across ministries, agencies, and sectors. It must be treated as a human rights issue, a mental health issue, a child protection issue, an education issue, and a national security issue. A comprehensive strategy must prioritise digital literacy from early childhood, nationwide public awareness on online consent and responsible digital behaviour, survivor-centred reporting mechanisms, accessible psychosocial support services, and continuous research to guide policy.
Counties play a critical frontline role in this ecosystem. They are often the first point of contact for survivors through health facilities, social protection offices, and community-based networks. County governments must invest in digital GBV response capacity, strengthen referral pathways, and integrate online violence into existing GBV frameworks. Without local action, national commitments risk remaining abstract promises.
Civil Society Organisations (CSOs) continue to carry a heavy burden—providing legal aid, shelter, counselling, advocacy, research, and community education where state capacity is thin. Their work must not only be recognised, but sustained through funding, partnerships, and meaningful inclusion in policy development. The media, too, holds enormous power. Ethical reporting can protect survivors and promote accountability; sensationalism often re-traumatise victims and normalise abuse. Responsible journalism is not optional in the digital safety conversation—it is essential.
Schools and learning institutions are another critical prevention pillars. Digital citizenship, online ethics, consent education, and gender equality must be embedded into learning environments long before young people encounter the full force of digital platforms. Prevention begins with values, not algorithms.
For Development Through Media (DTM), this 16-day campaign has presented it with a great opportunity to reaffirm its unwavering commitment to evidence-driven, survivor-centred digital and offline GBV prevention. We believe that storytelling must be grounded in research and lived experience. That media must heal rather than harm. That technology must protect rather than persecute. And that survivors must remain at the centre of every policy, platform, and institutional response.
The future of digital safety in Kenya will not be determined by technology alone. It will be shaped by political will, institutional courage, community vigilance, and public demand for justice. Every ignored report, every delayed investigation, every platform that fails to act swiftly, becomes another wound in the social fabric.
Kenya now stands at a defining crossroads: to normalise digital violence as the unavoidable cost of connectivity, or to reclaim the digital space as one of dignity, safety, freedom, and accountability. The choice is not technical—it is moral.
As the 16 Days of Activism draw to a close, one message must echo beyond campaigns and hashtags: Digital gender-based violence is not online drama. It is violence. And violence demands justice.
Edwin Wanjawa is the Programmes Associate, DTM and Dommie Yambo-
Odotte is the Executive Director and Producer, DTM
