Connect with us

Special reports

Online African sex workers face abuse and blackmail

Published

on

BY NITA BHALLA AND FARAI SHAWN MATIASHE

NAIROBI/MUTARE – Kenyan sex worker Elizabeth Otieno shudders each time her cellphone buzzes with a new notification.

Advertisement

The device may have become a lifeline in helping her move her work online during the Covid-19 pandemic, but after a client secretly recorded their virtual sex session and leaked it onto the internet, every phone alert sends Otieno into a cold sweat.

“I don’t even know how many social media sites and chat groups the video was shared on. Even eight months after it happened, I still get people forwarding it to me,” said the 45-year-old mother of two who lives in Nairobi.

“I feel ashamed and anxious all the time. My partner left me and even my family won’t talk to me. I thought it was a safe and private way to make money, but virtual sex ruined my life,” said Otieno, whose name has been changed to protect her identity.

Advertisement

Across Africa, sex worker groups say there has been a surge in complaints from members who have become victims of non-consensual pornography, where sexually graphic material is posted online by their clients without their agreement.

From Kenya and Uganda to Zimbabwe and Nigeria, pandemic restrictions such as lockdowns and curfews have seen sex workers shift from bars, brothels and massage parlours to websites, apps and video calls.

But using digital technology to offer their services comes with a barrage of online dangers, leaving sex workers vulnerable to blackmail and sextortion, says Grace Kamau, co-ordinator for the African Sex Workers Alliance (ASWA).

Advertisement

“Sex workers in Africa have learnt how to keep themselves safe with clients in the real world. They know about precautions to take, like to inform peers of their movements and to check in at regular times,” said Kamau.

“But in the virtual world, most have no idea. It is a relatively new space for them. They don’t understand the risks and how to be safe and there is no information available to sex workers about digital security and data protection.”

She said ASWA — a Nairobi-based network of more than 130 sex worker-led organisations in 34 African countries — found that most sex workers did not report cases to the police for fear of being shamed and victim-blamed.

Advertisement

The digital abuse has led to many sex workers being shunned and isolated by friends and family, with many feeling traumatised, depressed and suicidal, Kamau added.

Even before Covid-19, more than half of girls and young women had experienced online abuse, according to a global poll in 2020 by the Web Foundation.

Sharing images, videos or private information without consent — known as doxxing — was the most concerning issue, according to the February survey of more than 8,000 respondents.

Advertisement

Privacy groups and women’s rights advocates say the pandemic has only increased the threat.

Image-based sexual abuse, which includes so-called revenge porn, has skyrocketed globally, with a survey by cybersecurity firm Kaspersky showing a 20% rise in people sharing nudes and explicit material since the beginning of the pandemic.

Nearly a quarter of respondents said they shared their content with someone they have never met in person.

Advertisement

Some African countries have put in place laws criminalising digital abuse and protecting data privacy, but there is a lack of awareness among most women — especially those from marginalised groups such as sex workers, say digital rights campaigners.

“Members of the general society are not well-versed on what the laws and regulations are, what it means to them and how they can use those laws to their benefit,” said Juliet Nanfuka, researcher at CIPESA, an organisation promoting digital rights.

“For sex workers, it is even worse. Due to this lack of information, they will readily share their images and videos with clients — which are then shared across platforms like Facebook and TikTok, without their consent,” she said.

Advertisement

Even if they are aware of their digital rights, sex workers are often reluctant to report crimes against them to the police as they fear they will not be taken seriously, said Nanfuka.

Lillian Gitau, a Kenyan sex worker, said she was blackmailed by a client she met on the dating app Tinder, who secretly filmed her and posted the video in chat groups on Telegram and WhatsApp.

“He wanted 3,000 shillings from me to remove the posts. I gave him the money and he deleted the video, but I know it’s still out there and is being shared,” said Gitau, 30, whose name has been changed to protect her identity.

Advertisement

“The police is not an option. They won’t help women like us. Instead, they just blame us and say it is our fault for doing this work.”

Kenyan police officials were not immediately available for comment.

Faceless time

Advertisement

Sex workers said they have resorted to hiding their faces during video calls or when sending images to new customers. “Most of the nude videos and pictures (I sell) do not show my face,” said Mandy Kusasa, as she scrolled through one of her two smartphones at her home in Zimbabwe’s eastern city of Mutare.

“Nude videos and pictures that reveal my face, however, fetch higher prices so I sell those to some of my regular clients,” added Kusasa, whose name has been changed to protect her identity.

Sex worker organisations say their members need online safety training as well as legal support, but add that they lack the funding to provide that training.

Advertisement

“This is a new phenomenon for sex workers in Zimbabwe,” said Hazel Zemura, director of All Women Advocacy, a Zimbabwean organisation that offers health services to sex workers.

“Some women do not know about safety precautions like two-step verification, applications to secure nudes, or the use of a virtual private network to hide their IP address.”

Nanfuka at CIPESA added that sex workers and the police also need to be educated on how to remove pictures and videos that have been posted online without permission.

Advertisement

“Not many people are aware of how to report, so these images remain online to the detriment of the victims when technically they could be taken down,” she said.

“Sometimes they are taken down, but that’s not always the case. Even when they are taken down, they have already journeyed far and wide and the damage to the individual has been done.” – Thomson Reuters Foundation

Advertisement
Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Slider

From discarded glass to second chances: How conservation is rebuilding the lives of Zambia’s street boys

Published

on

 

BY NOKUTHABA DLAMINI

Livingstone, Zambia — In Maloni township, the sound of glass snapping cleanly against a cutter echoes through the yard of a modest home. What was once a discarded beer bottle now sits neatly trimmed, smoothed into a drinking glass. For a group of young men long dismissed as “junkies,” this simple act has become the beginning of a second chance.

At the centre of this transformation is Songiso Mukena, a conservationist, tourism practitioner and founder of the Responsible Earth Keepers Foundation (REK). Through conservation work, recycling, football and mentorship, Mukena is quietly rewriting the futures of boys once written off by their own communities.

 

“My name is Songiso Mukena from Livingstone, Zambia,” he says. “I am the founder of Responsible Earth Keepers Foundation – a non-profit making organisation.”

A journey rooted in hospitality and conservation

Mukena’s passion for conservation grew out of more than 15 years working in Zambia’s hospitality industry. While employed at Jolly Boys Backpackers in Livingstone, he was involved in a programme focused on responsible tourism and waste management.

“For me, it was just work,” he explains. “It was all about waste separation, finding a better place where to take or whom to give. We were doing worm farming and also just learning how to manage waste.”

That experience sparked a deeper interest. “I think it’s one of the places I worked that really opened my mind,” he says.

In 2016, a visit to a recycling organisation became a defining moment.

“I was amazed with what I saw,” Mukena recalls. “They were giving life back to bottles that were discarded out there or thrown out. They would cut them, make candle holders, lanterns and drinking glasses.”

Although he wasn’t taught the technique, the idea stayed with him. “I started doing research on how to cut a bottle and make a drinking glass,” he says. “It wasn’t easy.”

A breakthrough came when former employers, Mr and Mrs Sikaneta of Munga Eco-Lodge, donated a glass cutter.

“I started practicing and practicing,” Mukena says. “The whole of 2017 I was practicing. In 2018, I started taking bottles to my house and cutting them.”

Soon, people began buying the glasses.

“For me, my mind shifted,” he says. “I thought, I think this can be a big idea on recycling.”

COVID-19 and a move into the community

The COVID-19 pandemic forced Mukena out of employment as tourism ground to a halt. He moved from Linda township to his own plot in Maloni, an area facing deep social challenges.

“It’s a remote area,” he explains. “It’s one of the places where you find early pregnancies, boys failing exams and turning into what today are called junkies.”

Many of these boys had gone through traditional initiation ceremonies, after which they were often stigmatised.

“When they come back, the community views them in a different way,” Mukena says. “Once you go there and come back, you are not taken as a normal boy child.”

Instead of distancing himself, Mukena opened his space to them.

“I started teaching those boys how to cut bottles, making drinking glasses,” he says. “We started with about ten boys.”

The glasses were sold, and the money shared according to need.

“If one lacked shoes, we would sponsor that,” Mukena explains. “If another boy wanted to go back to school and lacked books, we helped.”

Healing beyond skills

The transformation was not just physical or financial. Mukena’s wife, Yvonne, a psychosocial counsellor, joined the initiative.

“She started talking to the boys,” he says. “Trying to get their minds shifted.”

Their home became a safe space.

“Our home became a home of many,” Mukena says. “Some kids would come just to play.”

Recycling soon funded broader social causes.

“We said, how about we sell these glasses back into the charity to help make it self-sustainable? Mukena explains. “Waste management became a starting point for other projects.”

Football as a tool for dignity

Football emerged naturally from the boys themselves.

“They were already playing – and with real talent,” Mukena says. “One day they came and said, ‘Father, we want to play City Stars and we’ll win!”’ City Stars is a professional team.

Recognising their talent and passion, the boys asked for support.

“They said, if possible, can you organise football kits for us?” he recalls.

A local church donated land for a pitch, and REK FC was formed. Recycling income helped support the charity’s activities, linking conservation directly to sport.

Football also brought structure, discipline and confidence.

“We don’t just concentrate on soccer,” he says. “We also give motivational talks, encouragements, testimonies and Bible readings. At the end of the day, it’s a mind change that we are looking for.”

Support from abroad, built on trust and friendship

Among those drawn to support Mukena’s work were two tourists from the UK, Simon Greene and Audrey Furnell. Simon explains why grassroots initiatives resonate with donors today:

“In return for a relatively modest donation anyone can make a tangible difference. Supporters like us can see a direct return on what we give which is incredibly rewarding.”

Simon says this is exactly the kind of work they want to promote.

“We’ve learnt a huge amount from Song and Yvonne and were struck by their kindness and impressed by their drive to do more for his community,” Simon says.

Their family’s support began with a classroom project in Linda, expanded to monthly assistance for school needs, and later funded a borehole near Kazungula.

When introduced to the boys of Maloni, Audrey says:

“We saw their passion for football and it was clear they deserved the chance to be their best on the field – but without proper kit that could never happen.”

Soon afterwards, Simon recalls:

“Songiso lost no time, organised all the kit and immediately arranged a match on Christmas Eve with REK FC playing against a professional team. We were thrilled.”

Rewriting the story of the boy child

Mukena believes the project addresses a wider national issue.

“There was a campaign for educating the girl child,” he says. “That campaign was done very thoroughly. But the boy child was left behind.”

He believes that neglect has contributed to rising numbers of boys labelled as criminals and drug users.

“When a boy’s mind is changed,” Mukena says, “it’s an achievement for the organisation, the community and the country.”

Today, REK works with approximately 100 boys aged between 15 and 22, with about 25 actively involved in recycling and football.

The long-term goal is to establish a recycling and skills training centre employing youth from the community.

“We want a better community,” Mukena says.

Small acts, lasting change

In Maloni, discarded bottles are no longer just waste. They are tools of transformation — funding education, restoring dignity and giving young men a reason to believe in themselves.

For Mukena, success is simple.

“One day we hope a boy will be picked to play for a professional team,” he says, “that will be an incredible achievement for him — and for us.”

And for Simon and Audrey:

“We feel blessed to have Songiso in our lives. Being able to see REK make valuable improvements like these is very rewarding. We’d like more people in the wider donor community to act as we have – together we can make a difference.”

Continue Reading

Slider

From skins to steaks — How wildlife trade is fueling communities in South Africa

Published

on


BY NOKUTHABA DLAMINI 

In the small town of Bela-Bela, a quietly flourishing business is unfolding — one that turns wildlife into livelihood, education, and economic opportunity. On a humid afternoon, we walked into the operations of Estelle Nel Taxidermy (and its parent networks), where rows of beautiful animal mounts — from antelope horns to zebra skins, skulls to full-body trophies — line the walls.

But beyond the busts and custom mounts lies a deeper purpose: this is not simply a display of hunting trophies. It is a system of sustainable use — where animals that die naturally or are hunted legally are completely utilised: meat, skin, horns, bones — nothing goes to waste, and everything acquires value.

Advertisement



As we discovered from our conversations, this network extends beyond taxidermy. Adjacent to the showrooms are processing facilities, butcheries, and game-meat wholesalers — all integral to transforming South Africa’s wild fauna into a formal, regulated, and sustainable economy.

“This is home” — an artisan’s vocation

I sat down with Melanie Viljoen, who serves as Export Secretary at Estelle Nel Taxidermy. Her voice was calm, resolute.

“For me, it’s like this is home and it’s something that I love to do. I love art. I studied art at school. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.”

She told us she’s been with the business for thirteen to fourteen years. Over that time she’s mastered a unique craft. “I’ve found my niche,” she said, “and I’m not going anywhere.”
Melanie explained how the business flows: outfitters bring in international clients to hunt on private farms, then process the animals: trophy mounts for some, meat for others. Locals also bring animals — sometimes for trophies, sometimes just for meat. There is even “school-mount” work: smaller species, sometimes a mother and its young, carefully preserved — not just for hunters, but for children to touch and learn about wildlife up close.

“We mount animals that have died naturally or were hunted… we use everything, from the meat to the skins and curls. It’s a sustainable way of doing business, and everything has a monetary value.”

This, she says, is both business and passion — blending artistry, conservation, and commerce.

From workshops to global markets — taxidermy meets commerce

According to membership details o South African Taxidermy & Tannery Association, Estelle Nel Taxidermy offers a wide range of services: from mounting mammals, birds, reptiles; tanning skins and capes; cleaning, mounting and articulating skulls, bones, horns, tusks; to producing novelty leather items, polished horn décor, engraved bones, hoof lamps — even gunbags and furniture. They offer full export packing and crating services, and help clients ship internationally.
What this means is that skins, hides and trophies — once the culmination of a hunt — become far more than personal souvenirs. They become export commodities, contributing to livelihoods of artisans, packers, shippers, and everyone in between.

Yet, as Pieter Swart President of South African Taxidermy & Tannery Association  (SATTA)/chairman of SUCO-SA) told us, that path to global markets is not without obstacles.
“Certain airlines allow the shipping of these trophies. I think it’s about four airlines that you can ship them overseas, but the rest refuse to take their hunting trophies to destinations. As well as the sea shipments — there’s only one ship going to America every three months. The rest of the shipping lines refuse to take hunting trophies.”

He lamented the difficulty in logistics. And yet, he sees themselves as part of a broader — and misunderstood — effort. “This anti-animal works movement created the idea that hunting is killing the animals and destroying them to extinction — but that is actually quite the opposite,” he said. “More and more, the guys are farming the animals; that is creating a better future for the animals.”

In other words: regulated, sustainable use — of every part of the animal — can coexist with conservation, economic empowerment, and community upliftment.

Game meat: from farm to fork

Next door to the taxidermy showroom, we toured a modest but hygienic meat-processing Camo Meat facility, run by people like Ina Hechter. They explained that their business started small — in 2012 as a private processing butcher for animals from farms. Around 2017 they expanded into wholesale for local markets. Export remains limited, but local demand is growing.

Their meats include species typical of the South African game-meat industry: kudu, impala, springbok, wildebeest, zebra and others. What began as a niche — somewhat stigmatised — trade is slowly gaining acceptance. Some supermarkets and lodges are carrying game meat; more restaurants are offering “veld flavour.”

Ina told me that in times of drought — when traditional livestock farming may suffer — game-meat businesses often see increased activity. Farms with overstocked wildlife or animals unable to survive drought may harvest and sell meat, skins and other resources. In this way, what might have been a loss can become income, conservation, and food security.

“Our parks are so small that they can’t sustain all the animals that are there,” Ina said. “Especially in drought years … when it’s not raining a lot you will see they die and then they sell the animals.”M

She sees game meat not only as a business, but as part of a broader sustainable economy — offering healthy, lean protein to consumers, easing pressure on overburdened habitats, and circulating value in rural and peri-urban communities.

More than meat and trophies — a conservation-economy model

What struck me during the tour was how holistic the operation is. It isn’t just about hunters bringing back trophies. It’s about using every bit of what exists: meat, skins, hides, horns, bones — even skulls, and decorative by-products. From full-body mounts to polished horn décor, from retail game-meat packages to furniture made from hoofs: this is a full-value chain.

Companies like Estelle Nel Taxidermy are members of formal trade associations and provide professional services — tanning, mounting, packing, export documentation — and in doing so, they help formalize trade in wildlife products.
Meanwhile, the game meat industry — though historically informal — is slowly growing more regulated. According to a recent national biodiversity-economy strategy, game-meat production supports economic growth, food security, and employment. The most commonly produced and consumed species: impala, kudu, wildebeest, springbok.

In other words: when properly managed, this sector has the potential to transform perceptions of wildlife — from being simply “wild animals” to resources that can feed, employ and uplift entire communities.

Challenges — logistics, stigma, regulation

But it’s not all smooth. As Pieter Swart highlighted, export logistics remain a bottleneck: only a few airlines transport trophies; shipping lines are often reluctant; sea freight to markets like the United States may come only every few months. This makes it harder for the industry to scale globally.
Domestically, the market for game meat and wildlife products still battles cultural and regulatory stigma. Many people still frown at game meat; supermarkets and restaurants are only slowly integrating it.

Regulation is another issue: for the industry to be sustainable, wildlife needs to be farmed or managed responsibly, harvesting must follow quotas, and processing must meet health and safety standards. When abattoirs, tanneries, and exporting agents comply with regulation, this gives the industry legitimacy — but it also requires oversight, capacity, and buy-in from all stakeholders.

A snapshot

Our visit painted a picture of a wildlife economy that’s evolving: where skilled artisans turn skins, horns, skulls into enduring art; where processors supply game meat to homes, restaurants and hotels; where farms, outfitters, taxidermists, meat processors, exporters, and even children (learning from mounted displays) all form part of an ecosystem.

It’s a world that challenges simplistic ideas of wildlife as either “pristine wilderness” or “endangered species.” Instead, it shows how — if managed with respect, regulation, and purpose — natural resources can sustain livelihoods, build economies, and forge a bridge between conservation and commerce.

For many of those involved — from Melanie Viljoen to Ina Hechter and Pieter Swart — it’s not just business. It’s home. It’s art. It’s the future.

Advertisement



Continue Reading

Slider

Zimbabwe pushes youth-centred, rights-based, and community-driven reforms ahead of CITES CoP20

Published

on

BY NOKUTHABA DLAMINI 

As the world prepares for the 20th Conference of the Parties (CoP20) to the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species of Wild Fauna and Flora (CITES), Zimbabwe has outlined a bold and comprehensive policy agenda that shifts global discussions beyond ivory and toward broader issues of sustainable use, human rights, and community empowerment.

In an exclusive interview with VicFallsLive, Dr. Agrippa Sora, board chairman of the Zimbabwe Parks and Wildlife Management Authority (ZimParks), said the country’s proposals are anchored on a simple but transformative message: wildlife conservation must deliver real benefits to the people living with wildlife.

Key proposals Zimbabwe taking to CITES CoP20

1. Commercial trade in elephant leather products

Zimbabwe is pushing for approval to engage in regulated commercial trade in elephant leather products. Authorities argue that this form of value addition can bring economic gains to local communities, promote sustainable use, and reduce reliance on donor funding.

2. A formal voice for communities within CITES

Zimbabwe is advocating for the establishment of an Advisory Body or Community Forum within CITES, ensuring that the voices of rural people—who coexist with wildlife—formally shape decisions on international trade, conservation restrictions, and benefit-sharing.

This push echoes one of the founding principles of CITES, which acknowledges that “peoples and States are and should be the best protectors of their own wild fauna and flora.”

3. Recognition of human rights within conservation governance

Zimbabwe’s delegation wants CoP20 to acknowledge the human rights dimensions of conservation—particularly:

  • The right to safety for communities facing human–wildlife conflict
  • The right to food security
  • The right to benefit from natural resources within their landscapes

For Zimbabwe, these rights are inseparable from wildlife management.

Moving beyond ivory: A broader view of sustainable use

Dr. Sora emphasized that Zimbabwe does not want the CoP20 debate to be reduced to ivory.

Zimbabwe argues that without these broader interventions, the conservation model remains unbalanced—protecting wildlife while leaving the people who live among it trapped in poverty

Youth at the centre of the conservation agenda

One of the strongest themes in Zimbabwe’s CoP20 position is youth empowerment, an area Dr. Sora said is now central to national conservation policy.

“Zimbabwe is supporting the Youth Ethnic Conservation Agenda, and we want to continue empowering young people,” Dr. Sora said.

“These are young people who travel long distances between villages and shopping centres, often unaware of wildlife incidents happening around them.”

He revealed that Zimbabwe has approved the establishment of a national chapter of the CITES Rural Youth Network, a platform designed to give young rural citizens a voice in global conservation decision-making.

Dr. Sora said young people—often traveling long distances between villages and service centres—are the first responders to wildlife encounters, yet are rarely included in policy processes.

“Their inclusion is critical for awareness, safety, and community resilience,” he said.

A rights-based approach linked to national priorities

Dr. Sora linked Zimbabwe’s CITES proposals to the country’s National Development Strategy (NDS2), which prioritises poverty eradication.

“We want to ensure that communities living within wildlife landscapes receive meaningful support and benefits from the natural resources around them,” he said.

This includes promoting value addition—for example, crafting products from elephant leather—and enabling community enterprises tied to legal wildlife products.

“We are promoting opportunities for value addition so that communities can benefit economically from the wildlife with which they coexist.”

He added that the board is committed to transitioning youth from vulnerability to empowerment, ensuring access to education, business opportunities, and long-term livelihoods.

Unlocking finance through sustainable use

Zimbabwe also plans to push for financial mechanisms—particularly the sustainable use of existing wildlife stockpiles—to support community development.

“Our aim is to secure mechanisms that allow us to reinvest in these communities, strengthening their resilience and ensuring they thrive alongside wildlife.”

Zimbabwe argues that restrictive global trade rules deprive communities of funding that could improve safety, reduce human–wildlife conflict, and support conservation programs.

Zimbabwe’s position rooted in CITES founding principles

Zimbabwe’s proposals, Dr. Sora said, are consistent with the spirit of CITES itself.

The convention’s preamble affirms:

Wild fauna and flora are an irreplaceable part of the earth’s natural systems… Peoples and States are and should be the best protectors of their own wild fauna and flora… International cooperation is essential to prevent over-exploitation…

Zimbabwe believes that empowering communities, recognizing human rights, and enabling sustainable use are simply modern applications of these foundational principles.

Continue Reading

Trending

Copyright © 2022 VicFallsLive. All rights reserved, powered by Advantage