Once an emergency response to waves of displaced people fleeing violence in neighboring countries, Kakuma Refugee Camp has grown into one of Africa’s most iconic and longstanding settlements. Now, more than 30 years after its founding in 1992, Kakuma is home to over 300,000 refugees—mainly from South Sudan, Ethiopia, and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Amid worsening humanitarian conditions and rising tensions over shrinking food rations, Kenya has unveiled an ambitious initiative to reclassify Kakuma as a municipality. The camp, still managed by the UNHCR, is being integrated into Kenya’s local governance system, with the long-term goal of becoming a self-reliant urban center. This is part of a broader shift in refugee policy from long-term aid dependency toward economic inclusion.
But transforming Kakuma into a sustainable city is a steep challenge. Refugees still face severe movement restrictions, limited access to citizenship, and scarce resources—particularly water and land. While a 2021 refugee law permits formal employment, implementation remains sluggish, with most refugees restricted to the informal economy. Because of prohibitions on livestock and farming, many residents see entrepreneurship as the only viable path. However, high-interest bank loans—often exceeding 20%—and lack of collateral or ID documents make credit access nearly impossible for most.
Organizations like Inkomoko, an NGO focused on refugee-led businesses, offer a lifeline. The group provides low-interest loans, business training, and connections to wider markets. Since launching in Kakuma, Inkomoko has issued over $115,000 in loans to entrepreneurs. Adele Mubalama, a Congolese refugee and mother of six, launched a tailoring business after learning to sew masks during the pandemic. With Inkomoko’s support, she expanded to employ 26 people, earning over $8,000 in profit last year—a life-changing sum in a setting where aid packages are often worth less than $10 per month.
Another success story is Mesfin Getahun, an Ethiopian refugee who arrived in 2001. His “Jesus is Lord” retail chain is now Kakuma’s largest, selling goods ranging from groceries to motorcycles. Inkomoko helped him bypass costly middlemen by sourcing supplies directly from Eldoret, 480 km south.
Despite these efforts, experts warn that economic growth alone won’t be enough. Rahul Oka, an anthropologist at the University of Notre Dame, argues that Kakuma’s harsh climate and lack of infrastructure make self-sufficiency nearly impossible. “You cannot reconstruct an organic economy by socially engineering one,” he said. Furthermore, trade remains largely one-way: goods arrive in Kakuma, but few leave. And most refugees still cannot legally travel to other regions of Kenya to seek work or expand businesses, a major obstacle to meaningful integration.
Freddie Carver of ODI Global warns that the push for economic independence risks overshadowing the need for legal rights and protections. “The focus has shifted from the right to stay and work to self-sufficiency—without addressing the core barriers to those livelihoods.” As Kakuma evolves into a test case for refugee integration across Africa, its future rests on whether Kenya and its partners can strike a balance between economic opportunity and legal empowerment—and whether a refugee camp born out of crisis can truly become a thriving city.
