Unlike hate speech, which directly targets specific groups with insults or dehumanization, fear speech operates subtly. It uses exaggerated threats, emotional manipulation, and dog-whistle language to sow panic and cast certain groups as dangerous or unpatriotic. In Kenya’s case, this strategy became increasingly visible as government-aligned influencers, pseudo-news accounts, and anonymous users on platforms like X (formerly Twitter), TikTok, and Facebook began framing protesters in the last protests as “foreign-funded anarchists,” “economic saboteurs,” and “terror sympathizers.”
Their objective is usually to discredit the protest movement by portraying it as part of a larger, sinister agenda. Some posts suggested that the demonstrations were being orchestrated by NGOs aligned with “Western interests,” while others floated conspiracies about foreign embassies funding Kenyan youth to destabilize the country. This narrative was not only false it was dangerous. It painted young, jobless Kenyans standing up for their economic rights as enemies of the state, traitors, or pawns in global political games.
At the center of this fear-based propaganda was the intentional blending of misinformation with fear speech. Old images from past riots were shared out of context to exaggerate the violence. Deeply edited videos of looting were used to suggest chaos. Several influential accounts even falsely claimed that armed groups had infiltrated the demonstrations. One widely circulated post alleged that protesters were planning to storm State House a narrative that, although baseless, sparked alarm and gave security forces justification for an aggressive crackdown.
The result was a shift in public sentiment. While many Kenyans initially supported the youth protests, fear speech created confusion and division. Some citizens, especially older generations, began questioning the intentions of the movement. “Why would they reject taxes if they aren’t being used by outsiders?” This is exactly how fear speech operates it doesn’t have to convince everyone. It only needs to plant enough doubt to weaken solidarity and justify repression.
Offline, the impact of this narrative was chilling. Protesters faced disproportionate police force, arbitrary arrests, and according to human rights observers enforced disappearances. The state’s response was not just physical but digital, amplified by the narrative that it was dealing with a threat to national stability rather than a legitimate expression of dissent.
What made this fear speech campaign especially effective was its use of language coded in patriotism. Those calling for calm were labeled “real Kenyans,” while protesters were dismissed as “paid mobs.” The moral high ground was framed around law, order, and economic recovery, painting resistance as chaos. Yet in reality, many of the demonstrators were young professionals, students, creatives, and unemployed youth those most affected by rising living costs, joblessness, and taxation on essentials.
The climate of fear created by these narratives made it harder to organize, harder to speak out, and harder to protest without being labeled a threat.
The June 2024 Finance Bill protests are a case study in how powerful online narratives can shape public discourse, twist truth, and criminalize legitimate dissent. In a country where the internet is now the primary source of information for many, unchecked fear speech is not just a threat to free speech but a threat to democracy.