By Ipole Amajama
Russia’s war in Ukraine has not only devastated cities and lives across Eastern Europe but has also rippled far beyond the battlefield, ensnaring vulnerable communities across Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Recent investigations by Amnesty International reveal that thousands of foreign nationals have been trafficked or coerced into joining Russian forces, often under false pretenses of civilian employment.
At the same time, Moscow is expanding its network of cultural centres across Africa, presenting itself as a benevolent partner in education and culture.
Together, these two developments highlight a dual strategy: cultivating influence through soft power while exploiting economic vulnerability for military ends.
A report by Amnesty International, Russia: Trafficking of Foreign Nationals to Fight in Ukraine, released this September, paints a disturbing picture of how foreign nationals are drawn into Russia’s war effort. Many were promised jobs in construction, logistics, or security, only to discover upon arrival in Russia that they had unknowingly signed military contracts. Testimonies from prisoners of war describe contracts signed without informed consent, passports confiscated, and recruits rushed to the front lines after minimal training.
One Sri Lankan recruit, “Nalin,” recounted being promised a civilian security job. Upon arrival in Moscow, he was presented with documents in Russian—without translation—and pressured to sign. What he signed turned out to be a military contract, and within weeks he was deployed to Ukraine. Others from Somalia, South Africa, Nigeria and Peru shared similar stories of deception, economic exploitation, and broken promises of high salaries or Russian citizenship.
Amnesty concludes that these practices amount to human trafficking. “The level of exploitation and coercion involved leads to the conclusion that the reported practices connected to the recruitment of foreign nationals to fight for Russian forces in many cases amount to the crime of trafficking in persons,” the report states. Victims often came from economically precarious backgrounds, making them easy targets for recruiters who dangled promises of prosperity.
The exploitation does not stop at Russia’s borders. Migrants and refugees already living in Russia have also been coerced into military service. Many faced expired visas, police harassment, or threats of deportation. Recruiters offered them a way out: sign a military contract in exchange for legal status, a salary, and the promise of citizenship.
While Amnesty documents the coercive recruitment of Africans into Russia’s war, Moscow is simultaneously expanding its cultural footprint on the continent. Russia’s humanitarian agency, Rossotrudnichestvo, recently announced the opening of eight new “Russian Houses” in Africa, adding to the 16 already established. These centres, located in countries such as Kenya, Mali, Senegal, Sierra Leone, and Madagascar, aim to promote Russian language, education, science, and culture.
Igor Chaika, head of Rossotrudnichestvo, described the initiative as a way to “significantly change the programme itself” by intensifying cultural engagement and tailoring educational programmes to the needs of African countries. Scholarships, exchanges, and micro‑grant programmes are being rolled out to strengthen ties. Russia insists that these centres will train doctors, engineers, and other specialists who can return home to contribute to their countries’ development.
Russia’s cultural expansion cannot be separated from its growing security role in Africa. The Wagner Group, now rebranded as the Africa Corps, has become a key partner for military governments in Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso. These juntas, seeking to distance themselves from France and other Western powers, have turned to Russian mercenaries for support against jihadist insurgencies.
At the same time, reports have surged of African nationals being recruited into Russia’s war in Ukraine. Kenya, in particular, has seen significant numbers of men lured by job agencies promising work opportunities in Russia, only to end up on the battlefield. The Kenyan government has blamed these agencies for exploiting economic desperation. Russia, for its part, insists that all foreign recruits joined voluntarily “in full compliance with Russian law,” though it agreed earlier this year not to deploy Kenyans to the front.
The juxtaposition is striking. On one hand, Russia presents itself as a cultural benefactor, opening schools, offering scholarships, and teaching language. On the other, it exploits vulnerable populations, deceiving them into military service. The cultural centres may serve to soften Russia’s image, countering negative perceptions of its recruitment practices and projecting an image of friendship and opportunity.
This dual strategy reflects a broader geopolitical ambition. By embedding itself in African education and culture, Russia builds long‑term influence that could normalize its presence and make recruitment easier. The promise of scholarships and cultural exchange may appeal to young Africans, while the reality of coercive recruitment underscores the risks of engagement with Moscow.
The human cost of these practices is immense. Families in Peru, Sri Lanka, Somalia, and Kenya have been left in anguish, uncertain whether their loved ones are alive. Amnesty International has documented cases where recruits received no payment, were denied communication with families, and were subjected to threats when they tried to leave military service.
Governments in Africa and Latin America have expressed concern. The governments of Kenya, South Africa, Cameroon and Nigeria have warned their nationals against these “predatory recruitment practices” targeting their citizens. Yet the scale of the problem remains vast. As of April 2026, Ukrainian authorities estimated that at least 28,391 foreign nationals from 136 countries had fought for Russia in Ukraine.
Russia’s actions reveal a two‑pronged approach: coercion and culture. Through deceptive recruitment, it has trafficked thousands into its war machine. Through cultural centres, it seeks to present itself as a partner in education and development. Together, these strategies highlight Moscow’s determination to expand its influence beyond the battlefield, particularly in Africa.
Amajama, a social and policy analyst, writes from Abuja and can be reached via amajamaip@gmail.com