In the annals of Nairobi’s Eastlands, a shadowy menace had taken root. Back in December 2017, I reported on the infamous Gaza gang, a criminal outfit that had been tormenting the community for two relentless years. The event that caught everyone’s attention was the surrender of 21 Gaza gang members in a dramatic negotiation at Njiru market, Nairobi. This unexpected development provided a glimmer of hope, but it also raised perplexing questions.
While Kenya had a long history of gang activity, it was an anomaly to see girls among the group that yielded to the authorities that day. Typically, the criminal underworld in Kenya had been a male-dominated realm, with females relegated to peripheral roles. Yet here, in the heart of Eastlands, girls were not just participants; they were emerging as significant players in a world that had always been considered a male stronghold.
Despite the government’s two-year crackdown on Gaza and the surrender of these 21 members, the war against this notorious gang showed no signs of abating. In the days that followed the high-profile amnesty event in Njiru, violence continued to grip the area. A Chief Inspector in charge of Administration Police was fatally shot and robbed, raising suspicions that Gaza was far from defeated. The gangsters appeared to operate with a brazen fearlessness, demonstrating a disregard for law enforcement.
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The statistics were chilling. Over 240 teenagers had been arrested in the first half of that year for crimes linked to Gaza, and shockingly, nearly a quarter of them were girls. Equally disturbing was the fact that an almost equal number had been killed, often due to their possession of firearms. It was a grim reality for Kayole and neighboring estates like Dandora, Komarock, Njiru, Kasarani, Umoja, Utawala, and Doonholm, where law enforcement’s attempts to curb teenage gang activity had proven inadequate.
Ali Nuno, the OCPD of Kayole, issued a stern warning: “Anyone found with a firearm will be shot on sight.” The gang members who had surrendered sought negotiations with elders, seemingly desperate to avoid the fate that had befallen so many of their peers.
However, what was most concerning was the increased involvement of girls in the gang’s criminal activities. Some reports even suggested that these girls were younger, tougher, and sometimes more violent than their male counterparts. In one particularly harrowing incident, two girls were part of a gang that terrorized shopkeepers in Kayole estate, showcasing a boldness and ruthlessness that was previously unimaginable.
This rise of female gang members was marked by their distinctive street style – flashy silver necklaces and rings, colloquially known as “wayawaya.” They flaunted their jewelry, firearms, and drug connections openly, even on social media platforms like Facebook.
For instance, a girl who went by the moniker “Lexy Galdem Shuga” posted a photo featuring bullets laid out on Kenyan currency notes and American dollars, with comments from her friends revealing a disturbing level of bravado and casual discussion about crime. This public display of criminality was a disconcerting sign of the times.
The allure of joining gangs like Gaza was driven by a complex mix of factors for many girls. Some saw it as a form of protection from sexual violence and unwanted attention, while others craved the sense of belonging that came with gang membership. Regardless of the reasons, the involvement of young girls in criminal activities posed a significant challenge for law enforcement.
These girls’ lives were far from typical. Many enjoyed a standard of living that their neighbors could only dream of, funded by their involvement in crime. Their affluence contrasted sharply with the daily threats they faced, as police officers were instructed to shoot anyone in possession of a firearm, regardless of gender. Yet, it seemed that the allure of quick money, societal affirmation, and protection from sexual harassment were powerful motivators.
In the years since that article, the phenomenon of female gang members has continued to evolve, and the tragic tales of pretty thugs, like Claire Njoki and Marsha Minaj, serve as stark reminders of the dangers they face. These young women, some as young as 14, often find themselves caught in a relentless cycle of violence and crime, leaving their lives lonely and fragile.
The emergence of female gangsters was a social upheaval that authorities had initially underestimated. As they increasingly became active participants in gang activities, the landscape of crime in Eastlands and beyond underwent a significant transformation. The fascination with the apparent glamour of gang life among teenagers continued to pose a challenge for the community and
law enforcement alike.
