Prelude: The Interwoven Threads of Nile Valley Exile
In the vast tapestry of East Africa’s humanitarian landscape, where the mighty Nile River serves as both a lifeline and a divider, the insidious forces of disinformation and hate speech have woven a narrative of division and despair. This article delves into the escalating conflicts within Uganda’s Kiryandongo Refugee Settlement, where South Sudanese refugees have turned against their Sudanese counterparts in acts of violence that echo deeper regional traumas. These incidents are not isolated outbursts but extensions of a chain reaction sparked by tragic events in Sudan’s Gezira State—known locally as Al Jazeera—particularly the targeting of the marginalized Kanabi community. Rooted in historical ethnic tensions and amplified by modern digital channels, this analysis illuminates how false narratives and venomous rhetoric traverse borders, transforming shared spaces of refuge into battlegrounds of retribution. By examining the mechanisms of disinformation and hate speech, we uncover their profound role in perpetuating cycles of displacement and discord among peoples bound by the Nile’s ancient flow.
The Nile Valley, encompassing Sudan and South Sudan, has long been a cradle of diverse cultures, from the Arab-influenced north to the Nilotic tribes of the south. Yet, this diversity has often been a source of conflict, exacerbated by colonial legacies, resource disputes, and political manipulations. In recent years, Sudan’s civil war between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) has displaced millions, many fleeing southward into South Sudan and beyond to Uganda. Concurrently, South Sudan’s own ethnic strife, involving groups like the Dinka and Nuer, has created overlapping refugee flows. These displaced populations carry not just physical scars but also narratives of grievance, which disinformation exploits to sow further seeds of hatred.
Legacy of the Sudd: Regional Refugee Interdependencies and Vulnerabilities
East Africa stands as a beacon of hospitality amid global refugee crises, with Uganda hosting over 1.7 million refugees as of mid-2025, making it the continent’s largest refugee-hosting nation. Kiryandongo Refugee Settlement, nestled in Uganda’s Kiryandongo District along the Victoria Nile, exemplifies this burden and benevolence. Established in the 1990s to accommodate Sudanese fleeing the Second Sudanese Civil War, the settlement has evolved into a sprawling haven for over 130,000 individuals by 2025, predominantly from Sudan and South Sudan, with smaller numbers from Burundi and the Democratic Republic of Congo.
The demographic mosaic of Kiryandongo reflects the Nile’s connective geography: Sudanese refugees, often from conflict-ravaged areas like Darfur, Khartoum, and Gezira, coexist with South Sudanese who escaped their country’s 2013 civil war and subsequent flare-ups. Shared linguistic ties—Arabic in Sudan, Dinka and Nuer languages in South Sudan—and cultural practices, such as communal storytelling around evening fires, could foster unity. However, chronic underfunding of humanitarian aid has strained resources, leading to shortages in food rations, clean water, and medical services. Reports from organizations like the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) highlight how these scarcities breed competition, with refugees vying for limited plots of land for farming or spots in overcrowded schools.
Moreover, ethnic affiliations blur national boundaries; some South Sudanese trace ancestral roots to Sudanese border regions, while historical alliances during independence struggles create layered loyalties. In this context, disinformation acts as a catalyst, reframing resource disputes as ethnic vendettas. Hate speech, often invoking tribal stereotypes—portraying Sudanese as “arrogant invaders” or South Sudanese as “primitive warriors”—erodes fragile coexistences. The settlement’s porous structure, with minimal fencing and reliance on community policing, leaves it vulnerable to external influences, including rumors carried by new arrivals or disseminated via mobile phones, which have become ubiquitous even in remote camps.
Gezira’s Silent Storm: The Kanabi Persecution and the Birth of Toxic Narratives
The genesis of this tragic sequence lies in Sudan’s fertile Gezira State, nurturing vast agricultural plains but also harboring deep-seated inequalities. In November 2024, the Kanabi community—a historically marginalized group of pastoralists with perceived ethnic links to South Sudanese tribes—became the focal point of a vicious campaign. Amid the broader Sudanese civil war, pro-SAF online networks unleashed a barrage of hate speech and misinformation, accusing the Kanabi of collaborating with RSF militias or sabotaging irrigation schemes critical to the region’s economy.
Eyewitness accounts describe coordinated assaults on Kanabi villages, involving arson, forced evictions, and extrajudicial killings, displacing many. What elevated this from a local atrocity to a regional incendiary was the digital amplification: fabricated videos and posts circulated on platforms like Facebook and Telegram, depicting Kanabi members as armed insurgents committing atrocities against other groups. Hate speech employed dehumanizing terms, branding them as “vermin infesting the Nile’s banks” or “foreign infiltrators,” drawing on longstanding prejudices against nomadic communities in sedentary farming societies.
This disinformation campaign was not spontaneous; analysts suggest it served political ends, diverting attention from military setbacks and consolidating support for certain factions. The Kanabi, lacking strong advocacy networks, saw their pleas drowned out in the cacophony of online vitriol. As news spread southward, it resonated with South Sudanese communities, who interpreted the attacks as assaults on “kin across the border,” given shared ethnic ties. Thus, a localized incident in Gezira’s sun-baked fields morphed into a symbol of broader Sudanese aggression, priming the ground for retaliatory sentiments.
Juba’s Turbulent Currents: From Online Venom to Street-Level Retaliation
By January 2025, the ripples from Gezira reached Juba, South Sudan’s bustling capital along the White Nile, where a sizable Sudanese expatriate community—traders, educators, and laborers—had long contributed to the economy. Triggered by reports of violence in Wad Madani (another Gezira hub), where SAF-aligned groups allegedly killed 29 South Sudanese migrants, anti-Sudanese riots erupted. Misinformation proliferated, with altered images and false testimonies claiming systematic targeting of South Sudanese in Sudan, linking back to the Kanabi events as “evidence” of a genocidal pattern.
Hate speech in Juba manifested in inflammatory radio broadcasts, social media threads, and public rallies, portraying Sudanese residents as economic parasites or spies. Phrases like “expel the northern poison” echoed historical resentments from South Sudan’s secession in 2011. The violence escalated: Sudanese-owned shops were looted, homes torched, and individuals assaulted in broad daylight. Expats reported evictions en masse, with some fleeing to refugee camps. Political opportunism played a role; amid South Sudan’s economic woes and delayed elections, leaders amplified these narratives to unify fractured ethnic bases.
This phase illustrated the psychological warfare of hate speech: by collectivizing blame, it justified mob actions as “self-defense.” The absence of robust media regulation in Juba allowed disinformation to spread unchecked, deepening divides. For Sudanese expats, already vulnerable as minorities, these incidents compounded trauma, pushing many toward Uganda in search of safety, only to encounter echoed hostilities.
Kiryandongo’s Fractured Haven: Retaliation in the Shadow of the Victoria Nile
The climax unfolded on July 11, 2025, in Kiryandongo, where over 100 armed South Sudanese refugees stormed Sudanese clusters, wielding machetes and clubs. At least one Sudanese refugee was killed, with over 30 injured—some critically—in clashes that spanned clusters C and beyond. Ugandan police intervened belatedly, but the damage was done: homes were razed, possessions were stolen, and trust was shattered.
These attacks directly stemmed from Juba’s unrest, fueled by the same disinformation chain. Refugees received viral messages linking Sudanese camp residents to Gezira perpetrators, accusing them of harboring “anti-South Sudanese” sentiments. Hate speech invoked Nile folklore, twisting tales of unity into warnings of betrayal. Resource strains—exacerbated by a doubling of Sudanese arrivals to over 45,000 amid funding cuts—intensified perceptions of favoritism. Community leaders noted how youth, idle due to limited education, were particularly susceptible to online incitement.
The violence disrupted aid distribution, with clinics overwhelmed and water points contested. It highlighted systemic failures: inadequate security, poor digital literacy programs, and delayed psychosocial support, allowing hate narratives to fester.
Unraveling the Venom: Dynamics of Disinformation and Hate in Nile Contexts
Disinformation and hate speech thrive through layered mechanisms tailored to Nile Valley realities. Digitally, platforms bridge isolated communities, but low literacy enables unchecked propagation—Gezira’s fake posts reached Juba in hours. Ethnically, they exploit Nilotic rivalries, framing Kanabi as proxies for larger conflicts. Politically, actors manipulate for gain, as seen in Sudan’s propaganda wars. Psychologically, they foster “othering,” turning neighbors into threats.
Broader patterns reveal gendered impacts: women, comprising most refugees, face heightened sexual violence amid chaos. Environmental stressors, such as Nile floods, exacerbate vulnerabilities by displacing more people.
Ripples Across the Watershed: Long-Term Ramifications for Displaced Nile Peoples
Beyond immediate tolls, Kiryandongo’s clashes threaten Uganda’s refugee model, risking policy shifts toward repatriation. Regionally, they could spark copycat violence in settlements like Bidi Bidi. Humanitarily, underfunded responses—WFP cuts rations amid donor fatigue—worsen hunger, with Sudanese refugees in Kiryandongo facing malnutrition rates above 20%.
For communities, perpetual trauma hinders integration; children witness cycles of hate, perpetuating divisions. Yet, glimmers of resilience emerge: grassroots peace initiatives, drawing on shared Nile rituals, offer hope.
Epilogue: Quelling the Nile’s Storm – Pathways to Harmony
The Kiryandongo violence, tracing back to Gezira’s Kanabi ordeal via Juba’s turmoil, underscores disinformation’s destructive reach. Countering requires Nile-centric strategies: bolstering fact-checking in local languages, promoting inter-ethnic dialogues rooted in shared heritage, and holding platforms accountable. Only by silencing hateful echoes can the Nile’s peoples reclaim refuge as a bridge, not a barrier, to peace.
