Deadly scholarship: How 25-year-old was lured to serve in Russian military

Jacob Njehia from Timboroa keeps scrolling through the photos of his son Kevin.

In one photo, Kevin Njehia stands in uniform at sunset, the fading light casting a glow on his determined face. In another, he is walking away, his back turned to the camera.

“It is like he was telling us we would not see him again,” Jacob says.

In 2023, 25-year-old Kevin told his father he was applying for a scholarship in Russia. A friend based in St Petersburg had shared a link and encouraged him to apply, explaining that he had completed a military contract and was now pursuing his studies.

“My son told me he wanted to try. At the time, he didn’t even have the required documents, including a passport,” Jacob recalls.

According to Jacob, the scholarship required mandatory military service for between six and twelve months.

“I had asked him to let it go because of the escalating war. But he asked me to release him,” he said.

Kevin applied for a passport and was later invited for an interview at the Russian Embassy. He failed the Russian language test on his first attempt and appeared to give up on the opportunity.

But in late August 2025, two years later, Kevin called his father with unexpected news.

“He told me, dad, my Russia application has gone through. I have received an email asking if I am still interested,” Jacob says.

Kevin confirmed his interest. Within two weeks, he was informed that his visa and air ticket would be ready. Days later, he sent his father a copy of the visa issued by the Russian government. Shortly after, he received an air ticket for September 8, 2025, departing at 11am from JKIA to Moscow.

He was instructed to carry 90 US dollars (about Sh11, 700) as pocket money.

“I didn’t have money at the time. I had to borrow to facilitate his shopping and pocket money. As a family, we agreed that instead of travelling to Nairobi to see him off, we would use what little we had to prepare him,” he said.

Kevin arrived in Moscow on September 9, 2025, and assured his family he had landed safely and cleared all procedures. Six days later, he told his father he had completed paperwork and was being taken to a training camp.

“We spoke every day after training. Most of the time, we did video calls. He was jovial,” Jacob remembers.

On October 24, 2025, Kevin sent a message saying he and others were being deployed to the frontline. He said he was attached to the 13th Brigade Tank Battalion.

The following days were tense. Jacob’s calls on October 25, 26 and 27 went unanswered. Eventually, Kevin responded, explaining that there had been a heavy attack along the way, which had disrupted communication. He asked his father not to inform his mother about the dangers he was facing.

On October 28, at 1:51pm, Kevin sent what would be his final message.

“He told me their journey was successful and that they had been placed on the frontline. He said it might take time before we communicated again. He asked me to keep him in prayers. After that, he went offline completely,” Jacob said.

Before communication ceased, Kevin had told his father that six Kenyans were in his unit. They had formed a WhatsApp group that included their parents, and they communicated regularly. The families hoped contact would resume once the soldiers left the operation zone. Kevin had mentioned they would be on the frontline for two months.

In November, one of the Kenyans in the WhatsApp group posted that their unit had been attacked. One soldier had been killed, while others were missing.

“I privately messaged the one who posted and told him I was Kevin’s father. He told me he knew Kevin and that he was okay. My heart settled,” Jacob says.

In early December, Jacob received a message forwarded by Kevin’s Russian friend. Kevin had sent it to him, and the friend passed it along.

“In that message, Kevin said he was not okay. He was pleading to be moved to safety,” Jacob says.

Confused and alarmed, Jacob replied to the friend. The message has never been received to date. The friend, too, went silent.

Last Wednesday, Jacob received word that Kevin’s unit was attacked in December and his son was believed to have died. Around 11pm that same day, he received a call from a young man who identified himself as Kevin’s friend.

The caller said he had decided to break the news because those who were with Kevin were afraid to do so. He told Jacob that Kevin’s unit had been attacked in December 2025 and he died.

“I was shocked. I tried to console myself,” Jacob says.

When he asked about retrieving his son’s body, the caller said it would be difficult.

Jacob has since filed a missing person report with the State Department for Diaspora Affairs. He says his email was acknowledged and is being worked on. The family is now waiting for confirmation — whether Kevin is truly dead or still alive, and what steps can follow.

Kevin had dreams. He told his father he would return with enough capital to run a company he had registered. He promised to support the family financially and even help clear a Sh500, 000 loan Jacob had lost to fraudsters who had promised to secure a nursing job in the United Kingdom for Kevin’s sister.

While in training, Kevin sent Sh120,000 to help offset some of the family’s loans. His father had expected more support in the months ahead.

Jacob says he has yet to contact the Russian Embassy and does not know the agent who facilitated his son’s recruitment.

Kevin’s mother, Janet Njehia, clings to hope.

“Since he left, I have always prayed for him. His father would remind me that Kevin was on the war frontline, not on a football field, and that I should be ready for anything,” she said.

Still, she believes her son will return.

“I will not question God. I believe God will help us and we will cope. Kevin used to encourage me. He would tell me how he saw us struggle to raise them. If I had known he was going to die, I would not have allowed him to go,” she says through sobs.

She says the Russian government should take responsibility and help trace their son.