Crossing into chaos: Inside Busia's ruthless money exchange racket

At the Kenya-Uganda Busia border post, chaos is the currency. Whether you arrive by personal vehicle, bus, matatu, motorcycle, bicycle, or on foot, as you approach the busy bus terminal, a deafening chorus of voices immediately overwhelms you.

Men and women of all ages compete for your attention as you disembark each eager to persuade you to exchange your money with them. Their shouts rise above the rumble of trucks and passenger buses lining up for border clearance, blending with the constant hum of traders hawking goods and travelers shuffling toward their respective destinations.

“Are you heading to Uganda?” “Change your money here!” “I’ll give you the best rates!”

Each voice is louder than the next, their pitches rehearsed and aggressive. These are the border’s infamous moneychangers, their eyes scanning every new arrival for a potential target. Amid the din of honking trucks and buses, the sharp beep-beep of motorbikes, traders' chatter, and the general buzz of border activity, they stand out like wolves circling their prey, as they persistently vie for attention with the urgency of bees around a hive.

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For traders and travelers crossing the border on foot through the ungazetted pathways, the ordeal becomes even messier. Narrow trails snake between busy stalls, a maze of human traffic, and crowded clearance lanes, where traders hawk everything from ripe bananas to counterfeit electronics.

Their slick pitches and seemingly irresistible money exchange rates have ensnared countless victims, leading to losses of hundreds of thousands of shillings. It is a high-pressure environment designed to disorient even the most seasoned traveler or trader. Adding to the commotion, police officers are visibly stationed along these paths, ostensibly conducting impromptu checks or engaging passersby under the guise of routine searches.

But it is a thinly veiled charade. Bribes exchange hands openly—a quick slip of cash, a nod, and the traveler or trader is waved to go through.  For those unfamiliar with this frenzied atmosphere, the experience can be overwhelming. Yet, this is the unspoken economy of the One-Stop-Busia border, where deception thrives. For the thousands who pass through daily, the real challenge is not just crossing the border but keeping their dignity and money intact.

Busia border post is more than just a crossing point; it is one of the busiest borders in East Africa serving as a gateway to economic opportunities, stretching beyond Kampala to Juba, Kigali to Kinshasa, or Gitega in Burundi. The border is highly porous, with over 60 formal and informal crossing points. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), approximately 3,000 people and over 1,000 vehicles, including trucks, cross daily through formal gates.

The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) set an ambitious target last year to raise Sh1 billion in revenue from the Busia and Malaba One-Stop Border Posts by the end of June.

The Busia border post alone contributed approximately Sh 450 million per month, with expectations of further growth driven by increasing transit of lorries carrying goods such as coffee, fish, and other agricultural commodities through these regulated checkpoints.

However, the flow of people, vehicles, motorbikes, bicycles, and goods through unregulated pathways like those at the Sophia market remains difficult to estimate. These informal crossings reflect a major gap in oversight and revenue collection, complicating efforts to capture the economic activity at the border fully. It is also nearly impossible to quantify daily amount raked in by illegal moneychangers and swindlers exploiting the vulnerabilities of traders and travelers in these informal areas. Efforts to reach Busia County Executive Committee member for Trade, Industry, and Cooperatives, Omuse Olakacuna, to comment on the issue, were unsuccessful, as he did not return our calls despite previously promising to provide details.

This dual nature of border activity highlights Busia's role as a critical regional trade hub, attracting traders to the border post with the promise of more affordable goods on the Ugandan side. Items such as grain, textiles, sugar, electronics, and fuel are often cheaper across the border, fueling a dynamic and complex blend of formal and informal commerce that impacts not just Busia County but the broader region.

However, the challenges of exploitation persist. For every traveler or trader looking to save on their shilling, there are moneychangers ready to take advantage of their unfamiliarity. One of the most common tricks is convincing mostly newcomers that Kenyan currency is not accepted in Uganda, a ploy designed to manipulate exchange rates for profit.

The pitch is straightforward but effective: “Ugandan authorities don’t allow Kenyan shillings. You’ll be arrested if you try to cross without exchanging your money” This is the opening salvo from moneychangers, preying on travelers' fear, confusion, and ignorance, as my source explained while taking me around on his motorbike through the chaotic bus terminal and pathways to the Kenya-Uganda border.  He guided me through several rounds of the border, pausing to point out live scamming incidents happening in plain sight. We refrained from filming or taking photos, following security officers' warnings about the ruthlessness of those involved.

“They create a sense of panic,” my source added. “Once you’re nervous, you’re more likely to make hasty decisions.”

“They told me I would be arrested if I crossed with Kenyan shillings,” said Anastacia Achieng, a first-time trader. Panicked, she handed over her five thousand shillings she had saved to buy assorted kids' clothing in Uganda to sell back in Kenya during last year's (2024) festive season—to a man who promised to help. “He gave me what looked like real Ugandan shillings,” she said. “By the time I realized it was fake, he was gone.”

This is just one of many such stories. For years, moneychangers have preyed on traders and travelers alike, using fear, misinformation, and outright theft to line their pockets.  These swindlers have turned chaos into their weapon, and confusion into their ally.

Traders hurrying to buy cheaper goods across the border, and housemaids returning to Uganda after long months of working for families in Kenya, are especially vulnerable.  Not just traders and housemaids fall victim. Tourists, students, and even locals crossing for personal errands have been swindled with near impunity.

The tactics are as varied as they are ruthless. These schemes range from subtle tricks to outright theft—offering less money than agreed, handing over counterfeit currency, or vanishing with the victim’s entire cash. Some rely on sleight of hand; palming bills during the exchange. Others distract their victims with rapid calculations, creating confusion. Then there is the menace of counterfeit currency, which leaves victims stranded and humiliated. One of the most chilling tactics involves intimidation.

In several reported cases, moneychangers have surrounded their victims, creating a physical barrier that makes escape impossible. “They use fear to control the situation,” my source who is a medical doctor and who has seen scammers in action countless times told me as we drove around. “Once you’re scared, they have the upper hand.”

To understand the depths of this racket, I decided to pose as an unsuspecting traveler. Ignoring the persistent calls from other moneychangers at the bus terminal and along the walkways, I headed to an M-Pesa-like shop that my source had pointed me to during our rounds as one of the hotspots for conning travelers and traders.

As I approached the shop, two well-built men sprang from their wooden bench, moving swiftly to usher me into the shop. “Do you need to exchange money?” one asked, his voice friendly yet insistent. The shop was dimly lit, with no visible M-Pesa tellers. In a shadowy corner behind the counter, a woman in a hijab sat quietly.

“How much are you exchanging?” one of the men, who introduced himself as John, asked. I inquired about the rates, and John eagerly quoted 31 Ugandan shillings for one Kenyan shilling—far higher than the official bank rate of 27.6 on that day. Most other moneychangers had quoted between 28 and 29.2, but John’s offer was too good to resist.

I handed him 2,000 Kenyan shillings, expecting to receive 62,000 Ugandan shillings. Instead, John walked behind the counter and returned with a bundle containing four 10,000 Ugandan shilling notes, one 5,000 shilling note, and three 1,000-shilling notes, totaling 48,000 Ush. Pretending not to notice, I took two-three steps, before stopping to re-confirm the amount.

The moment I turned back, less than a minute later, to question the shortfall, the atmosphere changed abruptly.  “You were given all your money,” John barked, his tone cold and defensive. His accomplice, now standing uncomfortably close, added, “Maybe you did not hear our rates well. Go away!” Outnumbered and wary of escalating the situation, I left, shaken but determined to document more of these schemes.

Within an hour of lingering at the border post, I encountered over a dozen similar stories. One student, visibly distraught, recounted how he had exchanged 3,000 Kenyan shillings for only 38,000 Ugandan shillings—far below what he expected. Another trader, Kipkorir Bett from Kericho, who was returning to Uganda for a second time to buy new wares for his shop, described being handed a mix of real and counterfeit currency.

The fake notes were neatly inserted between genuine 10,000 Ugandan shilling bills in exchange for his 25,000 Kenyan shillings, totaling 700,000 Ugandan shillings. He lost nearly 21,000 Kenyan shillings due to the counterfeit currency.  "By the time I realized it was fake, I was already in Uganda," he said. "I could not buy anything, and I had no more money to exchange."

Then there were the stories of outright theft. One victim, a man traveling to visit family in Uganda, had his suitcase snatched by two men posing as boda boda riders. They offered to help him exchange 10,000 Kenyan shillings at a better rate and promised to get him through the immigration checks quickly since it was nearing Christmas with its heavy holiday traffic to and from Uganda at its peak. In the confusion, he handed one rider his suitcases and the other the money to exchange.

However, instead of the expected amount, he received 125,000 Ugandan shillings instead of 280,000 —far less than what he was promised.  Meanwhile, the other boda boda rider, with his suitcase, began to drive away, creating a distraction and making it hard for the traveler to focus on both the money exchange and his luggage. When he eventually realized he was being conned and raised an alarm, the men immediately threatened him. “They told me to leave or I would lose everything,” he said.

The racket is a deeply entrenched web of organized crime, involving money laundering schemes and smuggling of goods including cigarettes, sugar, wheat, and electronics, all sustained by fear and impunity. Boda boda riders are reportedly in cahoots with the cartels, facilitating swift rides, persuading travelers and traders to exchange money or how to evade security checks, and transporting illegal goods between the two countries, our sources revealed.

Local journalists admit they are too afraid to report on it, knowing all too well that moneychangers, smugglers, and some rogue police officers are closely connected. Speaking out or exposing such illegal activities invites threats to personal safety and families, with retribution carried out with impunity. "The cartels are ruthless, willing to silence anyone, even through murder, to protect their operations," one journalist said.

Multiple sources within both security agencies and traders familiar with the scamming business said the racket thrives because powerful figures, including politicians and security officials, benefit from it. "It’s a well-organized crime,” said a security source who requested anonymity. “No business thrives like this money-changing syndicate, where people are conned or goods smuggled daily and no one is held accountable. It seems obvious that those involved receive protection from high places." The officer added that prosecution is almost impossible, as the absence of documented transactions leaves cases without the evidence needed to stand in court.

This unchecked criminal enterprise thrives in plain sight, demanding urgent intervention. Busia Burumba Ward Member of County Assembly, Tony Onyango, stated that while there are regulations on who should operate forex bureaus, as required by the national government, individuals running money-changing businesses are not legitimate businesspeople as they lack licenses. “These are criminals, and the police are fully aware. Whenever those responsible are arrested, they’re quickly released, only to return the next day and con more people,” Mr. Onyango said in a phone interview. “They’re well-known cartels, but security agencies hesitate to tackle the issue because they benefit from it.”

In February 2024, three police officers— Officer Commanding Busia Station (OCS) James Wairia, his assistant Willy Kibelio, and Corporal Douglas Rono—along with businessman Paul Wanjala Ogongo, were charged in a Busia court for defrauding two German nationals of Ksh2.6 million. The businessman allegedly helped the officers swindle the couple, who wanted to exchange their money on February 25, 2024. The incident was captured by CCTV at the Rasto Park Hotel parking lot in Busia town. The OCS, Wairia, was allegedly transferred to Malindi, where he continues to serve in the same capacity.

While Kenyan authorities claim to have no recorded cases involving money swindling or laundering, security sources from both sides claim that over 100 incidents occur daily, with the actual number likely much higher. Many victims, especially those who lose smaller amounts or use illegal routes between the two countries, choose not to report. “People feel embarrassed,” admitted a Kenyan official. Others, fearing arrest for crossing the border without proper documentation, remain silent, which not only makes it difficult to quantify the number of cases but also fuels the growth of this illegal business.

Ugandan officials, too, acknowledge the problem but claim it is difficult to police. The border’s chaotic nature, combined with the sheer volume of travelers, makes enforcement challenging. While the scammers operate on both sides of the border, they are more rampant on the Kenyan side, according to official sources. Border post multi-security agencies have discussed this situation in several security meetings, yet little has been done, especially on the Kenyan side, where most cases are reported, our source said.

Security officials from both sides urge travelers to remain vigilant and exchange money only at authorized forex bureaus, banks, or with registered moneychangers, who are easily identifiable by their yellow or green long coats within the border post. Travelers are also encouraged to seek assistance from marked police officers to avoid falling victim to swindles. Both Busia Officer Commanding Police Division (OCPD) Consaga Mwazighe and Sub County Criminal Investigations Officer (SCCIO) Simon Chege stated that no cases of swindling had been reported at the Busia police station. "We have not received any reports from individuals or the public regarding anyone who has been swindled," Mwazighe said during our phone interview. "If there are individuals who have been conned, they should report to the station so that our officers can investigate the matter."