
When tax agents at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA) opened what looked like a routine parcel from Germany, they expected to find shirts, not a stash. Instead, they stumbled on what has become the new face of Kenya’s global drug trade: cleverly disguised narcotics shipped through courier services that are none the wiser.
The slightly torn package, supposedly a clothing delivery via KeBay Shipping Ltd, revealed more than fabric. A suspicious glimpse of green caught a KRA officer’s eye, and before long, WhatsApp messages, police alerts, and a sudden phone blackout from the would be recipient in Kahawa West followed. By the time detectives arrived, the apartment was empty and the suspect, a Nigerian national believed to be coordinating multiple shipments, had vanished.
Fast forward three months, and déjà vu struck. Another parcel, this time from New York, slid through the cracks, until KeBay’s owner, British national Louis Kabbani, noticed something odd. The same name. The same address. The same too good to be true customer. When he opened the package in the presence of police, the “food items” turned out to be a cocktail of cocaine, marijuana, LSD, and even drug laced chewing gum and juice.
Kabbani insists he’s the good guy in this saga, and to his credit, he’s the one who blew the whistle. But his firm, like others before it, has become an unwitting accomplice in a cat and mouse game between traffickers and law enforcement.
Kenya’s antinarcotics officers say it’s a growing problem: drug traffickers are using courier companies, schoolchildren, and even fuel tankers to outsmart border control. While DHL and bus firms like Buscar have previously been caught in similar snares, the methods are only getting bolder and smarter.
At least five individuals are currently serving prison terms for trying to sneak drugs through courier services, according to National Council for Law Reporting records. The drugs vary from heroin to cocaine, marijuana and methamphetamine, but the script remains the same: declare it as something harmless, hope it slips past Caesar’s taxmen, and pray nobody pokes the wrong package.
Globally, reports by the Global Initiative against Transnational Organised Crime (GITOC) paint a grim picture: East and Southern Africa are now major transit routes for cartels shipping narcotics from Latin America and Asia. Weak border controls, corruption, and underfunded enforcement are the perfect recipe for an illicit trade that’s both lucrative and hard to trace.
Back home, police spokesperson Muchiri Nyaga admits traffickers are getting creative. From hiding bhang in fuel tankers to using children as couriers in informal settlements, Kenya’s drug war is being fought on shifting sands.
But this isn’t just a criminal story, it’s a legal one too. Courier firms now find themselves in the uncomfortable spotlight of vicarious liability and due diligence. What happens when your business becomes an unknowing channel for crime? How far must logistics companies go to verify the legality of what they carry?
For now, KeBay walks free, but the question lingers: how many more “innocent packages” are passing through customs unnoticed? After all, in the high stakes world of global shipping, not every “parcel from abroad” is a gift. Sometimes, it’s a ticking time bomb in bubble wrap.
