When Joshua Nkrumah boarded a flight to Moscow in July 2024, his family believed he was leaving to take up a well-paid civilian job. The offer was precise and persuasive: a monthly salary of 195,000 rubles (about $2,480), accommodation and paperwork arranged on arrival.
Within weeks, 35-year-old Nkrumah was on the front line in Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhia region, wearing a Russian uniform. He is now the only known Ghanaian prisoner of war held by Ukrainian forces.
Nkrumah’s journey is not an isolated tragedy. It is part of a widening pattern in which young Africans, including Ghanaians, are being recruited – often deceptively – into Russia’s war economy, as fighters, auxiliary labour or industrial workers supporting the military effort. Ghana’s case offers a sharply defined window into how the system works, who it targets and where policy gaps remain.
A trail of promises
Interviews and investigations by Ghanaian and international media show a common entry point: economic vulnerability. Recruiters advertise “security”, “factory” or “logistics” jobs in Russia through informal agents, social media groups, messaging apps and, in some cases, personal networks in West Africa and Eastern Europe. Contracts are rarely shared in advance and are mostly written in Russian language. Travel costs are sometimes covered, creating a debt-bondage dynamic.
In January 2025, at least 14 Ghanaian men told journalists they had been misled into joining the Russian army after travelling for work opportunities. Several said they were threatened with detention or deportation if they refused to sign enlistment papers. Similar testimonies have emerged across the continent, from Nigeria to Kenya and South Africa.
Research by the Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime (GI-TOC) has documented how African migrants – men and women – have been funneled into Russia’s war-linked industries, including drone manufacturing, under false pretences of civilian employment. The study found overlapping recruitment channels between industrial labour and military enlistment, blurring the line between “work” and combat support.
Ghana’s human cost
For families in Ghana, the consequences are immediate and deeply personal. Albert Nkrumah, Joshua’s father, tells us the last time he heard his son’s voice was months ago, via a brief message relayed through intermediaries.
“Every day I wake up hoping to hear that Joshua is coming home,” he said. “We raised him to work hard, not to fight someone else’s war. All I want is for Ghana’s efforts to succeed so my son can return alive.”
Another family member – an aunt of a Ghanaian man who travelled to Russia in mid-2024 and has not been heard from in six months – described the uncertainty as unbearable.
“We don’t know if he is dead or alive,” she tells us, asking that her identity be withheld. “There is no body, no call, nothing. We only know he went looking for work. Since then, silence.”
Such accounts mirror reporting by The Africa Report, which confirmed Joshua Nkrumah’s capture and highlighted how salary promises and opaque contracts were central to his recruitment.
Official timelines and diplomacy
On January 3, 2026, Ghana’s Foreign Minister, Samuel Okudzeto Ablakwa, publicly confirmed that Accra had begun diplomatic negotiations with Kyiv to secure the release of a Ghanaian national captured while fighting for Russia. In a detailed social media post, Ablakwa outlined Ukrainian evidence showing the Ghanaian arrived in Moscow on July 7, 2024, signed a contract with a Russian assault unit and took part in hostilities in Zaporizhzhia.
Ablakwa said Ghana had objected to the detainee being included in a prisoner exchange, arguing that this could worsen his vulnerability, and appealed directly to Ghanaian youth to avoid “criminal recruitment and human trafficking networks operating clandestinely and often through the dark web”.
Ukraine’s foreign minister, Andrii Sybiha, responded on January 7, reiterating an invitation for Ablakwa to visit Kyiv in February 2026 and pledging consular access in line with international humanitarian law. Ukrainian officials have characterised captured Africans as “mercenaries”, a designation that complicates diplomatic and legal pathways for their release.
A continental pattern
Ghana’s experience fits a broader African trend. In Kenya, police raids uncovered attempts to recruit at least 20 young people for Russia under false pretences, prompting Nairobi to secure assurances that its embassy in Moscow would be notified of any Kenyan nationals fighting involuntarily. Kenyan media have reported on recruiters using WhatsApp groups and intermediaries posing as travel agents.
In South Africa, authorities warned in late 2025 that influencers – particularly women – had been misled into promoting viral Russian job offers that did not exist, some linked to defence-adjacent industries. Nigeria, meanwhile, has seen cases of nationals captured in Ukraine who claimed they were forced to join the Russian military after being arrested or deceived while in Russia.
The connective tissue across these cases is method rather than nationality: informal brokers, incomplete contracts, economic desperation and limited oversight once migrants cross borders.
Who recruits, and how?
Evidence suggests a layered system. At the base are local intermediaries – sometimes acquaintances – who connect job-seekers to overseas “opportunities”. Above them sit recruiters in Russia or neighbouring states who arrange visas, accommodation and contracts. Digital platforms amplify reach, while the opacity of Russia’s labour and military contracting system allows rapid conversion from civilian work to combat roles.
There is little public evidence that African governments have identified or prosecuted recruiters operating transnationally. Legal jurisdiction, weak labour-export regulation and the sensitive geopolitics of Russia’s war all complicate accountability.
Policy gaps and safeguards
Ghana’s response has combined caution with diplomacy. Initially, officials said claims of Ghanaians fighting in Ukraine were difficult to verify. More recently, the foreign ministry has taken a more assertive stance, engaging Kyiv directly and issuing public warnings. What remains less clear is how Ghana – and other African states – monitor outbound labour recruitment, regulate informal agents or coordinate intelligence on trafficking-linked networks.
Experts note that existing safeguards are fragmented. Labour migration frameworks often focus on the Gulf or Europe, not conflict-adjacent destinations. Digital recruitment channels remain largely unregulated. Consular capacity is stretched when nationals are detained in war zones under contested legal status.
Understanding how it happens
For young Ghanaians facing unemployment and rising living costs, the logic of leaving is understandable. The tragedy lies in how hope is weaponized – turned into contracts signed under pressure, uniforms donned without consent and families left waiting for news.
Joshua Nkrumah’s case has forced Ghana into an uncomfortable conversation about responsibility, verification and prevention. It also underscores a wider reality: Africa’s youth are increasingly being drawn into global conflicts not through ideology, but through economics.
As diplomatic talks continue, the unanswered question is whether governments can move fast enough to close the gaps recruiters exploit – or whether more families will learn, too late, that a promised job was actually a doorway into war.
“I am hoping we succeed,” Ghana’s foreign minister Ablakwa tells us in an interview.
By Kent Mensah
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect The Chronicle’s stance.
The post From Promises To Peril: How Ghanaian Youth Were Drawn Into Russia’s War Economy appeared first on The Ghanaian Chronicle.
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