Model Casting in a Refugee Camp in Kenya, Africa

Thousands of young women from South Sudan live in the Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya, as the German publication „Der Spiegel“ reports. In the European fashion industry, in Paris and London, their type is currently in demand. But who benefits from this?

The road to a model centre like Paris leads through the mud. It has just rained cats and dogs and the budding supermodels have to cross deep puddles. Most of them are wearing flip-flops.

At the Ato Rites Resort, on the main road between the Kakuma 1 and Kakuma 4 refugee camps in Kenya, their future is to be decided today. The well-known modeling agency „Isis“ has invited them to a casting to pick out candidates for „Africa's Next Super Model“. A great career on the catwalks in Paris, London and Milan beckons is waiting for some of them. Perhaps.

Around 200.000 people live now in the refugee camp. Some families who had to flee the war in their home country of South Sudan have been here for more than 20 years. There are not many ways out of the camp: The offers from the talent scouts therefore sound tempting to the young people, like a great opportunity. Modeling courses take place in the camp almost every day. Critics say that the agencies exploit the models' poverty and profit from their plight.

The catwalk in Kakuma is quickly marked with white tape. The aspiring models are told to do their rounds in an unadorned conference room, the air is stuffy, flies buzz through the air. At least French chansons are playing, here in the semi-desert of northern Kenya.

The candidates are waiting outside. „I'm very excited“, says Naima Hassan. She is one of the few women wearing high-heeled shoes to conceal her short stature. Most of the people around her are at least 1,80 meters tall, very slim, have short hair and dark skin. The typical appearance of South Sudanese women is currently in demand on the world's catwalks.

Hassan stands out. She comes from Ethiopia, has lighter skin and wears a headscarf. „Today might be my last attempt“, she says, „it has to work“. The 18-year-old has already taken part in countless auditions and beauty contests. It has never been enough for the top places. „But it's my dream.“

Elisabeth Nyarach and her brother John Theen have also come. He, almost two meters tall, soft voice, still hopes for a modeling career, despite many setbacks. She, the big sister, is not taking part in the casting. She just wants to support her brother.

The show starts inside. The presenter takes the microphone and introduces herself as Letoya Johnstone. Letoya is the best-known trans activist in Kenya, she wears a short black skirt, a promotional T-shirt from the modeling agency and her hair is plaited into braids. „Hellooooooo darlings“, she says in a purring voice, probably trying to bring some glamor into this unadorned room.

But before the casting begins, Letoya wants to get something off her chest. She talks for almost half an hour about the criticism of the model agency, repeatedly emphasizing how much she cares about the fate of the young women. After all, „Isis Models“ is under pressure: In October 2023, the British newspaper „Sunday Times“ has published an investigation, in which former models complained about the practices of the company and its European partner agency.

The payment had been inappropriate and models had been sent back to Kenya in the event of failure or other problems. There, the agency had presented them with an invoice for the debts incurred through travel costs, passport fees, accommodation and other expenses. It was just a formality, the money had never been collected, those responsible defended themselves. But since then, the industry has been fighting against the damage to its image.

Letoya attacks the critics, insinuating that they are ungrateful, only wanted to apply for asylum and were telling lies. The assembled candidates in Kakuma nod obediently. After all, they want to get to Paris, out of the refugee camp. One of the women drops a hand mirror and breaks it. Letoya says: „Don't cut yourself, you're expensive now.“

Finally, the actual casting begins. Naima Hassan is the first to walk in, she smiles. She stops on the tape and says her name. When she states her height, a slight murmur goes through the room. Is the dream of a modeling career shattered before it has even really begun? Hassan's smile now looks tortured.

Then the twenty other candidates walk down the catwalk one after the other, most of them wearing T-shirts or soccer shirts. Every now and then, a model agency employee rushes over with a tape measure and measures the prospective mannequins as if they were at a cattle market.

After about two hours, the casting is over. The models are sent outside to wait for the results. Hassan is getting more and more nervous. Then Letoya comes to them, reads out the names of the successful models and tells them to line up against the wall. Hassan's name is not included.

Perhaps the most decisive scenes take place in the background, on a cell phone screen. Jay Plus, whose real name is Chol Bior, walks around with his phone and films the men and women at close range, right in their faces. He is one of the talent scouts from „Isis Models“ in Kakuma. „Stand still“, he shouts, or: „Turn around!“

Connected to him by video call from the USA is the founder and owner of the modeling agency, Nigerian Joan Okorodudu. Sometimes she shouts „Wow!“ or „That one!“ Jay Plus then writes down the name and phone number of the person being filmed.

Jay Plus walks past Elisabeth Nyarach, then suddenly stops and films her face too. The boss is thrilled and wants her on board immediately. The South Sudanese woman looks a little confused, after all she was only here for her brother, then she gives out her cell phone number. That's how it goes in the modeling business: Success can come suddenly and unexpectedly, as can the fall from grace.

In mid-January, we met Joan Okorodudu, the boss of the Isis agency, in Nairobi, in a restaurant next to the modeling agency's office. She ate chicken with her hands and, between bites, was outraged by the journalists who allegedly wanted to ruin her reputation. A conspiracy, an intrigue. Okorodudu speaks impulsively, her voice gets very loud when she doesn't like something.

She prefers to talk about her own career: „I used to be super pretty“, she says, a beauty queen and competitive athlete. Now she is wealthy, has fancy apartments and houses in Nigeria, London, Nairobi, South Africa and the USA. She invests a lot of money in her „girls“ and takes care of them.

She talks about how she accommodates the models in shared accommodation so that they can support each other. Sometimes it sounds as if she is running a charity organization and not a model agency with business interests at heart.

Sitting next to her is Chol Khan, the latest hopeful in her portfolio. She also comes from the Kakuma refugee camp and is South Sudanese. Khan won the last season of „Africa's Next Super Model“, now she is here in the capital Nairobi, has received her passport, tomorrow her flight leaves for London. Okorodudu and Khan have just been shopping – a suitcase, clothes, toiletries, everything you need for Europe. They filmed the shopping trip for social media.

The 19-year-old model aspirant chews her food hesitantly, she barely speaks. Khan speaks very little English. „I don't know what to expect in Europe“, she finally reveals. She has hardly left her refugee camp so far. Even Nairobi is a different world for her now.

In Kakuma, the audition is over and the next day has begun. Talent scout Jay Plus makes his rounds through the camp on the motorcycle cab, driving through deep puddles, it has rained heavily again during the night, his feet get wet as he drives. Then he suddenly stops and jumps off the bike. He has spotted another potential candidate, just like that on the road, „she's a 100, those cheekbones, that look!“ he exclaims.

Jay Plus runs a photo studio, everyone here knows it. The walls are covered with Chanel logos in the background. In front of the counter is a poster with photos of successful models. „Jayplus, Manager“ is written at the top. „The potential here is huge, we're only at the very beginning“, he says. In his opinion, the biggest problem is the cultural hurdles in the camp. Many families are very conservative, for them modeling is the path to prostitution, or even worse: to homosexuality.

Elisabeth Nyarach and her brother John Theen are also concerned about this: „What if they force me to become gay?“, he asks. The siblings are sitting on a bed in their mud hut that morning, with several mattresses leaning against the wall. Ten of them share the room, six siblings and their mother, there is no furniture apart from the bed.

„We have nothing to do here“, says Elisabeth, „there are no jobs, no income, nothing“. The family lives on food rations from the World Food Program, but these have just been cut again. The 19-year-old had started an apprenticeship in Nairobi in the meantime, but then she had a bicycle accident, suffered head injuries and had to return to Kakuma.

The world of fashion is completely foreign to her. „I'm a tomboy“, she laughs, a girl who looks more like a boy. She prefers to wear soccer shirts. She has never worn make-up, her facial features contort at the thought. The only jewelry on her body is a necklace made of colorful beads, „a traditional lucky charm“, she explains.

Now she believes God has prepared a way out of the camp for her. „I want to provide for my family, give them a better life. And if working as a model makes that possible, then I'm in.“

Her brother is now much more skeptical. He has already fallen for scams twice, he says. Once he was approached by a talent scout in Kakuma while playing soccer. He was referred to an international agency, stood at the bus stop with his suitcases packed, on his way to Europe. But suddenly the money was gone, someone had probably embezzled it. The trip came to nothing. „I'm very careful now“, he explains.

There are even worse stories than his in Kakuma: Of people posing as agency employees, having bikini pictures taken, luring women to Nairobi, where they then disappear without a trace.

But even those who actually make it to Europe often return disappointed. Even the last winner of „Africa's Next Super Model“ now has her doubts. Chol Khan sits in the agency's office in Nairobi. Her hair is now dyed blonde and her English is much better. She has returned from London to extend her visa, as there were problems with this locally. What she tells us from Europe doesn't sound very glamorous. The six of them shared an apartment, they were called to castings from time to time, and if they were successful, they were paid for a photo shoot or a fashion show. However, the income from the appearances went directly to the agency and the women only received pocket money at the beginning.

This amounted to the equivalent of 116 euros per week, plus, in Chol Khan's case, a total of 4.600 euros in prize money for winning the title of „Africa's Next Super Model“. The model sent half of this to Kakuma, to her family, as is expected. She used the rest to buy toiletries or pay for Uber cabs to travel to the castings. „There was nothing left to live on“, she says. It can't stay like this.

The first training session for the siblings and the other chosen ones begins at the camp in the afternoon. They sit on plastic chairs outside the youth center. John Theen is absorbed in his cell phone. Nyarach flops down in her chair. Jay Plus calls out: „Your turn, quick!“ She jumps up and stands on the imaginary catwalk under the trees. The trainer shows her the basic position, left foot straight, right foot turned slightly outwards. Then the 19-year-old starts running, her face strained, her tongue over her lips. „Oh God, she's a complete beginner!“ laughs Jay Plus. In four to five months, the young women and men have to be ready, then they are supposed to travel to Europe.

So he explains the most important rules again: „Be ready, anytime!“ he shouts. „If you're shy, stop being shy now! And bring high heels!“