Kenyans Are Losing US Visas Over What They Post Online

The United States has expanded its social media screening, and Kenyans are on the list. Fifty-two Kenyans are among those facing visa revocations over their online activity — not for crimes, but for posts. If you are applying for a US visa, renewing one, or planning to, your Facebook, Instagram and X accounts are now part of your application.

Here is what actually happens. The online visa form everyone fills before the interview — the DS-160 — asks you to list your social media accounts. Every handle you have used in the last five years, plus your email addresses and phone numbers from that window. Answering honestly is not optional. A questionable post can get you refused; a lie on that form can bar you from the United States for life. So the rule is simple: list everything, then spend two hours making sure your public pages tell the same story your form tells.

What the form asks for is your usernames, never your passwords. American officials will not ask for a password — anyone who does, whether a self-styled agent in Nairobi or a "visa consultant" sliding into your DMs, is running a scam. Walk away. A private account is legal and fine, but you still list the handle. And privacy has edges: posts you are tagged in on other people's public pages, comments you left on public pages, screenshots somebody took. Deleting a post removes it from your wall; it does not remove it from the internet. Deleting is fine, even smart, for posts that misrepresent you. It is not a strategy. Consistency is the strategy.

Consistency in practice: if you apply for a visitor visa and your pinned post says "Dallas bound for good, kazi tu," that is immigrant intent written in your own hand — enough, on its own, to be refused. If you apply for a student visa while your public profile advertises "green card help, DM me," you have attached fraud to your own name. And it does not need to be scandal. Your LinkedIn says software engineer at a Nairobi firm since 2021; your form says unemployed since 2023. Small mismatch — but mismatches become questions you answer standing at the window with a queue behind you.

So do the audit. One Saturday, about two hours, phone and laptop:

One — write down every handle, email and phone number from the last five years, including dead accounts you can still log into. Two — view each profile the way a stranger sees it; Facebook has a "view as" tool, and for everything else, log out or borrow a friend's phone. Three — read your bio and your last twenty posts and ask one question: would a person reading only this page describe my life the way my form does? Four — open "photos of you" and tags, and untag anything that misrepresents you. Five — fix the bios; "relocating to Texas soon" while applying as a tourist does you no favors. Six — delete or set private whatever does not serve the truth, then list every handle on the form anyway. Seven — Google your name plus your city, and your handle. Whatever is on page one is your first impression; make sure you know what it says.

Do all this before you pay the visa fee, not the night before the interview. The person who fills out the form should be the same person your pages describe, from day one.

And be careful with jokes, because context does not travel. When my wife was grinding through her American pharmacy licensing, she used to threaten to quit and drive Uber — funny in our kitchen at hour three of pharmacology, less funny as the first thing a stranger sees on a public profile. Sheng especially does not translate inside an office building on the day of your interview. If a joke needs its full backstory to be safe, archive it.

My baba has never posted anything in his life. He walks to the shamba every morning and his opinions stay in his head; his audit would take five minutes. The rest of us need the Saturday. List everything, clean what is public, and make your pages agree with your paperwork — then walk into that interview like someone with nothing to hide, because by then you won't be.