Nairobi – When Nosizi Dube received her university acceptance letter, she cried. It was a moment she had dreamed of an opportunity to study economics at the University of Nairobi. But almost immediately, doubt crept in.
She had no birth certificate. No identity card.
And in Kenya, without those documents, there is no official pathway to university or most other opportunities.
“I had no idea how I would get in,” she said quietly, recalling that day four years ago. “It felt like the door was opening, but I couldn’t walk through it.”
Nosizi is part of Kenya’s Shona community a group that, until recently, lived in limbo. Though their roots in Kenya stretch back more than half a century, the Shona were not recognised as citizens. Without papers, they couldn’t register births, access public schools, apply for jobs, or travel freely.
For Nosizi, being stateless meant watching her future slip just out of reach.
A Degree Against the Odds
But Nosizi held on. Backed by a growing movement to end statelessness, she found support from the UN refugee agency, UNHCR, and its partners. In 2020, after intense advocacy, the university agreed to admit her despite her undocumented status.
Her fight for education unfolded against a backdrop of change. In 2021, the Kenyan government granted citizenship to 1,659 Shona people, officially ending their statelessness. It was a landmark step years in the making and one that changed Nosizi’s life.
Earlier this year, at 24, she walked across the graduation stage, head held high, dressed in a black gown and cap. Her name was called. The applause was loud.
“Today is a very special day,” she said afterwards, smiling. “It’s not just about a degree. It’s about finally being seen.”
From Shadows to Citizenship
For decades, the Shona were caught in a bureaucratic dead zone. Originally from Zimbabwe, their ancestors were Christian missionaries who settled in Kenya in the 1960s. But when Kenya gained independence in 1963, the Shona were left off the official list of recognised communities.
That oversight had long-lasting consequences. Without legal identity, generations of Shona children were born into statelessness.
“It’s a situation that marginalizes people and denies them basic rights,” Nosizi said. “Statelessness is a human rights issue and human rights can’t be postponed.”
Her story is one of many that have come to light under #IBelong, a global campaign launched by UNHCR in 2014 to end statelessness. Since then, hundreds of thousands of people around the world have found a path to nationality.
Countries including Kyrgyzstan and Turkmenistan have resolved their known stateless populations. In Africa, progress is being made in Kenya, Sierra Leone, Liberia and Madagascar.
“Since the Kenyan government recognised the Shona as citizens, a lot of doors have opened,” said Samwel Okute, UNHCR’s Senior Protection Associate for Statelessness, based in Nairobi. “Documentation changes lives it gives people access to education, jobs, healthcare, and dignity.”
Looking Ahead, Giving Back
Now armed with a degree, Nosizi has new goals. She hopes to earn a scholarship to pursue a master’s and wants to focus on improving economic opportunities for stateless and marginalised communities.
“In the last four years, I’ve experienced what it means to live up to your full potential,” she said. “My graduation isn’t just mine. It’s a door opening for my whole family.”
Her younger siblings now have identity documents. They go to school without fear of being turned away. Her achievement, she says, gives them a reason to believe in more.
UNHCR is now turning its focus to a new initiative the Global Alliance to End Statelessness, which brings governments, civil society, and international groups together to continue the work of #IBelong.
The hope is to reach the millions who remain without citizenship across the world.
For Nosizi, the fight is far from over. “There are still communities out there without papers, without rights,” she said. “We need to make sure no one is invisible.”
She speaks with the quiet conviction of someone who has lived both sides of the line invisible one day, celebrated the next.
“Completing a degree is my biggest achievement,” she said. “It’s not just huge for me. It’s huge for others like me. It proves that no matter the barriers, anything is possible.”
