Abstract
This article examines Somali WhatsApp groups as socio-technical gathering spaces used for emergency assistance during crises. Drawing on multi-sited fieldwork in Nairobi and Mogadishu, and a case study of a WhatsApp group mobilising drought relief in 2022, we explore how platform usage is shaped by social norms, care practices and kinship structures to enable mobilisation, coordination, and distribution of aid. Inspired by scholarship on communicative affordances, we conceptualise WhatsApp kinship groups as closed but scalable online spaces, highlighting assembly and coordination in a context where disasters and emergencies are recurrent. We argue that these groups extend long-standing Somali mutual support systems into digital space, intensifying practices of connectivity and emergency response, while reflecting and potentially reproducing social hierarchies. By analysing Somali WhatsApp usage as situated socio-technical practices, the article contributes to broader debates on digital and diaspora humanitarianism, vernacular giving, and crisis response.
Introduction
Giving holds profound cultural significance in Somali society, representing social responsibility and practices of care in times of need. Revolving around a segmented clan structure and extended kinship networks, Somalis inside Somalia and across the large Somali diaspora draw upon shared expectations and moral repertoires of helping community members, with diaspora-based contributions playing a significant role (Carruth, 2018; Musa and Kleist, 2022). As Somalia has been widely affected by poverty, conflict and recurrent drought and floods for years, such support mitigates crisis mitigation and enhances survival (cf. Ahmed et al., 2026; Edle et al., 2026; Hammond et al., 2011; Kleist et al., 2025). Yet, it also (re)produces exclusions and hierarchies, particularly in the face of resource scarcity.
Over the years, the organisation of mutual support systems has moved from gathering spaces in the shadow of a tree, to the echoing halls of conferences, and now to the digital realms of social media, such as WhatsApp and Facebook. These platforms provide an online gathering space for social networks, both in Somalia and the diaspora, blending traditional giving practices with modern digital tools to address community challenges. They operate alongside – or in collaboration with – informal networks, businesses, civil society organisations, and community and religious actors, although direct collaboration with the international humanitarian system remains rare.
Despite widespread social media usage, studies on its role in Somali emergency assistance are still nascent. Norman highlights how social media can sustain transnational social ties across distance (2022), as well as alter the political order (2024), accentuating the transformative power of Somali social media usage (cf. Chonka, 2019). Other Somali studies emphasise the importance of social media for knowledge sharing, resource mobilisation and coordination but also the risks of misinformation, reproduction of inequalities and fleeting attention (Chonka and Bakonyi, 2021; Cooley and Jones, 2013).
Similar ambivalence can be found in studies on social media usage during emergencies in other contexts (e.g., Lough, 2022; Sutton et al., 2014). The effective use of social media to address crises faces challenges, not least in settings affected by poor internet access and low digital literacy (Hossain et al., 2016; Mavrodieva and Shaw, 2021; Oyeyemi et al., 2014). The internet penetration rate in Somalia was estimated to be 55% of the population by the end of 2025, with an estimated 27.6 percent active social media users (DataReportal, 2025). Although social media platforms are becoming more important in mobilising and coordinating emergency assistance, their relatively limited reach among the population indicates the need for attention to how social practices, inequality and contextual factors shape engagement in times of emergency.
This study zooms in on these dynamics, investigating how Somali kinship groups in Nairobi and Mogadishu use WhatsApp groups to mobilise, coordinate and distribute drought relief assistance in Somalia. We explore practices of group communication and connectivity, including group creation, membership criteria, structure and leadership, focusing on how these practices played out during a severe drought in Somalia in 2022. WhatsApp constitutes a rapidly growing social media platform with almost three billion users in mid-2024 (Statista, 2024) and has been widely adopted in Somalia and the Somali diaspora though no available statistics indicate the exact number of Somali users. Its features, such as encrypted communication, closed groups, and multimedia sharing enable users to maintain their privacy, engage with connections across the globe, and mobilise resources during crises. Such features are particularly useful in the Somali context, where kinship networks are often dispersed across the world.
Studying Somali drought assistance through WhatsApps groups calls for attention to both social and technical perspectives as well as their interplay (cf. Orlikowski, 2007). With inspiration from literature on communicative affordances (e.g., Costa, 2018; Schrock, 2015; Willems, 2021), we suggest the concept of socio-technical gathering spaces to capture the social dynamics of assembly, connectivity and communication – gathering – in online spaces and how and to what degree these practices are shaped, facilitated and transformed by the WhatsApp platform. We thereby refer to digitally mediated sites where social relations, moral obligations and technological features intersect to shape collective action.
The paper proceeds as follows. We start by our methodological framework, followed by a section on the context of Somali emergency responses to humanitarian crises in Somalia. The paper then examines practices and perceptions of Somali kinship WhatsApp groups for drought relief before we turn to WhatsApp groups as a socio-technical gathering space and conclude.
Methodological Framework: Studying WhatsApp Groups in Somali Drought Assistance
Studies of the relationship between the social and the technical can be divided into two overall approaches: techno-centric and human-centric perspectives, where the former focuses on “how technology leverages human action” (Orlikowski, 2007: 1436) and the latter on “how humans make sense of and interact with technology” (1437). To make sense of the interplay between these two dimensions, we draw on the concept of communicative affordances to analyse how WhatsApp's technical features such as voice notes, group limits, or forwarding functions, interact with the relational, kin-based trust networks that underpin Somali aid mobilisation.
Originally developed to theorise perception of the environment, the concept of affordances was defined as “what it [the environment] offers the animal, what it provides or furnishes, either for good or ill” (Gibson, 1979: 127, italics in origin). It thus relates to the inherent nature – or properties or technical features – of a phenomenon, be it an object, animal or natural element that shape its potential use by and interaction with specific agents, including humans (cf. Hutchby, 2001). Our usage of the term is more delimited, as we focus on the interplay between humans and technology in specific contexts. In recent years, scholars have increasingly adopted “a relational approach to understanding how people interact with technology” (Evans et al., 2017: 35), commonly referred to as technological or communicative affordances.
While affordances may seem relatively stable, as they enable – or may even invite – certain usages of the technology in question, their outcomes are not easily predicted, as they depend on how users employ the technology and in what contexts. As Costa argues, affordances “are always specific to the relation between the platform and the situated users … [and] take shape only through specific material and social practices” (2018: 3651; cf. Willems, 2021). They thus “frame, while not determining, the possibilities for agentic action” (Hutchby, 2001: 444, italics added). Relationality and contextual variation are thus key aspects to factor into the analysis (cf. Costa, 2018; Willems, 2021). Or, as Roitman and Yeshua-Katz put it, affordances shed light on the “possible and actual outcomes of the relationship between the […] technology and the user” (2022: 7). We follow this emphasis on social practices and context in our analysis, based on interviews and netnographic analysis, as we present below.
Multi-Sited and Multi-Modal Fieldwork
The study is based on data from multi-sited fieldwork (Falzon, 2009) in Nairobi and Mogadishu by the first author. The multi-sited approach allows us to explore coordination, mobilisation and distribution processes in and between these two key sites, focusing on the 2022 drought in southern Somalia. Data collection took place between July and October 2022 through 30 interviews and observation of a WhatsApp group.
The neighbourhoods of Eastleigh North and South in Nairobi and the capital of Mogadishu in Somalia were selected due to their importance in local and diaspora contexts and their close linkage through dense networks of kinship, commerce, and remittance flows. Eastleigh constitutes a key hub of the Somali diaspora's economic and social activities (Carrier, 2017) and is one of Kenya's largest Somali-majority areas. It is home to both Somali-Kenyans (Kenyan citizens of Somali origin) and Somali nationals, with a formal population estimate of 225,815 residents (KNBS, 2019). Mogadishu, the capital of the Federal State of Somalia and the country's major logistics centre, is a central location for the organising and redistributing of aid by formal and informal local networks, including civil society actors, religious leaders and community organizers.
Drawing on her personal and collective Somali networks, Fatima Dahir Mohamed – a Somali-Kenyan woman living in Nairobi – used purposive sampling to identify study participants. Participants included diaspora actors in Eastleigh who had been involved in mobilisation efforts during the 2022 drought in Somalia, as well as their counterparts in Mogadishu who participated in the mobilisation and distribution of support. Fifteen men and seven women between 30 and 60 years old were interviewed in Eastleigh and five men and three women in Mogadishu, aged between 35 and 48 years old. Participants included group administrators, committee members, treasurers, and contributors in both sites. Interviews took place in Somali, were transcribed verbatim, and subsequently coded. Selected excerpts were translated to English for quotation. All interviewees provided informed consent, and their identities have been anonymised to protect their privacy.
The article also includes a case study of drought mobilisation based on observations within one kinship WhatsApp group. The group was observed from April to October 2022, using a smartphone and laptop for real-time engagement and retrospective review. Mohamed systematically documented interactions through notes, which were later coded alongside interview data. Notes were taken both in real time and shortly after key interactions to ensure accuracy and minimise recall bias. Access was facilitated by familial connections, particularly her mother's past involvement in similar initiatives, which cultivated trust and familiarity. Group administrators were informed of the research objectives and consented to her being part of the group. Likewise, the location of the case study was removed for anonymisation purposes.
While familial connections offered a rare opportunity to observe a WhatsApp crisis group, focus on this one group may have favoured the perspectives of more connected individuals at the expense of those less integrated into such networks. This challenge was mitigated by comparing perspectives and triangulating WhatsApp data with interviews from the diverse range of participants beyond the first author's immediate networks. Hence, while the author's positionality as a Somali-Kenyan researcher who shares language, cultural and religious frames with participants contributed to building trust and access, it also necessitated analytical distance and ethical anonymisation. Efforts were therefore made to critically reflect on potential biases and assumptions, particularly in close-knit settings or when interviewing acquaintances or relatives of existing contacts.
Somali Diaspora Humanitarianism in Context
Somali diaspora contributions to emergency relief are embedded in longstanding mutual support systems for survival, family welfare, and livelihoods, where reciprocity, solidarity, and faith are key values (Hammond et al., 2011; Horst, 2006; Kleist et al., 2025; Musa and Kleist, 2022). These systems, often informal and flexible, serve as safety nets and moral obligations within kinship networks that span generations and borders and are underpinned by the Somali kinship system. A segmentary lineage society structured around patrilineal clans, children inherit their father's lineage and women keep their own lineage when marrying. Clans and kinship groups co-exist at different levels of proximity, from distant founding fathers of major families to smaller sub-clans of one's grandfather or great grandfather (e.g., Lewis, 1994; Musa, 2023). The Somali kinship system is further characterised by a clear division of labour, structured by age and gender, where men, especially elderly men, have a superior status to women and to youth (Gardner and Bushra, 2004; Warsame, 2004).
Somali families and kinship groups have long sustained social, affective and economic ties across localities in the Horn of Africa, a practice rooted in traditional mobile livelihoods such as pastoralism and trade. Displacement following the civil war that spread to the whole country in 1991, further extended and intensified Somali support systems across the globe (Horst, 2006; Musa and Kleist, 2022). In this context, diaspora humanitarianism can be seen as a continuation and transformation of traditional practices. Today the global Somali diaspora counts almost two million people (Migration Data Portal, 2024), with neighbouring North African and Gulf countries, as well as UK, Canada, and Sweden, as major settlement destinations. While Somali family and kin members support their families from inside and outside the country, fundraising, advocacy and direct assistance is especially prevalent among Somalis living in Western and Gulf countries. The motivations for such efforts are often framed in terms of religious duty (zakat, sadaqah), kinship loyalty, and a sense of collective responsibility.
The significance of such support is underscored by the recurrent crises, droughts, floods, political instability, and conflict that have shaped Somalia before, during, and after the civil war. The civil war and the 1991 government collapse displaced over two million people inside the country and led up to 1.5 million people to flee Somalia (UNDP, 2001). It also led to a deadly 1992 famine, with about 200,000 deaths (Bradbury, 2010). Agencies like the United Nations, International Committee of the Red Cross, and Medecins Sans Frontieres expanded operations in response, signalling a wave of post–Cold War “humanitarianism unbound” (Omaar and de Waal, 1994). However, this formal international aid was short-lived due to insecurity and the failed 1993 U.S. intervention, which prompted a large-scale withdrawal of international humanitarian agencies by 1994.
More recently, major droughts in 2011, 2016, and 2022 led to famine, with around 250,000 deaths in 2011 alone, especially impacting farmers and pastoralists (Maxwell and Fitzpatrick, 2012). Frequent floods, notably in the Shabelle and Juba River basins, have damaged infrastructure and forced displacement. Locust infestations in 2019 and 2020 further damaged crops, while disease outbreaks like cholera and measles spread due to weak health systems. Altogether this situation has left the Somali population with insufficient access to international humanitarian aid, a crisis that is further aggravated by insecurity linked to the conflict with the Islamist militant group Al Shabaab which restricts access for international aid organisations.
Local and diaspora-led humanitarian responses and mutual support systems for survival and support to families and livelihoods have thus been central for decades. However, the modalities of communication and connectivity have changed over the years, from radio communication and cassette tapes, expensive phone calls, to today's social media platforms (Adam, 2001; Norman, 2022) that constitute an additional layer within a longer media ecology. While radio broadcasts and phone calls remain important, particularly in rural areas, social media enables faster, more interactive, and transnational forms of engagement which operates alongside these established channels and is supported by relatively low data costs and expanding network coverage (Ahmed, 2020). As we elaborate next, these social media technologies have expanded the temporal and spatial reach of kinship obligations, affording rapid mobilisation and coordination.
Somali Kinship WhatsApp Groups – Affordances and Practices
Owned by Meta, WhatsApp is an encrypted platform used for closed bilateral communication and invitation-only groups. Access to the app requires a phone number, thus it is mainly used on smartphones though it can be used on connected devices as well, such as laptops. As a starting point for our analysis, we therefore examine the communicative affordances of mobile media more generally. According to Schrock (2015) these include portability (a mobile phone can be carried around), availability (the user is available no matter location), and multimediality (e.g., screen sharing, voice recording, image production and videos streaming).
Roitman and Yeshua-Katz (2022) further suggest the related affordances of immediacy (communication can take place immediately) and reachability (news can reach users at any given time). Finally, Norman et al. (2024: 1361) propose scalability as a key affordance of social media platforms. There are several layers to scalability. WhatsApp groups may gather members at different spatial levels, from a local neighbourhood to globally dispersed networks, and users may be members of multiple groups that can easily be scaled up. At the technical level, WhatsApp groups can now accommodate a maximum of 1024 participants, more than the previous limit of 512 members which applied from May to October 2022 or the original limit of 256 introduced in 2017.
As accentuated in the socio-centric literature on affordances, affordances do not determine outcomes, but they enable them. On the one hand, users do not necessarily employ mobile and social media in specific ways, just because they are possible. Availability and reachability, for instance, require that users have their phones turned on, have a network connection and have access to electricity to charge their phone (cf. Willems, 2021) – and that they actually check their phones. The technical limit of group size is only an issue if it is encountered – but if so, it will shape dynamics of inclusion and exclusion (cf. Norman, 2024). Analysis of actual and situated usage is thus necessary.
On the other hand, the specific features of a social media platform are necessary to take into consideration, rather than assuming similar properties – or usages – across mobile social media platforms (Costa, 2018). Open Facebook profiles, for instance, afford persistence and visibility of online content as well as ease of sharing and searchability, in contrast to WhatsApp groups where these affordances are available only to group members and only for the duration of the group's existence.
Control over content is further strengthened by the fact that WhatsApp does not suggest or highlight content, unlike open and more algorithm-driven and broadcast-based social media platforms, like X and Facebook. The control over content in WhatsApp creates less risk of context-collapse where audiences and contexts blur into each other (Baym and Boyd, 2012; Boyd, 2014; Costa, 2018). Moreover, WhatsApp affords semi-private online contexts and user selection within the parameters of groups, aligning with Somali expectations of confidentiality, accountability, and trust, as the following analysis of Somali WhatsApp group practices demonstrates.
“An Integral Part of our Life”
WhatsApp groups vary widely in their purpose and membership; kinship groups are just one variety, albeit a particularly significant one in the Somali context. Those interviewed in Mogadishu and Eastleigh consistently identified WhatsApp as the “first response space” to share news among family and kin in Somalia and the diaspora. Tellingly, all reported belonging to at least one WhatsApp group sharing family news, social obligations, or family-related requests. These groups tend to be stable and long-term. A common finding across interviews was that respondents were members of several groups, at the family, sub-clan and kinship levels, as well WhatsApp groups of other kinds.
Ali, a 38-year-old man dressed in a white thobe (a long-sleeved ankle length Arab garment for men), sits in a lively cafe in central Mogadishu, drinking sweet Somali tea. Engaging and animated, he describes how WhatsApp groups are used to share news, organise support and disseminate information. It's truly remarkable how swiftly news spreads through these [WhatsApp] groups. Even within minutes of a person's passing, the news reverberates across these digital networks, ensuring that everyone is aware. These groups have become an integral part of our lives, connecting us through various circles such as immediate family, sub-clan, and friends (Ali, 10 September, 2022). We used to rely on the occasional phone call or visit. But that's slow and expensive. Right now, I can wake up to over 30 messages on WhatsApp, anything from a photo from my cousin's wedding in Mogadishu, an update on a sick cousin in Dubai or my sister's new baby in Minnesota. It brings us closer even though we are thousands of miles apart (Amina, 8 September 2022).
As illuminated above, resource mobilisation on WhatsApp is a normal occurrence (cf. Kleist, 2018; Norman, 2024), with WhatsApp groups used as “a tool for mobilising families quickly”, as Halima, a 40-year-old businesswoman in Mogadishu explained (Halima, 17 September 2022). With Somali families often dispersed across the globe, potentially being, as Amina noted, “thousands of miles apart”, WhatsApp enables communication and connectivity across different scales or, in Ali's words, “through various circles”. The platform also affords availability, immediacy, and reachability (cf. Roitman and Yeshua-Katz, 2022) – if users are online and check their phones, that is. As Amina's quote also reflects, she does not necessarily check incoming messages during the night. This may change, however, in the case of emergencies (Ahmed et al., 2026).
Emergency Assistance Groups – “Created for the Situation”
Whereas family or kinship WhatsApp groups revolve around communication and connectivity that could range from sharing wedding photos to appeals for school fees, emergency assistance groups tend to focus on a specific urgent situation or crisis. Most of them are kinship-based, 1 drawing on pre-existing social ties and created on the go, in contrast to registered associations or other formalised entities. Again, WhatsApp tends to be the preferred platform, with only half of the interlocutors using Facebook, which they felt was less effective for urgent mobilisation.
35 years old, tall, wearing a colourful hijab with a dress, Yasmin opens her Nairobi house for the first author and offers a couch in the living room. Discussing the formation of WhatsApp groups during emergencies, she explains that these are formed based on the kinship system and are important because people get to know the situation and can coordinate help. Most of these groups did not exist before, they were created for the situation. During an emergency, a group will be created and given the name of that emergency. Some people in the groups may have never communicated before but they are brought together by the emerging issue. This is something done on the go, there is no pre-planning (Yasmin, 25 July 2022). There is no formal process, someone from your kinship adds you and with time the group will continue to grow. When more members are added, updates are shared, and it becomes a space for planning and communicating everything related to this topic or event (Zakaria, 10 September 2022).
In addition to kinship or sub-clan affiliation, interviewees highlighted commitment to the cause and their ability to provide financial assistance or other forms of support. According to Luqman, a 47-year-old pharmacist in Mogadishu, membership is very simple. “If you belong to the kinship and can help, you are invited to the group. We need everyone's help in situations of need, especially those who have connections back home.”(Luqman, 20 September 2022) Ruqiya, a 37-year-old poet in Mogadishu, also accentuates the importance of being active, however. “In an emergency, you want someone who is reliable, responds quickly and handles the situation seriously. It's not just about being a family. It is also about who will take action” (Ruqiya, 17 September 2022). While kinship or clan affiliation constitutes a threshold for inclusion, criteria for group membership ranges from an ‘all-hands-on-deck’ approach to an assessment of the personal qualities of group members. For Jamal, a group administrator, the latter is particularly pertinent.
In the late afternoon, Jamal, a 60-year-old man, tall, casual, and wearing a light brown suit sits at a corner table in a crowded Somali restaurant in Nairobi with the first author. People accord him the much-deserved respect of elders, with every elder from the different clans passing by the table to greet him. Jamal, in turn, greets back and introduces Mohamed through her paternal lineage. He explains that membership in his WhatsApp group for I have used two criteria to allow people to join this group. First, to belong to the kinship and how much someone cares about this topic and how they want to be part of this process; second, whether someone can provide financial assistance, advice, guidance or non-monetary support. In other words, those who contribute financially and those who can provide nonfinancial support, for instance by being mobilisers, and volunteers, encouraging or praying for those who contribute through arts and poetry, and social media campaigns (Jamal, July 18 2022).
Group Structure and Leadership
The structure of Somali emergency WhatsApp groups usually reflects the main user groups, such as administrators, committee members, and active and inactive participants. Administrators are responsible for setting group rules, managing conversations and ensuring that the group maintains focus on its goals. Participants contribute ideas, financial resources and participate in discussions, with some participants providing financial support without contributing to the discussion – and the other way around.
Reflecting the importance of sub-clans as the pool of potential group members, it is not surprising that clan leaders play important roles, particularly in sending appeals for contributions and engagement – so-called qaayladhaan 2 or urgent appeals for support – as well as disseminating information and coordinating action. According to those interviewed, clan elders are perceived as trustworthy and socially accountable individuals that will share accurate information not only by virtue of their formal position, but also because of their moral reputation, long-standing service to the community, and demonstrated commitment to collective welfare.
Additionally, group administrators in various locations have the authority to add members from their respective regions. These administrators are usually prominent and trusted businesspeople from the clan or same lineage. Their trustworthiness is associated with their visibility within the community, prior success in mobilising resources, and reputations for reliability and transparency in financial and social dealings. Therefore, trust in individuals is mediated through a combination of social embeddedness, past performance, and perceived ethical conduct, reinforcing collective confidence.
The authority to include members also begs the question of inclusion and exclusion. The basis for inclusion usually depends on social trust, kinship, or reputation in the community. As such, members who do not have strong clan ties, belong to a minority group, or do not possess digital literacy, may be excluded from joining or engaging with these groups. Such exclusions have the potential to replicate social inequalities through digital interventions, particularly when it comes to emergencies, in which access to aid can depend on group membership (Majid and Abdirahman, 2017; Musa, 2023).
Furthermore, the interviews also highlight the involvement of committee members. Committees are comprised of both men and women though most of the leadership tends to be men while women typically are assigned roles of treasurer and mobilisers. This gender-based division of labour mirrors broader trends in Somali society where public leadership and decision-making are predominately associated with men and women support behind the scenes.
48-year-old Layla wears a dress with a black veil (niqab) covering her head and face but with her lively eyes exposed. Sitting behind the counter of her Eastleigh shop stocked with chandeliers and elegant items, she seems very much in charge as she talks about the importance of WhatsApp groups during droughts. She details how such groups operate based on trust, with members seeking leadership and guidance from persons whom they consider trustworthy and knowledgeable in the community. She states: Our prophet, Peace Be Upon Him (PBUH), emphasised the necessity of leadership in all endeavours. Thus, we form a group, conduct introductions, and establish committees to continue the work. Each committee receives recommendations on how new members can contribute, after which they are welcomed into the group. A representative from the affected community, trusted and with authority, shares crucial information about the situation, and specific individuals are assigned to collect funds across regions. For instance, in the USA or Kenya, two administrators and three fund collectors are designated. Funds for a specific district [in Somalia] are directed to committee members [living there] who allocate them, based on needs (Layla, 5 August 2022).
Furthermore, while reachability and scalability enable the existence of groups and committee members around the world, making global coordination technically feasible, it is the underlying kinship ties, religious values and communal trust that sustain them, highlighting their relational nature. In the following case study of a WhatsApp group created for drought relief in the southern part of Somalia in 2022, we dive into these dynamics in more detail.
Gurmadka Abaaraha Gobolka 2022 – Regional Drought Relief 2022
The 2022 drought in Somalia was a major humanitarian crisis. Four consecutive below-average dry seasons had a significant impact on agricultural production and water availability across the country. As a result, an estimated 4.6 million Somalis faced acute food insecurity by mid-2022, with predictions that this figure could increase significantly if the situation did not improve. The Somali Federal Government reported 43,000 drought-related deaths. The drought also resulted in the loss of an estimated seven million cattle, which were essential for the sustenance of pastoral communities. This loss worsened food insecurity and increased the risk of malnutrition among vulnerable populations.
Early in the year 2022, as the drought started to worsen, a Somali entrepreneur residing in Eastleigh, Nairobi, is informed of the situation by extended family members. Hassan, 35, gets worried by information received on crop damage and dying livestock in his hometown in a drought-prone region in southern Somalia. Watching videos and pictures sent to him by his uncle living there, depicting dried-up wells and emaciated animals, he realises the level of despair they have reached. One evening Hassan meets with his friends Farah and Abdi at their usual spot, a small, well-lit café on one of Eastleigh's side streets. Their conversation takes a new twist when, over cups of sweet tea, they begin to deliberate on mobilising their kinship members in different parts of the world to offer help to the region. Farah, who has experience in fundraising, suggests the formation of a kinship group on WhatsApp. Stressing that such groups have been effective in raising money in the past, he explains how the group could be used to relay information in real-time, request funds and organise aid.
Hassan and Farah immediately set up the group named Gurmadka Abaarha Gobolka 2022 [Regional Drought Relief 2022]. To start, they create a list of their Eastleigh kinship circle; they add their global kin list next. Yusuf, Hassan's elder brother who owns a hardware business and works in the logistics department in their hometown, joins the team and explains the realities of moving aid to Somalia. In less than two days, the group has grown to more than 150 members, added either directly by Hassan or through accepted invitation links shared within kinship networks. In the early days, group members increase steadily with new members every few hours. After three weeks, the group counts 306 members, based in different cities including Nairobi, Minneapolis, London, Stockholm, and Columbus, with slightly more women than men. At this point, the rate of new members slows with the occasional two or three people added every few days.
Hassan leads the initiative as the main administrator. Enabled by WhatsApp's administrator privileges, he manages membership, coordinates communication, and appoints additional administrators from different locations to support coordination. He works closely with the treasurer to ensure transparent tracking of donations and create various contribution channels including bank accounts, mobile money and hawala, while his friend Farah uses his digital skills to create and share stories to raise awareness. As the conversation advances, Ugaas, the clan leader, makes his appeal. He composes an urgent appeal (qaayladhaan) soliciting a donation. His voice is authoritative yet compassionate, as he records a video: Dear brothers and sisters, the time has come when we need to unite and work as a team – our people need our help, and the situation is quite serious. Families are suffering and starving due to the drought in the villages. Let's unite to provide them with food and water (Ugaas, 15 March 2022).
In the following days, contributions are announced and compared in the group by location. The visibility of messages to all members within the group chat makes individual pledges publicly observable, enabling comparison and encouraging competitive generosity across locations. As group members are motivated to outdo each other, more money is raised for the cause, with screenshots and lists of contributors and amounts shared regularly. Meanwhile Farah designs appealing messages, sharing small videos and infographics posted in the group. Hassan's uncle and other people in the region send photos, videos, and updates, requesting certain types of assistance like food and water. They form a local committee with the most trusted businesspeople, as well as elders and youth in the region, to ensure proper disbursement of the aid. This committee is specifically focused on the distribution process to ensure that essentials get to the needy beneficiaries and that the group is kept informed with continuous updates through photos and videos. Furthermore, kinship elders in Nairobi and Somalia urge all the members to contribute and support the initiative.
The kinship leadership and local population engagement together ensure a large number of people participate. Kinship members pledge and contribute, showing solidarity. Donations pour in rapidly. In three weeks, the group manages to raise USD 102,000, enough funds to supply a large consignment of food and water to the most affected villages in the region. To minimise the risk of misuse, Hassan and Farah have weekly WhatsApp calls with the local committee, sharing the progress of the fundraising campaign and monitoring the utilisation of the funds raised within the group. They create a list of contributors with their full names, location and the amount pledged or contributed, ranging from USD 100 to 300 per person, while businesspeople pledged USD 1000 each. They also post videos and photos of the distribution of food and water, showing the happy faces of families and appreciative messages from the respective village elders, to share and document the results of mobilisation efforts with the rest of the group.
The group remains active until November 2022 with sporadic updates on borehole drilling in some of the villages that lack water sources. Some members opt to leave, but the majority stay in the group despite the lack of activity. Nearly all the participants are active in other groups working on development projects and later in a flooding fundraising group, reflecting the specificity and proliferation of such initiatives.
Socio-Technical Gathering Spaces
In a context of globally dispersed family, clan, and kinship ties, Somali WhatsApp groups facilitate and accelerate communication and connectivity. Participation is structured by the platform's technical features, with administrators controlling group creation and membership. Its capacity to archive messages and circulate screenshots, photos, and videos enables documentation of financial contributions and aid distribution, reinforcing transparency and collective oversight. Likewise, the closed nature of WhatsApp groups affords a sense of security, allowing users to share sensitive information without external verification.
While WhatsApp serves as the primary space for coordination, appeals, and accountability, the actual transfer of funds takes place outside the platform via bank transfers and mobile money, such as the Kenyan MPESA and Somali EVC systems, with receipts and confirmations subsequently shared in the group to enable collective visibility and oversight. Trust is further underpinned through the sharing of recipient updates and media from aid delivery, creating an informal system of transparency and tracking based on relational accountability and reputational pressure rather than formal audit (cf. Brun and Horst, 2023). This informal system of transparency and relational accountability is an important feature in contexts where trust plays an important role in community support and mobilisation, such as in the Somali context.
We therefore suggest characterising Somali kinship WhatsApp emergency groups as socio-technical gathering spaces. Calling them gathering spaces emphasises the assembly and interaction of multiple actors within a closed but scalable online space. The term further draws attention to the relational processes of communication and connectivity, rather than simply content exchange or network formation. We emphasise that affordances are not universal but enacted through context-specific social practices (cf. Costa, 2018; Willems, 2021). We find that socio-technical gathering space is a more precise term than ‘technodiscursive spaces’, proposed in relation to political mobilisation at Facebook, Twitter and Instagram to foreground the discursive strategies and political expressions shaped by platform algorithms and public reach (Johansson and Scaramuzzino, 2023: 589). Likewise, we extend concepts such as “networked publics” (Baym and Boyd, 2012), highlighting selective participation, in-group trust and more generally the culturally situated and relational aspects of digital gathering.
As demonstrated in the interviews and case study, WhatsApp emergency assistance groups are formed independently of each other; characterised by rapid establishment, kinship-based trust and connectivity; and based on organisational structures with transnationally dispersed committees bearing specific responsibilities. These organisational dynamics are not neutral but are shaped by existing social hierarchies, including those based on clan affiliation, gender, and diaspora location. Although women often act as treasurers or mobilisers, group leadership is largely male dominated, reflecting broader patriarchal norms within Somali society. These patriarchal organisation structures may constrain women's influence on group decision-making, including decisions that are strategically important with regard to resource allocation, highlighting the extent to which authority, legitimacy and trust may be reproduced in digital space.
Being created for specific emergencies and organised ‘on the go’ means that the mobilisation of funds, group members, and engagement more broadly can be very fast. Indeed, Farah, his brother and friend managed to set up a drought relief group with 150 members in just two days of getting the idea, drawing on existing kinship networks. However, emergency assistance groups also tend to become inactive relatively quickly when the initial emergency subsides, available resources are depleted, or new crises arise. This temporality reflects both the responsiveness and the ephemerality of these groups, with limited mechanisms for institutional continuity or record-keeping once a crisis subsides (cf. Cooley and Jones, 2013).
Hence, the expression and scope of WhatsApp mobilisation reflect technological advances as well as deep-seated modes of organisation and mutual support systems, revolving around local and global kinship networks. In the case study, we saw how the organisers started out by adding their kinship circles in Eastleigh, then including those living across the globe. The dynamic and geographically dispersed character of Somali kinship networks underscores why WhatsApp groups are particularly well-suited as sociotechnical spaces. Their scalability and flexibility are affordances that map well onto existing social structures. We may therefore question to what degree WhatsApp groups constitute novel and transformative modes of emergency assistance or intensification and proliferation of already existing emergency assistance practices. A short example of Somali diaspora emergency mobilisation taking place about twenty years before the fieldwork for this study accentuates the contrast in technology while indicating continuity despite transformations of related social dynamics.
In 2003, the second author participated in a diaspora event for southern Somalia where 40 Somali men and a few women from Europe, North America and Australia gathered in a municipal hall in Copenhagen (Kleist, 2008). No participants living in the Horn of Africa were present. The aim was to establish a coordinating body for diaspora mobilisation and provision of emergency assistance to their area of origin, not far from the locus of the 2022 drought relief effort. Coordination of this event took place through e-mails and sometimes expensive phone calls, with considerable time and resources spent to bring participants together, including on travel and accommodation costs.
Throughout the conference, participants exchanged news about family, friends and the latest developments. The conference culminated with the showing of a video where participants gathered around a big TV in the conference hall. Recorded by a Swedish-Somali doctor during a visit to the region, the audience watched places and, in some cases, relatives on the video they had not seen for a long time and were visibly moved. While kinship ties and shared affiliation to the area of origin were evident, clan was not mentioned in the formal communication, though several participants stated overall clan membership as a matter of fact and open secret. The avoidance of the term clan in the official communications reflects the history of conflict in the area and a widespread avoidance of talking politics and clan at the time to ‘avoid fanning the flames.’ It allowed participants to highlight the purely humanitarian purpose of the conference.
At the end of the event, an organisation named the Development Organisation of East Africa [pseudonym] was created with a committee located in Denmark to coordinate and generate future support. The organisation never took off, however, due to political fragmentation and financial and logistical challenges, although some of the participating (sub-clan) organisations were active for longer periods of time. 3
Leaving aside the differing political and geographical contexts of Denmark in 2003 versus Eastleigh and Mogadishu in 2022, several socio-technical dimensions stand out. The most obvious differences were in time, cost, and the types of audio-visual materials. The conference in Denmark required extensive time and financial resources to exchange news and organise the meeting of geographically dispersed participants and the conference relied primarily on one video as a means of audio-visual documentation. The contrast to the low-cost real-time messaging and audio-visual communication of WhatsApp groups is indeed striking. Inclusion of participants from crisis-affected areas in the organisation of contemporary emergency assistance is equally remarkable as participation barriers such as strict visa regulations and travel costs have been removed. The scope of participation has thus expanded, not least for Somalis living in crisis-affected areas in Somalia. This expanded participation allows for a redistribution of influence within diasporic networks, especially in contexts where differential mobility has historically shaped participation.
Yet, despite these differences, the overall organisational logic of kinship-based emergency support to one's region of origin and its transnational dispersion is shared between the physical conference 20 years ago and present-day WhatsApp groups. Indeed, kinship as guiding principle may have become even more pertinent, as it was explicitly mentioned in interviews and in the WhatsApp group case study in contrast to the 2003 event where mentioning clan was frowned upon.
Conclusion
Focusing specifically on Somali WhatsApp groups used for emergency relief, this paper adds to the literature on collective action dynamics and digital media, particularly in relation to the diaspora and to community-driven humanitarian action in the Somali context (Chonka, 2019; Kleist et al., 2025; Norman, 2022, 2024) and beyond (e.g., Ginzarly et al., 2025; Lough, 2022).
Based on interviews and netnographic observation, we show that Somali WhatsApp groups for family purposes or emergency assistance constitute key modes of communication and connectivity. They serve as first response spaces and an integral part of life in both Mogadishu and Eastleigh. Yet, the two kinds of WhatsApp groups are used and organised in different ways, with different temporalities. The former tend to be long-term and cater to all kinds of family-related purposes and news, whereas the latter are characterised by fast establishment and mobilisation for specific emergencies. Structured around immediacy rather than long-term intervention, they wither after the emergency is addressed or a new one demands attention.
As our overall conceptual contribution, we suggest that these groups operate as socio-technical gathering spaces. They emerge through the intensification of long-standing social practices of mutual support, trust and connectivity, made faster and more expansive through platform usage. This illustrates that WhatsApp emergency groups are not just technological innovations but are deeply rooted in the socio-cultural fabric of Somali society, extending kinship-based mobilisation and obligations into digital space.
We thereby accentuate the importance of considering cultural contexts when examining the adoption and use of digital technologies across communities, highlighting that communicative affordances only enable specific actions when the context allows it (cf. Costa, 2018; Willems, 2021). Immediacy, reachability and multimediality are central for Somali emergency relief mobilisation, facilitating and reinforcing communication and connectivity practices that resonate with already existing social dynamics and global kinship ties. Furthermore, closed groups afford confidentiality and privacy while audio-visual communication facilitates documentation of events or emergencies, creating awareness and, possibly, emotional support. WhatsApp also offers opportunities for people less comfortable with written communication which is important in the Somali context.
As we have further shown, WhatsApp groups for emergency mobilisation are not registered legal entities like organisations but are made on ad hoc basis without regulations other than the ones that administrators decide – and a maximum group size of 1024 persons. This makes such groups very flexible in adapting to crises. Unlike conventional organisational structures, they can be assembled quickly from existing ties of kinship, enabling rapid and decentralised relief coordination. Membership in these groups is not simply a matter of kinship affiliation, however; it also depends on commitment and ability to contribute to community needs. But contribution and need are defined broadly, including emotional and spiritual support, setting the concept of aid and support in these groups apart from conventional humanitarianism.
Regarding leadership, our analysis shows that groups can be established by youth or other ‘non-traditional’ actors, such as in the case of the 2022 drought relief initiative. Yet, group structures and leadership revolve around established patterns of authority, trust and reputation, with community elders and other respected figures often taking on key roles in the mobilisation and distribution of aid. This involvement works like an online extension of ‘traditional’ modes of gathering for resource mobilisation. Likewise, the 2003 case study of a diaspora conference in Copenhagen demonstrates that attempts to coordinate and mobilize emergency relief in Somalia are not a novel phenomenon. Rather, these attempts are rather long-standing practices that predate social media (cf. Kleist, 2008). Nonetheless, platforms like WhatsApp have accelerated and intensified their scale, speed and reach, including participants from the Somali regions.
As the 2022 case study demonstrates, WhatsApp groups for emergency relief also include local social relations, such as neighbourhood friends and local kinship circles of the initiators of groups, going beyond digital spheres. In this way, they may differ from earlier efforts. Group members living in crisis-affected areas are central for the provision of first-hand information about emergencies and needs on the ground as well as for the delivery of support. Hence, while WhatsApp groups – including Somali emergency groups – are characterised by multi-scalar reachability and connectivity beyond specific localities, their members consist of people living somewhere. In other words, they are examples of situated crisis responses (Kleist et al., 2025) and translocally based sociality and support practices.
As a final note, we call for more research on emergency relief across different platforms, crises and involved groups. Not all groups and individuals in Somali society are equally connected to resourceful kinship and/or diaspora groups. Online mobilisation requires resources including a (smart)phone and internet connection. Literacy – digital and otherwise – shapes mobilisation and engagement. More research is needed to explore how socio-technical gathering spaces like WhatsApp groups are shaped by unequal access, connectivity, and literacy, and how, as a result, they may include or exclude different social actors.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
We extend our sincere gratitude to Mark Bradbury and Mohamed Aden Hassan for their critical review and insightful feedback during the preparation of this article. Their thoughtful comments and expertise have significantly contributed to enhancing the rigour and quality of this work.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Ethical Approval and Informed Consent Statements
Approval was received through a national research permit from the National Commission on Science, Technology and Innovation (NACOSTI). Informed consent was obtained verbally before participation.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Danish Consultative Research Committee (FFU) by Ministry of Foreign Affairs Denmark.
