The dealer wants a share of the profits – how criminals in Kenya are boosting the doping carousel


They're not waving a checkbook, but a success injection. "For a small fee, I'll give you the address of a doctor or pharmacist who will supply you with EPO, testosterone, or some other miracle drug." The deal: When athletes improve thanks to doping and win prize money, the criminals demand a share of the profits.
NZZ.ch requires JavaScript for important functions. Your browser or ad blocker is currently preventing this.
Please adjust the settings.
Doping cases are repeatedly reported from Kenya, and the media points the finger at international coaches and managers or local officials. "But there is no institutional, organized doping in this country," says Thomas Capdevielle, who is responsible for the testing program at the Athletics Integrity Unit (AIU). The AIU is an independent institution that has, among other things, served as the anti-doping agency for World Athletics since 2017.
As early as 2018, the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) stated in a report: "The doping practices of Kenyan athletes are immature, opportunistic, and uncoordinated." It also stated that fraud with illicit substances in the East African country differs drastically from the structures uncovered elsewhere in the world. What was previously unknown was that criminals play a key role. "It functions like drug trafficking," says Capdevielle.
As easy to obtain as cannabis in SwitzerlandBrett Clothier, head of the AIU, adds that the drug, which makes you fast, is as readily available to athletes as cannabis is to teenagers in Europe. Guys approach them every day, in their homes, on the sidelines of athletics tracks, and even at the camps run by dozens of managers, coaches, or shoe companies.
When women are convicted of doping, their husbands often play a significant role. "We repeatedly see men encouraging women to dope so they can bring money into the house," says Clothier. A dramatic change has taken place in this relationship. As recently as the 1990s, there were hardly any top East African female runners; Sally Barsosio was the first world champion from Kenya in 1997. It was not considered proper for women to run around. And today, men exploit them as drugged cash cows.
That something like this can work is explained by the East African running myth and the country's poverty. Kenyans were long considered naturally talented and superior to athletes from other continents. It was even claimed they had a genetic advantage. Starting in the 1960s, dozens of men, and later women, were celebrated by the masses as Olympic champions, world champions, and world record holders. And everyone wanted to emulate them.
It doesn't have to be an Olympic victory. Thanks to the running boom in developing countries, there's money on the streets. Even in neighborhood races, you can earn a few hundred dollars, and even a few thousand in small marathons. That's a lot of money for people from a country where 35 percent of the population lives on less than 1.50 francs a day.
There are thousands of women and men in Kenya who race over hill and dale in the hope of one day earning money. A visit by the NZZ to the track in Eldoret in 2012 revealed an incredible scene: hundreds milling about, world-class athletes alongside poor souls toiling barefoot. Many of these people are not members of the federation. Kenya's Anti-Doping Agency (ADAK) is unable to register them all.
Thomas Capdevielle says the grassroots level in Kenya is completely out of control. And when people dope their way to the top, they put pressure on established athletes, who begin to fear for their positions. Then a nice person comes along who makes the right contacts for cash.
It's not just up-and-coming talents or desperate runners from the mainstream who are caught. Olympic champions, world champions, and winners of major marathons are regularly caught. Recently, Ruth Chepngetich , who stunned the world in the fall of 2024 when she became the first woman to run the marathon in Chicago under 2:10, was banned.
Establishing an effective anti-doping program in such a country is a Herculean task. But Capdevielle says: "Testing in Kenya is now the best in the world, better than in Europe and North America." This is possible because the Kenyan government, the organizers of major road races, and even the shoe companies have realized how damaging it is to their image when winners from the country of runners are repeatedly exposed. There are now even managers who request that dubious runners in their group be tested.
The Kenyan government provides $5 million annually for the tests, plus $2.5 million for the operation of the ADAK. The seriousness of the politicians' efforts is demonstrated by the fact that they not only discuss money but also inform themselves about how it can best be used, says Clothier. As a result, Kenya's Anti-Doping Agency has been able to increase the number of surprise out-of-competition tests from 400 to 4,000 per year.
The focus is on athletes below the top level, as the AIU is responsible for these. However, the Kenyan agency was reprimanded by WADA a few days ago for not adhering to its code. Clothier says this is primarily due to the rapid growth. He is glad that the Kenyans are being watched.
The AIU tests world-class athletes. It also receives funding from the organizers of international road races for this. Anyone wishing to be included in the "Label Road Races" group must pay a fixed amount into the anti-doping fund. There are 300 races worldwide; the largest contribute $50,000 annually, the smallest $5,000.
This is financed through a portion of the prize money and contributions from athlete managers and equipment suppliers. Three million dollars are raised annually. With these funds, the AIU has been able to build its own testing pool for road runners, which includes around 300 names. These include athletes from all over the world, but around 90 percent come from East Africa.
Shoe companies are now also contacting the AIU directly. The Swiss company On had long been asking whether it would be possible to regularly test athletes from their training groups. If they weren't part of a testing pool, On covered the costs. The company is now building a training base in Kenya and has involved the AIU from the start.
The hunt for dopers works extremely well in athletics. The methods are constantly being optimized, and a team of investigators and doping experts helps determine the best time for a surprise test. Currently, around 600 athletes worldwide are banned. 143 of them are from Kenya.
This creates a public image of a completely contaminated sport – with the largest outbreak in Kenya. The head of testing acknowledges this with a shrug. "Our job is to catch cheaters, and we fulfill that task as best we can," says Capdevielle. This statement also contains a slight dig at other sports. Are they actually less contaminated? Or are people simply less scrutinizing?
But looking closely isn't so easy. "Doping doesn't work the way it did at the turn of the century," says Clothier. Back then, the entire Festina cycling team was exposed, and later, Lance Armstrong and Tyler Hamilton, for example; in track and field, Marion Jones and Tim Montgomery, for example. Elaborate doping schemes involving various substances were discovered for all of these fallen heroes. Even in competition, they used injections to push themselves up the mountains or down the finish line.
Specialized doctors were needed to develop these plans or assist with blood transfusions. The Italian Michele Ferrari, the Spaniard Eufemiano Fuentes, and the German Mark Schmidt, who was caught during the bloodletting operation, were considered champions in white coats. "That was once upon a time," says Clothier. Today, it's all about training more and more intensively and recovering faster.
Sometimes nothing can be detected after just twelve hoursAll that's needed is microdoses of the blood doping drug EPO or the male sex hormone testosterone. One is injected into a fold of the abdomen, the other can be introduced into the body via a patch applied to the skin. "Any general practitioner or pharmacist can do this," says Capdevielle. If the drugs are used specifically and in low doses, they disappear from the body very quickly. "The time window in which we can detect them is 24 to 28 hours; sometimes you can't see anything after as little as 12 hours," says the AIU test manager.
This is also due to the fact that the groundbreaking innovations in doping analysis occurred several years ago. The EPO test dates back to 2000, the blood passport to 2009 , and the detection of long-term metabolites of anabolic steroids to 2013. While all methods have been refined, athletes have responded with more subtle doping.
This leads to the aforementioned small detection windows. Athletes must always enter into a computer system when and where they would be available for an inspector. "We test the top athletes twelve times a year," says Capdevielle. That's once a month. But even with the most clever way of identifying the time when athletes might be doping, it's ultimately not a matter of days, but of hours. For the AIU, one thing is clear: "We need more tests."
nzz.ch