A former combatant in a secretive, CIA-trained Afghan paramilitary force is the primary suspect in the brazen shooting of two American soldiers in Washington D.C., an attack that has killed one service member and left another critically wounded.

The incident rips open difficult questions for both the United States and nations like Kenya about the long-term blowback from foreign military interventions. It forces a stark reckoning with the challenge of vetting and resettling individuals from conflict zones—a reality Kenyan authorities navigate daily.

Rahmanullah Lakanwal, 29, allegedly opened fire on the soldiers in what officials have termed an "ambush-style" attack. He was subsequently shot and taken into custody. The attack has triggered a halt to the processing of all immigration requests from Afghan nationals, pending a security review.

From CIA Asset to Accused Attacker

Lakanwal's journey from the battlefields of Kandahar to a crime scene blocks from the White House is a story of alliances and their aftermath. CIA Director John Ratcliffe confirmed that Lakanwal was part of a U.S. "partner force" in Kandahar, a Taliban stronghold. This relationship ended after the chaotic American withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021.

He entered the U.S. in September 2021 under "Operation Allies Welcome," a programme designed to evacuate and resettle Afghans who had worked with American forces. Lakanwal was granted asylum in April 2025.

Further reporting has shed light on his specific role:

• He served in the Kandahar Strike Force, also known as a "Zero Unit," an elite counter-terrorism squad trained and equipped by the CIA.
• These units conducted dangerous night raids and other missions to kill or capture suspected terrorists, often operating in secrecy and facing accusations of brutality.
• A relative noted Lakanwal began as a security guard for the unit in 2012 and was later promoted to team leader and GPS specialist.

A Crisis of Vetting and Violent Legacies

The shooting immediately ignited a fierce political firestorm in the U.S. over the vetting of refugees and asylum seekers. While the Department of Homeland Security has stated that Afghans underwent "rigorous" biometric and biographic screenings by multiple intelligence and law enforcement agencies, this case has intensified scrutiny of the process.

For Kenyans, this story is more than a distant headline. It is a potent reminder of the complex legacies of counter-terrorism wars. Kenya's own long-standing military engagement in Somalia and its hosting of hundreds of thousands of refugees mean that the questions of radicalization, vetting, and the unforeseen consequences of war are not abstract policy debates—they are matters of national security and community stability.

As American officials investigate the motive behind the attack, the incident serves as a grim epilogue to the 20-year war in Afghanistan, raising profound questions about who bears the cost when the battlefields of today produce the security threats of tomorrow.