
Beyond Mobile Money: The Human Side of Fintech in Africa
When we talk about "fintech" in Nairobi, it's easy to get lost in the buzzwords. Blockchain. DeFi. Digital wallets.
But let's pause and look at what this actually means for a human being.
Meet Sarah. She runs a vegetable stall in Nairobi. For years, Sarah existed outside the financial system. She dealt in cash. If she had a bad week, she had no safety net. If she wanted to expand her stall, she had no way to prove to a bank that she was a creditworthy business owner. To the formal economy, Sarah didn't exist.
The Invisible Revolution
Then, something changed. It wasn't a sudden flash of lightning. It was a slow, quiet revolution that started with a text message.
Mobile money didn't just let Sarah send cash to her village. It gave her a financial identity. Every transaction was a footprint. Every bill paid was a data point.
Suddenly, Sarah wasn't invisible anymore.
New platforms—apps built by kids in coffee shops in Kilimani—started to see her. They didn't ask for land titles or collateral. They looked at her history. They saw that she paid her suppliers on time. They saw that her revenue was growing.
And they gave her a loan.
It wasn't a million shillings. It was maybe $50. But that $50 bought more stock. That stock turned into profit. That profit paid for school fees.
Trust in a Trustless World
This is what excites me about the future of finance in Africa. It's not about speculative assets or getting rich quick. It's about trust.
For decades, our financial systems were built on exclusion. Trust was a luxury good, reserved for the wealthy.
Technology is democratizing trust. It's building bridges between capital and talent, between opportunity and hard work.
The Friction of Borders
But we still have a long way to go.
Have you ever tried to send money to a friend in Uganda? Or pay a supplier in Tanzania? It's a nightmare. The borders that define our nations shouldn't define our economic potential.
I dream of a day when a designer in Nairobi can work for a client in Lagos and get paid instantly, without losing 15% to fees. I dream of a day when African markets talk to each other as easily as neighbors chatting over a fence.
Conclusion
We are building the rails for the next century of African prosperity.
It's not just code we're writing. We're writing a new social contract. One where your potential isn't limited by your zip code or your gender or your lack of a bank account.
So yes, we build apps. We build platforms. But never forget who we're building for. We're building for Sarah.