Why Africans Don’t Trust Fintech’s and Mobile Money (Yet)
(why access alone will never fix our inclusion problem)
Let’s start with a simple truth: access isn’t the same as trust.
We’ve spent over a decade celebrating Africa’s financial inclusion boom — the millions of new mobile wallets, the rise of fintech titans from Lagos to Nairobi, the mammoth stats that make development economists beam. Yet, I keep coming back to one uncomfortable question: do Africans trust the financial systems we’ve created for them?
Because if they don’t, then all we’ve built are digital doors — not open ones.
The Trust Deficit
Let me tell you what I’ve noticed.
When I travel or sit in fintech board meetings, whether it’s Accra, Nairobi, or Kigali, the conversation is always about growth numbers: access rates, transactions, adoption curves. But ask everyday people — market women, boda riders, university graduates — and trust becomes the recurring theme.
They’ll say, “I use the app because I must, not because I trust it.”
That’s a dangerous admission.
The 2025 Global Findex confirmed what we’ve all quietly known: while more Africans are using financial services than ever, fewer say they feel protected or understood by them. Trust hasn’t grown at the same pace as innovation. In Ghana and Kenya, it’s not uncommon to hear quiet stories of digital lenders calling users in the middle of the night, threatening public shaming over unpaid micro-loans.
Access? We nailed that part.
But ethics? That’s where we’re floundering.
When Innovation Forgets Its Soul
Innovation without ethics is just exploitation wearing designer sneakers.
The African fintech scene has evolved so fast that ethics simply hasn’t kept up. It’s like we built a 300km/hr car but forgot to install the seatbelts. In places like Kenya and Nigeria, digital lending exploded before consumer protection caught up. Transparent rates? Rare. Consent for data use? Questionable. Privacy policies? Copy-pasted from California startups operating under GDPR rules with no translation for local realities.
Ghana is trying to learn from these lessons. The National Financial Inclusion and Development Strategy now insists that fintech growth must come with trust — not as charity, but as smart economics. The Bank of Ghana’s sandbox encourages innovators to break things, yes, but to break them responsibly. It’s a model we should replicate everywhere.
What Trust Really Looks Like
Trust is not a slogan — it’s a daily practice. It’s visible in:
- A regulator answering citizens’ questions, not just issuing fines.
- A lender showing customers how credit scoring works, even when it costs efficiency points.
- A fintech engineer choosing user dignity over investor pressure.
Kenya’s Central Bank figured this out the hard way. After years of wild-west lending, it stepped in with tough new rules. Overnight, hundreds of rogue lenders disappeared from app stores. Many complained. But regulation, when done right, isn’t the enemy of innovation — it’s the foundation of belief.
And in an economy built on data, belief is everything.
Data, Dignity, and the Silent Contract
Data has become the new loan collateral — except most Africans never signed the contract.
Every mobile transaction, every saved contact, every repayment is fuel for algorithmic evaluation. But who guards this treasure trove of personal data? Who ensures it’s not weaponized against people?
Ghana’s Data Protection Commission and Kenya’s Data Protection Act have started tightening the screws. Still, across much of the continent, people’s digital footprints remain unprotected. Without meaningful consent and transparency, we will keep dancing on the knife-edge between inclusion and exploitation.
Here’s the irony: we created these platforms to empower the unbanked, but without ethical data governance, we risk turning them into the most surveilled populations in modern finance.
Rebuilding Trust, Brick by Brick
Trust is not built by press releases. It’s earned through consistent, transparent action.
Ghana is experimenting with ethical banking certifications. Kenya has its Code of Ethics for Business, recently recognized internationally. Nigeria’s SEC is upping its fintech oversight game. Rwanda’s regulators have even begun consulting community groups before launching new financial products.
These are not random policies — they’re signals that Africa’s next financial revolution is not technological. It’s moral.
Africa’s Ethical Advantage
If we get this right, ethics could become Africa’s global differentiator. While Western markets fight over scale and data dominance, we can lead by design — building systems rooted in dignity, fairness, and relationship. A uniquely African definition of trust.
Because let’s be honest: in Africa, trust isn’t abstract; it’s cultural. We borrow from neighbors, not banks. We lend on reputation, not credit score. Our informal systems worked because they were built on relationship capital. If the new digital economy learns to embody that same relational ethic at scale, then inclusion will finally mean something.
The Real Question
Maybe the question isn’t “how do we include everyone?”
Maybe it’s “how do we deserve everyone’s inclusion?”
Kenya and Ghana are asking this now — and the rest of the continent should too.
Because if people must use your system but don’t trust it, then you haven’t built inclusion. You’ve built dependency with better UX.
Africa doesn’t need more digital access.
We need ethical access.
The kind built slowly, transparently, and with the understanding that every transaction is really a test: do we still believe in the system we’ve built together?
If the answer is no — then all our innovation, all our apps, and all our funds mean nothing.