Kenya has one of the strongest data protection policies in Africa. 

Its Data Protection Act (2019) tells companies how to collect and use customer data safely. It protects the country’s control over its data and gives people the right to say how their data is used. Customers can say yes or no, challenge, or stop the use of their data. Yet, Kenyan large corporations—which have been the major culprits—still have work to do to comply with the rules.

On Friday, NCBA, Kenya’s third-largest commercial bank by assets, was fined KES250,000 ($1,930) by the Office of the Data Protection Commissioner (ODPC), the country’s data protection regulator, for violating a customer’s privacy rights. 

What happened? The bank had failed to delete an incorrect email address from its records, despite repeated requests, leading to sensitive financial statements being sent to the wrong person.

The complainant, Brian Githaiga, had asked the bank to remove a second email address linked to his account. The bank failed to act, and the unintended recipient—who had no ties to NCBA—continued receiving his transaction details. Even after she alerted the bank, the issue persisted.

This is risky because once your bank records land in the wrong inbox, you lose control over who sees your details. These statements often contain personal data like your address and phone number. In the wrong hands, you could become a target—even if you’ve always been careful.

This isn’t the first time NCBA has made that mistake. 

In December 2024, the bank was fined KES700,000 ($4,405) for sending a Kenyan customer, Dr. Bernard Shiaunda Aete’s loan statements to his former wife. Despite his request to remove her contact as an alternate address, the bank failed to act.

Banks are expected to set the bar for financial safety, so it’s both surprising and careless for NCBA to drop the ball like this. Although $1,930 may be a small fine, it sends a strong message to others: protect your customers’ data—or pay for it.

When the US President, Donald Trump, slapped 90 countries with a reciprocal tariff on April 2, we expected some to cave under the pressure. Some countries have since moved to negotiate favourable trade terms with the US.

One of them is Lesotho—a small, landlocked country in Southern Africa that has long depended on exporting textiles to the US. Trump’s new 50% tariff—which was paused for 90 days—on textile imports could cripple Lesotho’s garment sector, which employs 30,000 people and contributes over 80% of its export revenue as of 2022. That’s not a blow you walk off.

It’s understandable why Lesotho is looking to offer a quid pro quo to sweeten its diplomatic ties with the US. And what better way to do that than by giving Elon Musk’s Starlink a backdoor entry? The satellite internet company has struggled to gain ground in several African countries, particularly in the Southern African region, due to regulatory bottlenecks—including Lesotho, which requires 30% local ownership in foreign ventures.

If Lesotho allows Starlink in without the satellite internet service provider (ISP) following the ownership rule, it would be a big change in policy—creating a setback for Lesotho’s regulators that have been trying to force compliance among foreign-owned businesses trooping into the country.

The country is stuck between Charybdis and Scylla, as it tries to improve local investment inflow while protecting its access to the US market. If Starlink makes it in through the backdoor, the satellite ISP will become the most visible reference of the country’s policy failure. What message does it send to other investors who had to comply with the local ownership rule?

In the short stint before the US president paused its reciprocal tariffs, the world witnessed a literal turmoil: stock markets were down, over $2 billion in crypto was wiped out, and for a second, you didn’t know whether to panic or buy the dip. While Donald Trump may have paused reciprocal tariffs for another 90 days, did you ever wonder what the tariffs meant for Africa’s tech ecosystem?

We broke down the analysis here so you wouldn’t have to worry.

For startups looking to raise, the mood is cautious. VC funding into African tech dipped to just $50 million in March—its lowest in over four years—as investors retreat to safe assets like US Treasuries. Inflation fears and a looming global recession are making US-based funds more defensive.

For exporters, the picture’s more complex. While Nigerian traders now face a $14 duty on a $100 bag of cassava flour, they could gain an edge over competitors like Vietnam and Thailand, who face tariffs as high as 49%. But limited local processing capacity and weak infrastructure mean Nigeria risks missing the moment.

Crypto startups? They got whiplash. The tariff shock wiped $2 billion off the market and hit exchange revenues. Hardware imports are now pricier, but founders see a window to build Africa-first infrastructure.

Telecoms may be spared—for now. But if inflation eats into consumer spending, they won’t stay insulated for long.

So while Trump hits pause, Africa’s tech scene is holding its breath. The question isn’t if the tariffs will return—but whether the continent will be ready when they do.

Read our full analysis here.