In Nigeria, Kenya, Namibia, and South Africa, governments and businesses are grappling with Starlink—Elon Musk’s satellite network that promises to bridge connectivity gaps left by decades of underinvestment. Yet, behind the vision of a continent “finally connected” lies a more uncomfortable reality: an expensive service controlled by a single US company, risking the creation of an internet for the few while public networks lag behind.
In Ekiti State, southwestern Nigeria, local finance official Akin Oyebode has spent years trying to attract investment. Telecommunications companies, *The Economist* reports, are unwilling to extend fiber-optic cables into the hills, deeming it too costly. While the administration’s installation of a Starlink terminal has improved connectivity, the signal weakens during the rainy season, necessitating a backup system.
The situation in Ekiti reflects a broader issue. In the early 2000s, Africa bet heavily on mobile broadband, connecting hundreds of millions of people via smartphones rather than building fiber-optic networks. Today, that choice is revealing its limitations: the network cannot handle the traffic generated by streaming and artificial intelligence, and even in developed cities like Lagos and Nairobi, video calls frequently freeze. According to *The Economist*, the continent’s data traffic is set to triple by 2030.
Fiber-optic coverage remains marginal, reaching less than 1 percent of the continent’s population. Bosun Tijani, Nigeria’s Minister of Digital Economy, estimates that the country is short by 90,000 kilometers of network infrastructure; on a continental scale, the deficit runs into hundreds of thousands of kilometers.
It is into this gap that Starlink has stepped. The company operates in 27 African countries and—according to the consultancy Tmf Associates, as cited by *The Economist*—aims to surpass one million subscribers in Africa by 2027. However, the limitations are clear: prices are higher than those for mobile connections and often even fiber, and in Nairobi, demand outstripped network capacity, forcing Starlink to suspend new sign-ups for seven months.
The most tangible impact, *The Economist* notes, is on competition: the Nigerian subsidiary of the South African giant MTN—one of the continent’s leading telecommunications operators—risks losing its most profitable customers and is being forced to increase investment. Yet, the response to a public infrastructure failure is coming from a foreign private company rather than a national development plan.
In Southern Africa, Starlink’s expansion has run up against a specific obstacle: laws requiring communications companies to allocate a minimum share of their equity to local investors.
In March, the Communications Regulatory Authority of Namibia (CRAN) rejected the license application submitted by Musk’s company to operate in the country, noting that its subsidiary lacked local co-owners. The law mandates that at least 51 percent of a telecommunications company’s shares be held by Namibian citizens or entities—a rule stemming from economic redistribution policies adopted after independence from South Africa in 1990, the BBC reports. In June, CRAN also rejected a request for reconsideration, dismissing over 600 submissions from third parties, according to Business Insider Africa.
In South Africa, electronic communications legislation reserves at least 30 percent of a licensed company’s equity for individuals who were "historically disadvantaged" under apartheid. Musk, who was born in Pretoria, has claimed the rule excludes him from the market on racial grounds, the BBC notes. The government has rejected this interpretation, emphasizing that the law applies to all operators and that more than 600 US companies—including Microsoft—operate successfully in the country while complying with it.
In July, Communications Minister Solly Malatsi denied that a proposed reform—which would allow foreign companies to meet their obligations through equivalent investments—had been suggested by lobbies linked to Starlink, *Business Insider Africa* reports. Malatsi noted that he had also met with other satellite operators, including Amazon’s Project Kuiper.
Meanwhile, Starlink is growing at a pace unmatched by any competitor: according to *African Business*, it had 10,790 satellites in orbit by the end of 2025, up from 7,610 in 2024. Amazon, with its LEO constellation, had only 367.
A parallel internet
The most radical criticism comes from the online magazine *Afrique XXI*, which published an analysis by Cameroonian researcher Georges Macaire Eyenga. According to Eyenga, the fiber-optic network of the state-owned Cameroonian operator Camtel covers only small areas—even in Cameroon’s major cities—and disappears as soon as one moves away from main roads. Promotional offers from mobile operators create an illusion of abundance but force users to constantly top up their credit, in a country where the minimum wage is less than $70 a month.
When outages affecting the WACS, SAT-3, and ACE undersea cables paralyzed banks, universities, and tech hubs from Abidjan (Ivory Coast) to Cape Town (South Africa) between 2024 and 2025, those with Starlink terminals—such as embassies and NGOs—remained fully connected. Eyenga calls this phenomenon "selective reliability" and frames it as a political question: connectivity, yes, but for whom?
A Starlink kit costs between $300 and $500, while the monthly subscription ranges from $28 to $50. The service does not replace struggling public networks; instead, it offers a minority a parallel, fast, and stable internet connection, deployed primarily at mining sites, tourist lodges, and industrial facilities.
