Tag Archives: Media

Educating Children One Radio Wave at a Time

Nigeria’s conflict has displaced more than a million children, leaving them without access to education. However, an innovative radio program aims to transform this bleak scenario. Concerned by the ongoing insecurity and its impacts, the UN’s children agency (UNICEF) created a radio program to help educate displaced children in the Lake Chad region.

“Boko Haram has disrupted the lives of 1.3 million children with a radical insurgency that has burned villages, displaced people, and created a culture of fear,” said UNICEF’s Crisis Communications Specialist Patrick Rose.

Now entering its eight year, Boko Haram’s violent insurgency has intensified and spilled over in the Lake Chad region, displacing over 2 million people across four countries.

The group has particularly targeted education, destroying more than 900 schools and forcing at least 1,500 more to close.

According to Human Rights Watch, at least 611 teachers have been killed and another 19,000 forced to flee. Boko Haram has also attacked students to keep them out of school and forcibly recruited students into its ranks.

Such targeted attacks and destruction have created an education gap in crisis-affected areas, especially where displaced communities have fled to.

“Short of going through and building new schools in all of those communities when we don’t know how long this conflict is going to last, we tried to develop ways that we could reach these children and deliver some sort of educational routine that will keep them at least learning,” Rose told IPS.

Created with support from the European Union (EU) and in partnership with the governments of Cameroon and Niger, UNICEF’s radio education programs serve as an alternative platform for the 200,000 children in the two countries unable to access schools.

It includes 44 episodes of educational programming on literacy and numeracy for various ages and will be broadcast through state channels in both French and the local languages of Kanouri, Fulfulde, and Hausa.

The curriculum also includes a child protection component such as psychosocial support, guiding teachers to create a space for children to share their experiences and learn how to manage their fears.

“When you have children who have been deeply disturbed by displacement, many of whom have witnessed the murders of their own families, and you create a situation in which they are expected to spend eight hours a day in a classroom that isn’t engaging at all with the reality that they are encountering outside, you get a fundamental dissonance and ultimately low engagement,” Rose said.

As part of its Education in Emergencies initiatives, UNICEF works closely with communities to identify the risks they face as individuals and schools as a whole.

In one such workshop about fears, one girl wrote “kidnappy,” reflecting the deep distress and risk of kidnapping that young girls face.

Not only does the radio program have the potential to decrease the likelihood of kidnapping as children listen from home, but it also creates a “positive” space that addresses children’s realities.

Discussions are underway with the governments of Cameroon and Niger to make radio courses certified, allowing children to receive a certification and pass the school year.

Rose called the approach to the complex crisis “unique,” as it moves from a focus on individual countries to a multi-country response.

Continue reading on Ips Africa

By  Tharanga Yakupitiyage

Journalists forced to work under the heel of repressive regimes

The Committee to Protect Journalists last year named Somalia, Kenya, South Sudan and Burundi as the deadliest countries for journalists to work in. The New York-based NGO based its findings on deaths of journalists that had been reported in the affected countries.

Other African countries making the list of top five deadliest countries for journalists were Libya and DR Congo. Kenya entered this category following the death of Eldoret-based journalist John Kutuyi two years ago.

In another report released in May this year by Reporters Without Borders, Kenya, alongside South Africa and Nigeria, had not improved on its ranking. Tanzania led the pack followed by Kenya, Uganda, Rwanda and Burundi at positions 83, 95, 112, 159 and 160 respectively.

Politics, corruption and crime top the list of causes of deteriorating press freedoms and deaths of journalists in the world in which Mexico tops the list of deadliest workstations.

Heightened political activity in the region due to forthcoming elections in Kenya and Rwanda are likely to trigger a ban on media outlets and a clampdown on journalists.

Ironfisted regimes

Although Tanzania is not in an election season, President John Magufuli’s desire to maintain a firm grip on key institutions, has seen a number of sanctions taken against the media by his administration.

Practising journalism in Tanzania is increasingly becoming a criminal undertaking if the number of closures and bans on media houses is anything to go by.

The ruling regime’s with ironfisted handling of the media started last year when it banned two radio stations for allegedly allowing callers to insult President Magufuli.

The row between the media and the government reached fever pitch with the raid on a private TV station by Dar es Salaam Regional Commissioner Paul Makonda, resulting in the sacking of Information Minister Nape Nnauye, who had condemned the assault.

In Kenya, a number of open files with journalists as the main suspects are gathering dust at the shelves of senior criminal investigation officers’ offices at the headquarters of Kenya’s criminal investigation department. Curiously, most journalists who have been arrested are never charged in court, save for bloggers, but their files remain open for purposes of intimidation.

With elections in August, journalists can only fasten their safety belts so that they can tell the story to a public that is thirsting for accurate and objective information.

Continue reading on The East African

By Erick Oduor, vice president of the Eastern African Journalists Association and secretary-general of the Kenya Union of Journalists.

Take me to your leader: Eritrea’s Isaias Afwerki

Despite all that’s been written and spoken about extreme repression and economic blight in Eritrea, surprisingly little has been publicized about its inscrutable leader, Isaias Afwerki, who has led the country with an iron fist since independence in 1991. Based on common knowledge among Eritreans in the country and other information collected over the years from frequent contacts, Abraham T. Zere attempted to profile him.

Having closed all independent media and banned international correspondents, President Afwerki rebuilt the national media to exclusively serve his own interests and ambitions. In regular interviews with the state media, he approves all questions beforehand. In the midst of interviews, he often takes over, addressing a single question with lectures that ramble on for 30 minutes or more. The journalists’ only role is to help him transition between topics and occasionally nod in approval or agreement. Once during a pre-recorded interview, one of the “journalists,” Asmelash Abraha, fell asleep during the president’s long reply. In his regular interviews with the state media, Afwerki talks at leisure and analyzes many world developments. During an interview on the national broadcaster, Eri-TV, journalist, Temesghen Debessai, asked the president questions interchangeably in three languages, Tigrinya, English and Arabic. Afwerki talked about a variety of issues, demonstrating his command of language, history and current events for his Eritrean audience.

Afwerki appoints and fires ministers unpredictably and erratically. Journalist Seyoum Tsehaye tells a story about his encounter with Afwerki before he himself was imprisoned (15 years later he is still behind bars). Tsehaye, then director of the newly established ERI-TV, was summoned to the office of the president. The two had a heated exchange, and the president demanded he leave. Before Tsehaye reached his own office, Afwerki had called Tsehaye’s immediate supervisors to effectively freeze him from his job.

Similarly, Andebrhan Welde Giorgis wrote in his book, Eritrea at a Crossroads: A Narrative of Triumph, Betrayal and Hope (2014), that a disagreement he had with President Afwerki when he was governor of the national bank resulted in the sudden appointment of Tekie Beyene to take over his position. He was instructed to vacate his job the same afternoon.

Another example of Afwerki’s arbitrary and abrupt nature in dealing with underlings in his government involved the National Holidays Coordinating Committee. This is the key office that undertakes all national celebrations, including planning and carrying out propaganda. When some of the performances at the Independence Day celebration of May 24, 2010, displeased the president he ousted Zemhret Yohannes, the committee chair and a longstanding executive member of the ruling party.

Later, Afwerki appointed Semere Russom, minister of education, to chair the committee. Barely a year into his term, Russom returned from a trip to China to learn that his position had been taken over by Luel Ghebreab, then chairwoman of the National Union of Eritrean Women (NUEW). Ghebreab herself fell out of favor the next year (both as chair of the holidays committee and chair of the women’s association) and was replaced by Zemede Tekle.

Afwerki is notorious for not providing clear directives when he appoints people to a new position or to launch a big program. Frequently, he meets with people and approves directives while in his car or walking, or when out-of-town on public holidays. Without having adequate knowledge or a full grasp of the new task, newly appointed officials must navigate their way perilously through trial and error.

In the regular cabinet meeting, ministers take turns to present the quarterly or semi-annual reports of their respective ministries through Power Point presentations. All other sensitive issues are handled autonomously by the president and his favorite (at that moment) officials, mainly from the army and security.

Corruption is not only tolerated but encouraged, and the president uses it to buy loyalty. Relatively incorruptible government officials are considered a potential threat, so Afwerki makes sure he appoints loyal subordinates who will report directly to him.

Since the mid-2000s, the president has started a so-called “tour of inspection” that allows him to personally monitor all development projects across the country. During these tours, he advises or instructs private businesses and hands down directives directly affecting these government projects. Disregarding the expertise of professionals or ignoring them entirely, Afwerki approves projects that cost millions. For example, during the second half of the 2000s, all Eritrea was talking about a dam project called Gerset – a name that became ubiquitous in the national media. Afwerki was the sole architect and engineer for the project, which he launched against the repeated advice of professionals. Although the intended goal was irrigation, after Gerset was built, (not unexpectedly) the whole project proved to be a failure. It sustained massive cost over-runs due to the huge cost of pumping water uphill. Fast forward to today, and the whole embarrassing project has faded away from the collective memory.

Continue reading on Africa is a country

By Abraham T. Zere

Peacebuilding in Africa: why the media matters

The appointment of United Nations (UN) Secretary-General António Guterres in January has many wondering how he will take forward the recommendations of three major UN reviews on peacebuilding, peacekeeping and women, and peace and security, conducted in 2015. All three reviews emphasise the role of the media as an actor, rather than an onlooker, in conflict – and argue for local media to be included in peacekeeping and peacebuilding processes.

Still, this inclusivity – which former UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon defines as ‘the extent and manner in which the views and needs of the parties to conflict are represented, heard and integrated into a peace process’ – remains elusive.

The media is clearly a key actor, but media freedoms are being curtailed across Africa. And this leads to even more conflict, as noted by the UN peacebuilding review. Opposition journalists often disappear; and Internet blackouts are becoming commonplace. This was recently seen in Zimbabwe, Ethiopia and south-western Cameroon.

Similar moves towards greater state control over information are also seen at a multilateral level. Last year, South Africa joined Russia and China in voting against a UN resolution on the ‘promotion, protection and enjoyment of human rights on the Internet’. The resolution included access to information on the Internet during key times such as elections. South Africa has also come under fire for attempts to pass a Protection of State Information Bill.

But restrictions on media freedoms aren’t the only obstruction to the media being a powerful and active peacebuilding partner. Another challenge is ensuring that the media works as a force for positive change. In several cases, the media has been instrumental in inciting violence, for example during the 2007 Kenyan elections and in Rwanda’s genocide, when state media called for people to ‘exterminate the cockroaches’.

But the media can also bring problems to light, and can help break down obstacles to peace and help quell violence. The work of Search for Common Ground (a global NGO working to end conflict) in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) is a good example of how the media can help bridge communication in a country where basic infrastructure is lacking.

The NGO has actively used the media through constant engagement to reduce conflict in the Eastern DRC. Via platforms like radio, the focus is on encouraging local populations to manage differences through peaceful means.

Similarly, the UN has recognised the importance of the media and has also used radio – and even text messaging – to create a link between the mission and the local population. One of the most successful examples of this has been Radio Okapi in the DRC.

Okapi Consulting director David Smith says, ‘Radio associated with peacekeeping missions, when properly targeting its audience and including the audience in content and discussion, provides a vital platform for open discussion that is more often than not missing due to governance issues. It provides capacity building not only for the local population, but also local authorities and the military – if dialogue can lead to trust between all parties, this opens a road to peace and, more importantly, prosperity.’

Smith says in N’Djamena, where he has set up an independent radio network targeting the populations across the region affected by Boko Haram, language is key. Of all the broadcasters in the four countries across the Lake Chad region, the station is the only one that broadcasts in Kanuri, ensuring that the Kanuri population feel better included in ongoing peace processes.

Continue reading on ISS Today

By Amanda Lucey and Catherine Cochrane

Picture credit: Phil Moore/Getty Images.

Life in No-Internet Cameroon

The English-speaking regions of Cameroon have been facing a government-ordered Internet shutdown since 17 January. This shutdown was imposed in the wake of ongoing strikes, violence and protests against the continued marginalisation of English-speakers. Monique Kwachou describes life in No-Internet Cameroon.

It used to be difficult to explain that there were two Cameroons. At conferences, international round tables where Africans and Afro-inquisitive Westerners would swap stories, as well as questions and assumptions about each other’s countries, you would often have to debunk the myth that you were fluent in French by virtue of being Cameroonian and being called Monique. It would take too long to explain the invisible divide of that Picot Line. This problem, which has since either been ignored or normalised, would be too broad to broach. So you limit your comments on your country to corruption, the president’s everlasting reign, conveniently patriarchal cultural ‘values’ – issues all Africans understand and face, unfortunately, irrespective of their country of origin.

But recently your government has made it easier to explain that there are two Cameroons. They somehow found that dividing line that no one would acknowledge existed and now it is clear: There is Internet Cameroon and No-Internet Cameroon, that is, La Republic du Cameroun, which gained independence from French rule on 1 January 1960, and former British Southern Cameroons, which gained independence by merging with ‘long lost brothers’ on 1 October 1961.

Now when your colleagues from other countries ask you about Cameroon, it is easier to explain the problem that has long been ignored and subdued. Easier, not easy. The issues of who and what you identify as remains as complex as ever. Now your colleagues ask you, how are you coping? What is it like living under an Internet ban? You attempt to help them envisage it. Imagine this, you say:

So, what is it like?

It is 7pm. Just two hours earlier news had broken of the government banning the associations at the forefront of the longest and largest strikes in recent national history. Now you are reading reports online, stating that some of the leaders of the strike (and one of the now banned associations) have been arrested. Upon reading this you feel alarmed. You attempt calling those you know to check on their well-being.

Your call doesn’t go through. You try reaching out to mutual friends and family online to discuss your fears and ascertain their safety, but your messages keep loading. You can’t see the tick next to your WhatsApp messages, the one that would confirm that they had been delivered. You assume it is the network; that the lines are probably crammed as the news of arrests sends everyone scurrying to call their loved ones.

Things will surely escalate. And they do. You see cars held up on the road just outside your window – bikers have taken to blocking the roads with burning tires and abandoned cars to show their displeasure. You hear shots being fired into the air, the police descending with tear gas. People try to park their cars on the pavements to hide in the safety of neighboring buildings like the one you live in. Others use the opportunity to loot and steal – you see them running with gas bottles stolen from the local gas station. You have dismantled your phone and reassembled it twice, removing and replacing your SIM card, restarting it, feeling confident that the network will return so you can check in with your loved ones or follow updates on the situation.

An hour later you receive a call from a friend who is stuck a mile from your place due to the road blocks. Could he come spend the night? he asks. The roads are blocked and the police are arresting whoever they can. When he arrives at your place, he tells you of the fear on fellow passengers’ faces when they saw tires burning on the road and bikers with bottles – ‘kerosene bombs’ – only for the gendarmes to follow with batons and tear gas. He tells of running for his life and feeling ashamed for not stopping to help a female passenger who fell into the gutter as they both tried to escape. He says all this while reassembling his phone.

You both still think it is a network problem. Hours later, you can’t sleep. You receive an SMS from a friend in Douala: Has your Internet been cut off too? she asks. It dawns on you that this may actually be it; the government may actually have cut off Internet access. You two laugh. Crazy people! you remark. How long can this last? Douala, the economic capital, needs Internet access or else businesses will crash. Heck, everyone needs Internet access.

You two discuss the government’s lack of foresight until you fall asleep. The next morning you learn that the other regions had their Internet restored overnight. Just the two Anglophone regions where protests had occurred, just the people who had complained about marginalisation, had been cut off. As if to further confirm their claims…

Continue reading on This is Africa

By Monique Kwachou

Credit picture: Federico Scoppa/Getty Images.

Tanzania: Is our media legislation from Uzbekistan?

The Tanzania government has over the past couple of years been outdoing itself in trying to make sure that the little media space that exists in the country is dead and buried. Alas, it may succeed.

President John Magufuli has revealed himself to be a particularly anti-democratic ruler by attacking any and all institutions that provide breathing space for healthy dialogue to take place. He has effectively banned politics except in a few exceptional cases that he has himself prescribed.

He has sought to constrict parliamentary practice, and he has publicly called on members of the judiciary to do what he says. The attack on the media has to be seen as the proverbial nail in the coffin of democracy in this country.

I have over the years called on Tanzanians to be vigilant and protect jealously any gains won in the pro-democracy struggle, warning time and again that nothing that has been achieved can be considered irreversible. Now I realise that even I had not fully understood what I was talking about.

In addition to a draconian law against cyberspace infractions passed earlier, our absentminded legislators have passed the so-called Media Services Act (MSA) of 2016, which should have been called the Media Suppression Act. Upon reading this obnoxious piece of legislation, I asked one Member of Parliament whether they had imported the Stalinist law from Kyrgyzstan or Uzbekistan; he seemed clueless as to what I was on about.

I mean, just imagine that an information minister who does not know information from his elbow is, along with his director, empowered to decide who is a journalist and who is not, by registering them and deregistering them at will; that defamation, which everybody knows to belong in the realm of civil litigation as a tort, is criminalised; that no one anywhere may communicate information about floods in their village or an invasion by locusts unless they hold a journalism diploma and are registered with the government; that the publication of fake news can earn one up to five years of incarceration plus hefty fines; that the government can decide what information every media outlet must carry “in the national interest…”

In the early 1990s, Chief Justice Nyalali (now deceased) advised the government to repeal some 40 laws that he found “oppressive.” The government has since ignored him royally, and instead they have chosen to enact laws that are worse than the 40 Nyalali wanted struck out. If you complain against these mild laws, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Magufuli’s approach seems to be to clear the bush so that he remains the only show in town. He has dismissed out of hand suggestions that he revive the stalled constitutional process, which his predecessor, Jakaya Kikwete, initiated and then killed, stating, “Let me straighten the country first,” oblivious to the wisdom that no one person can “straighten” a country on their own.

Continue reading on The East African

By Jenerali Ulimwengu

Jenerali Ulimwengu is chairman of the board of the Raia Mwema newspaper and an advocate of the High Court in Dar es Salaam.

How to cover Eritrea

Eritrea has expelled all international correspondents and banned local private newspapers since 2001. One consequence is that Western media have had to play up their “unique” or “rare” access to “the North Korea of Africa.” Over the last two years, some leading media–having gone through endless bureaucratic hassles and rejections–such as the BBC, France 24,  The Wall Street Journal, and The New York Times  have covered Eritrea.

 Some independent journalists have (dis)covered Eritrea too. For many of us who lived our entire lives in the country, of course nothing is nearly revealing apart from their “sensational” stories.  (An exception was the The New Yorker’s coverage in December of a mass defection by members of the Eritrean national team.)

Reporting on Eritrea has reduced into a standard template: it starts with description of how clean and peaceful the capital city, Asmara is (there is also emphasis on its Italian colonial legacy, here reduced to architecture and café culture), inhabited by friendly people. This is usually followed by long descriptions of the palm-tree-lined streets of the capital; disproportionate part on the capital’s art-deco and futuristic buildings; some confused and contradictory notes on the overcrowded cafes (with a note of the recent mass-exodus), visits to the remnants of war tanks near Asmara (linking it with the bloody war of independence) and at last interviewing the usual suspects, media-friendly officials such as Yemane Ghebreab, the ruling party’s political affairs and presidential advisor and the minister of information, Yemane Gebremeskel. The latter two get to dole out their regular scripts of “we are in emergency state and the international community should pressure Ethiopia to demarcate the borders.”

Before the recent “opening-up” policy, during the tenure of Ali Abdu, former information minister who later absconded and sought asylum in Australia, many international media were allowed around Independence Day (in May) where they would strictly be escorted by the journalists of the ministry of information and end up only interviewing the President. Recently, however, Yemane Ghebreab would direct the show with an extensive briefing of each person to be interviewed beforehand, including the seemingly random “taxi drivers.” The guides-cum-interpreters are of course recruited by the party.

As has consistently been the case, many Eritreans outrightly decline to be interviewed, especially by TV stations. Among the chief reasons are the institutionalized fear hammered by Eritrean national media that every expatriate, especially from the West, is as “a CIA agent” and want to destabilize Eritrea. Such narration has been inculcated among average citizens and it is very common in Eritrean cities, for random people to stop a foreigner from taking photos. This is coupled with possible warnings of government escorts before any interview where they traditionally instruct subjects what to say. Of course there is also the language barrier as English is the language of instruction in schools, but not widely spoken in the country unlike many countries of Africa.

Not to mention the possible reprisal if someone openly criticizes the system be it inside or out of the country, most international correspondents also miss out on Eritrea’s closed culture. Let alone with random international journalists, even among family members between home and the diaspora, hardly do many Eritreans openly share the difficulties they are going through. The usual response is “everything is going well.”

Continue reading on Africa is a country

By Abraham T. Zere

Credit picture: Afp/Getty Images.

Life in No-Internet Cameroon

The English-speaking regions of Cameroon have been facing a government-ordered Internet shutdown since 17 January. This shutdown was imposed in the wake of ongoing strikes, violence and protests against the continued marginalisation of English-speakers. Monique Kwachou describes life in No-Internet Cameroon.

It used to be difficult to explain that there were two Cameroons. At conferences, international round tables where Africans and Afro-inquisitive Westerners would swap stories, as well as questions and assumptions about each other’s countries, you would often have to debunk the myth that you were fluent in French by virtue of being Cameroonian and being called Monique.

It would take too long to explain the invisible divide of that Picot Line. This problem, which has since either been ignored or normalised, would be too broad to broach. So you limit your comments on your country to corruption, the president’s everlasting reign, conveniently patriarchal cultural ‘values’ – issues all Africans understand and face, unfortunately, irrespective of their country of origin.

But recently your government has made it easier to explain that there are two Cameroons. They somehow found that dividing line that no one would acknowledge existed and now it is clear: There is Internet Cameroon and No-Internet Cameroon, that is, La Republic du Cameroun, which gained independence from French rule on 1 January 1960, and former British Southern Cameroons, which gained independence by merging with ‘long lost brothers’ on 1 October 1961.

Now when your colleagues from other countries ask you about Cameroon, it is easier to explain the problem that has long been ignored and subdued. Easier, not easy. The issues of who and what you identify as remains as complex as ever. Now your colleagues ask you, how are you coping? What is it like living under an Internet ban? You attempt to help them envisage it. Imagine this, you say:

So, what is it like?

It is 7pm. Just two hours earlier news had broken of the government banning the associations at the forefront of the longest and largest strikes in recent national history. Now you are reading reports online, stating that some of the leaders of the strike (and one of the now banned associations) have been arrested.

Upon reading this you feel alarmed. You attempt calling those you know to check on their well-being. Your call doesn’t go through. You try reaching out to mutual friends and family online to discuss your fears and ascertain their safety, but your messages keep loading.

You can’t see the tick next to your WhatsApp messages, the one that would confirm that they had been delivered. You assume it is the network; that the lines are probably crammed as the news of arrests sends everyone scurrying to call their loved ones. Things will surely escalate. And they do. You see cars held up on the road just outside your window – bikers have taken to blocking the roads with burning tires and abandoned cars to show their displeasure. You hear shots being fired into the air, the police descending with tear gas.

People try to park their cars on the pavements to hide in the safety of neighboring buildings like the one you live in. Others use the opportunity to loot and steal – you see them running with gas bottles stolen from the local gas station. You have dismantled your phone and reassembled it twice, removing and replacing your SIM card, restarting it, feeling confident that the network will return so you can check in with your loved ones or follow updates on the situation.

Continue reading on Allafrica.com

By Monique Kwachou (source: This is Africa)

Credit picture: Afp/Getty Iamges.

ICT Signals the Cradle of Radio’s Rebirth

Nairobi – Each year on February 13, World Radio Day, the UN brings attention to the humble wireless, which was invented back in 1895, more than 100 years before the World Wide Web was created in 1990. Over the last few decades, radio has played an important role in the realm of development. It has enabled the distribution of information on new policies, technology, products, and ideas with the potential of stimulating growth and development, largely in rural Africa.

Radio acquired the capacity to reach a mass audience in the period following World War I and grew steadily to become a powerful medium of communication. In just a couple of decades, it would equal, and eventually overtake the newspaper in popularity. In the long term, radio also grew from being a mere source of war propaganda and entertainment to being a credible source of news for all sectors of society.

With the coming of the information age however, reference to radio with regards to communication has dropped drastically with few people today appreciating the impact the advent of radio had in the twentieth century. The World Wide Web a much bigger technological breakthrough dwarfs the historical positioning enjoyed by radio in the last century. Many have even argued that the internet has swallowed much of radio’s territory and will soon preside over its farewell party.

In the contrary, Kenya’s case depicts a fruitful collaboration between radio broadcasting and one of the fastest growing information and communication technology sectors in Africa.  The capacity for radio to disseminate programmes to audiences beyond its attributed frequencies has been enhanced.

Kenya continues to experience growth in the ICT sector and has a growing number of broadcasting stations. According to the Communications Authority of Kenya (CAK) mobile penetration stands at  88 percent while its internet penetration is the highest in Africa at 68 percent.The increase in internet bandwidth capacity has bolstered the growth in internet connection and of mobile subscriptions.  There exists an upward trend with mobile handsets not only becoming the medium for communication but also for accessing other value added services like data and internet, entertainment, mobile money transfer as well as radio.

Continue reading on Ips Africa

By Ann Therese Ndong Jatta and Haron Mwangi

Picture credit: Roberto Schmidt/Getty images