We don’t talk about it enough, but African tech has a leadership problem. Too often, we mistake charisma for capability and control for strength. The result is that a culture of strongmen has flourished in an industry meant to be defined by innovation, collaboration, and long-term impact.
This isn’t a coincidence. Across much of Africa, political history is written in the image of the strongman: presidents-for-life, revolutionary leaders who never step down, and decisions that hinge on a single person rather than strong institutions. And now, too many startups are mirroring the same brittle model — centralised, personality-driven, and hostile to dissent.
There’s a myth in African business that volatility requires strongmen, that only centralised authority can survive when markets are chaotic and institutions are weak. But that myth has a cost. We’ve inherited a broken playbook from strongman regimes and repackaged it as visionary leadership. If politics leaves nations brittle, startups must demonstrate that resilience is possible when institutions, not individuals, bear the weight.
The strongman problem in African tech
Time and again, when promising startups begin to unravel, the same figure is often at the centre of the collapse: the strongman leader. Charismatic. Visionary. Often brilliant. But also unwilling to share authority, allergic to dissent, and incapable of separating personal ego from institutional health.
At first, the model seems to work. Decisions are fast. The vision is clear. Everyone rallies around a single will. But this efficiency hides a dangerous fragility: the entire enterprise becomes dependent on one person’s temperament.
The strongman believes control means keeping all decisions close. But what I’ve seen as an investor and operator looks very different:
- Talent leaves because creativity withers when initiative is punished and decisions are second-guessed.
- Investors disengage when financials are hidden, board oversight is resented, and trust evaporates.
- Customers drift away when internal dysfunction bleeds into service quality and delivery.
Strongman leadership isn’t just flawed. It’s a ceiling. It limits how far a company can go, because no one can build something truly scalable if they need to control everything.
When pressure hits
You don’t see the cracks in calm waters. But leadership is tested in crisis.
In our portfolio, the difference between strongman-led firms and steward-led companies became painfully clear when recent currency devaluations hit Nigeria, Ghana, Kenya, Egypt, and others.
Stewards had empowered finance teams, built cultures of transparency, and distributed decision-making. They adapted quickly, hedging exposure, adjusting pricing, and communicating candidly with investors. They were resilient.
Strongman-led firms froze. Everyone waited for a single person’s decision. Precious time was lost. Opportunities disappeared. Some companies never recovered.
The lesson is clear: strongman leadership can win headlines, but it rarely builds companies that endure.
When control becomes harm
Authoritarian leadership doesn’t just block good governance. It often slips into abuse.
I’ve heard employees describe bosses who send messages at 2 a.m. and expect replies within minutes; meetings often turn into public humiliation, leave is frowned upon, and disagreement is punished.
The justification? “This is war. This is how we win in Africa.”
But intimidation is not leadership. Abuse is not grit. And cruelty, no matter how brilliant its source, does not build enduring companies.
The damage lasts. Talented young Africans leave their first jobs with scars, not skills. They carry anxiety to their next roles, or worse, replicate the same behaviours. The result? A broken pipeline of future leaders.
I’ve seen it most clearly in product teams. Instead of building creative product managers, we produce glorified project administrators trained to anticipate the founder’s moods. Engineers stop experimenting and start coding to order. The boldest hires leave disillusioned. Those who stay learn obedience, not ownership.
Stewardship in practice
Founders who want to build lasting companies need a different playbook. Stewardship isn’t abstract. It’s practical:
- Make truth-telling safe: Your best engineers, PMs, or sales leads must feel free to tell you when something is broken, when a product isn’t landing, or when a strategy won’t work. If they fear punishment, the company will build on lies. Strong companies are built on uncomfortable truths.
- Share the “why”: Too many startups in Africa are built around directives — “ship this feature by Friday” — without explaining the reason behind them. When founders explain the why, they don’t just get execution; they build judgment. And judgment is what turns employees into future founders.
- Build redundancy into leadership: In volatile markets like Nigeria, Ghana, or Kenya, shocks are inevitable: currency devaluations, regulatory changes, and policy U-turns. Companies where decision-making rests on one person freeze in crises. Companies that distribute authority respond faster.
- Reward builders, not only firefighters: African tech glorifies the hustler, the person who fixes outages at midnight. But if you only reward firefighting, you never build systems that prevent the fires. Stewards invest in process and celebrate those who quietly strengthen the foundation.
- Mentor for values, not just skills: One reason we struggle to grow quality PMs, engineers, and designers is that most companies don’t model the values of curiosity, creativity, and customer obsession. Leaders must personally mentor for these values. Otherwise, the next generation will only know how to take instructions, not how to innovate.
These principles don’t slow companies down. They make them more agile because more people are empowered to act, and more perspectives shape the path forward. That’s the real competitive edge in chaotic markets.
The legacy question
If you’re a founder reading this, take this as an invitation, not a condemnation. None of us gets leadership right all the time. But growth begins with honesty.
This isn’t about perfection, but recognising that leadership must evolve from command to collaboration, from control to trust, from self to legacy.
So ask yourself:
- Do I make decisions alone, or have I built a team I trust to challenge me?
- When things go wrong, do I take responsibility or find someone to blame?
- Can my company thrive without me?
- Do people feel safe disagreeing with me?
- Do I give my board the transparency I demand from my team?
- Am I grooming future stewards or future strongmen?
These aren’t easy questions. But they’re the right ones.
Because the founders who will be remembered aren’t the ones who clung to power the longest, they’re the ones who built something that endured.
African tech can do better. We must do better. Our continent doesn’t need more strongmen and tyrants.
It needs architects, builders, and stewards.
The ones who plant trees they may never sit under.
The ones who build homes where others can dwell.
About the author
Toni Campbell is the Founder and Managing Partner at Kinfolk Venture Capital. The firm has previously invested in African startups such as Norebase, Bento, and Yassir.