#OutToLunch What other sectors can learn from fintech startups

By Denis Jjuuko

Ugandan and indeed African companies or startups as they are usually called especially in the fintech sector have been on a roll — raising money that wasn’t even previously seen in donor aid programmes. You have probably seen billboards all over Kampala and its suburbs of companies like Chipper Cash or taxis with rear windows branded Wave. Chipper Cash raised some US$250 million last year and Wave attracted US$200 million in September.

Even those that were not necessarily fintech such as Safe Boda got US$50 million from Google (although they are pivoting towards fintech) and Rocket Health which made a lot of inroads during Covid-19 lockdowns by providing home-based and telemedicine solutions recently announced that they had received some US$5 million. There are many others such as Flutterwave, Zembo and Treepz that are getting investor’s money to expand.

In 2020, African startups raised between US$1.3 billion and US$1.5 billion in venture capital. The number for 2021 is believed to be between US$4.5 billion and US$5 billion according to TechTrunch, a technology website that monitors funding in the tech sector.

This kind of interest in African startups is raising young people’s appetite for innovation knowing that they don’t necessarily need to be based in Silcon Valley to attract funding. Of course, the definition of what is an African startup is still out there for debate as some of these businesses aren’t actually owned by Africans rather by people interested in doing business on the continent.

Africa is home to some 1.4 billion people (same population as China) with a median age of 19. Companies like Liquid Technologies are rolling out the internet across the continent while Google and Facebook are working on undersea cables that will further enable more people to connect to the internet.

However, when the time for reaping the profits comes, Africans may not be able to get much since most of this funding is coming from outside the continent. African investors including our beloved swindlers of public funds (since they have been urged to invest the loot at home) need to look at this sector as well. What is it that foreign venture capital firms are seeing on the continent that we aren’t seeing? I don’t think they are just investing for the sake of it. And it might be late by the time we wake up.

Telecom companies providing mobile money services at extortionist rates will soon be looking over their shoulders. It is a matter of time before startups with millions of dollars in funding start eating into their profits but that is an article for another day.

The interest in the tech sector especially fintech by these venture capital firms reminded me of somebody who had an initial meeting with some telecom company that wanted to bring mobile phones in East Africa but never thought it was an idea that would take the region by storm. He missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime.

But also what can other entrepreneurs learn from the venture capital interest on the continent. I haven’t heard much interest in other sectors beyond fintech and technology generally. How do we attract funding in other sectors?

Sectors such as food processing, manufacturing, logistics, and construction need this kind of funding the fintech sector is attracting. Unlike fintech, these sectors will employ much more people on the continent and attract other sectors. For example, where one creates a factory, the real estate sector develops so employees can get housing, supermarkets and even banks set up to serve these employees. Manufacturing by its nature creates a lot of direct and indirect jobs.

There is need for African policy makers and entrepreneurs to understand what attracts large sums of money to the fintech startups and replicate it elsewhere. Africa today must be having the cheapest labour force anywhere in the world and many of these people are easily trainable for the repetitive jobs that manufacturing provides.

If a manufacturing business in Uganda attracted US$250 million in funding, it would actually set up a large factory and employ hundreds of people with sustainable jobs. It’s effect on the economy would be huge. I remember a few years ago, one of the biggest manufacturing companies in Uganda wanted to expand and got a syndicated loan from a few banks in Uganda of just US$100 million, which they used to set up their plant. So imagine the scale a manufacturer would reach with US$250 million in a country like Uganda. It is time for sectors to learn from fintech and attract venture capital.

The writer is a communication and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com.

Tags: African startups, Chipper cash, Denis Jjuuko, Out to Lunch, Safe boda, Telecom companies

Out to Lunch

#OutToLunch: Make cylinders of 1kg, 2kg if gas is to replace charcoal

By Denis Jjuuko On a trip to northern Uganda some years ago, I asked the transport team to provide a sports utility vehicle (SUV). I prefer SUVs for long journeys as they are more comfortable and can handle the terrain. We were to spend a week traversing the breadth of northern Uganda. It didn’t take long to realize that some of the people I was traveling with were unhappy but I couldn’t put a finger to it. I thought maybe they didn’t want to make the trip. Along the way, the driver pointed to a roadside makeshift market and said in Luganda, “laba emaali,” loosely translated as look at money while pointing at sacks of charcoal that were packed beyond the rims with a fibre net holding the extra black pieces together. That is when my colleagues said that I have made them miss returning to Kampala with charcoal. That I should have asked the transport team to provide a pickup truck. “We are not ministers to travel in this kind of car,” another angrily quipped. I was ably informed that a sack of charcoal cost a fraction of what the traders in Kampala charged. I understood their sentiments. I offered lunch and dinner for the weeklong trip, arguing that they can use that saving to buy charcoal when they returned to Kampala. I ceased being a fan of buying stuff along our highways to return with to Kampala after realizing that prices quoted by traders or vendors depended entirely on the car you drive and how you look but that is another story. Also, I have never been a fan of charcoal. I find it expensive, easily wastable by households, dirty and cumbersome to use. After that trip, I understood the place charcoal occupies in people’s hearts and households. It wasn’t, therefore, surprising when panic engulfed Ugandans especially the urban dwellers when there was an announcement that charcoal had been banned in Uganda ostensibly to protect the environment. Social media went gaga. Parliament swiftly stepped in and advised the government to give it a week by presenting its comprehensive plan. Charcoal is a byproduct of trees and many have been felled to make it. Truckloads of it used to dominate certain routes to urban areas. Many roadside kiosk owners survived by vending charcoal. We have just experienced a severe drought in Uganda and I believe that many people won’t have food to eat in a few months. I perfectly understand why government wants to ban it. As somebody who isn’t a fan of it, I have no tears to shed to be honest. But that would be selfish. The majority of households can’t afford the alternatives — electricity and gas or even briquettes. Beyond price, both forms of energy also have distribution limitations in Uganda. Liquefied petroleum gas in Uganda is largely sold in cylinders of 6kgs and 12kgs. If you don’t have a cylinder, the startup cost is approximately Shs170,000 for 6kgs and Shs266,000 for a 12kg. The median monthly income in Uganda is Shs200,000! What makes charcoal the preferred choice by at least many urban households is because with Shs1,000, one can get a palmful of it which they can use to cook something. Many of our people don’t earn a predictable regular income. They wake up, go to work (if they find it) and are paid per a day or work done. Once they get that money, they can buy some charcoal of Shs1,000 and some maize flour or a few fingers of Matooke and prepare the day’s meal. They can’t afford to spend more than their monthly income on the gas equipment. There was a time government distributed some gas cylinders freely. I believe that at Shs60,000 for a 6kg and Shs112,000 for a 12kg for a refill respectively, the majority of our people can’t afford it. Gas cylinders even if distributed for free will most likely end up as decorative materials. What then can be done? Government must or support the private sector to make gas cylinders of 1kg or 2kg which means that the majority of households can afford to refill at Shs10,000 for a 1kg or Shs20,000 for a 2kg or even lower. That is why manufacturers of consumer goods like sugar or cooking oil don’t sell only 25kgs or 5 litres respectively. They sell in small quantities that the majority can afford. Our people buy sugar by spoonful, diapers by a piece, eat beans but ask the restaurant to add in meat soup (because they can’t afford meat). They can only afford gas by a kilo or a half not 6 or 12kgs. The writer is a communications and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

November 3, 2026

Out to Lunch

#OutToLunch: Medical apprenticeship programs critical in improving diagnosis and treatment

By Denis Jjuuko You probably know somebody who after trying many healthcare facilities, they were told there was nothing wrong with them and they should go back home. The symptoms persisted though and the more facilities they visited, the more they were told the same. Sometimes they were given painkillers to psychologically manage them. Desperate, they visited a traditional healer whose Thursday clinic deep in the village is thronged by many people who share similar experiences. The healer is basking in glory. He saved so and so; his marketing team disguising themselves as waiting clients assure them. After a few months of some relief, the pain comes back and this time more excruciating. But since they tried everything and failed, they give up and wait to die. And indeed, they die. At their funeral, we claim that it was God’s plan! Well, if you don’t know anyone who has gone through that, at least you heard of King Oyo’s story. The now deceased Tooro Kingdom leader visited some high-end hospitals in Kampala after feeling persistent backpain. X-rays, MRI scans later, they told him they saw nothing. Being a person of means, he flew to a hospital in Nairobi where he was diagnosed with cancer. A year later he was dead. What did the people in Nairobi saw that the Kampala ones couldn’t? Well, Nairobi has a PET Scan or a few. Kampala and the whole of Uganda don’t. A PET Scan costs about US$3m or approximately 17 Landcruisers. If there was a meeting of government officials, you would run out of space to park them. That is how many we have in Uganda but a PET Scan is not something we have been able to buy and install yet. But it isn’t just the lack of technology that is a problem. You can have a PET Scan and still fail to diagnose a patient properly. Patients aren’t sent for a PET Scan on their first visit to a clinic as it is rarely used as a diagnostic test rather one that determines an extent of the disease. Other tests have to be done. And still a diagnosis can be missed depending on who has done the scan or X-ray and the reading of the results. If for example a child has a bone tumor, a pediatric radiologist would probably pick up the first signs that an adult radiologist may easily miss. Even then, the doctors who ordered the tests and other specialists can sit as a group and discuss what they are seeing. They may even disagree. After that, they could order for a biopsy and eventually a PET Scan if it is needed. You see, that means that you need to have a team of specialists with not only adequate training but also experience that exposed them to a diverse spectrum of patient diseases and how to diagnose them. If you only train in Uganda and practice in Uganda for a year or two, it is most likely you won’t be able to diagnose many diseases even with advanced technologies at your disposal. Doctors in Europe struggle to diagnose and even treat malaria, which is many times chicken feed to Ugandan doctors. When did your doctor last consult anyone before prescribing drugs? Most likely he or she listened to you, sent you to the lab, looked at the results and sent you to the pharmacy or told you to go back home. Isn’t that likely to lead to a wrong diagnosis? I am not saying that a team needs to look at each and every case but you get the drift. To have good doctors in Uganda, there is a need for a robust apprenticeship program so that the graduate doctors can learn from as many experts as possible. When we spend years discussing intern doctors’ wages, it means we are delaying their learning. They aren’t getting the right exposure from the seniors. And if they aren’t properly apprenticed, they will not become good doctors. There is no two ways about it. We also need to have a critical number of health workers sent elsewhere for exposure. They should learn how medicine is practiced elsewhere while getting exposed to different diseases and treatment methods. Government should be talking for example to American hospitals for medical residency. We could send some to Aga Khan in Nairobi as well. Those who are sent by government, they should be contracted and incentivized to come back to work here. The right technology and generally good working conditions should be in place. Upon return, they should train others through apprenticeships. They should spend a certain number of hours a week for a few years in public hospitals with the list of young doctors they have mentored as part of their deliverables. Ensure that those trained doctors remain in hospital wards too. This is actually cheaper than sending politically connected patients abroad for treatment because Uganda can only send so many. The writer is a communication and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

October 26, 2026

Out to Lunch

#OutToLunch: Uber’s abrupt exit calls for regulation of international brands to protect users

By Denis Jjuuko Ten years ago, Kampala was all the rage. Uber, the global taxi hailing app launched in Kampala with fanfare. The razzmatazz that comes with a global brand that promises to change the world. All our transport problems, at least in Kampala, would be sorted. It was cool to order a Uber or arrive at a fancy party in one. If you hadn’t installed the app, you were being left behind. There was no need to buy a car. Uber would sort that at the fraction of the cost. If you had a car, it was so cool to use it as a Uber on your way to or from work. And if you didn’t like your boss, you could quit your job and become your own boss as a Uber driver. It wouldn’t get any fancy than that. Some people cashed out their savings, bought a few corollas, got their cousins who had previously graduated from university and made them Uber drivers. Side hustle had never been so simple. Special hire drivers cried. Calls placed to their previous customers went unanswered. The suitor had a new lover. You were exploitative. Uber transported someone to wherever they wanted at the cost of a chapati! Some young people decided to create Uber for all sorts of things. Looking for somebody to wash your clothes over the weekend, a “uber” was created for that. Need a truck to transport something? There was a “uber” for it. Need a boda? Well, another “uber” was created before Uber itself introduced bodas. Innovation hubs were full of ideas with young people dressed in hoodies spending all their time trying to create the next Uber. To be fair, it wasn’t just in Uganda. Every new innovation has somebody trying to replicate it for another industry. With apps like Uber and AirBnB and their early global success, other platforms for gig work or sharing were created everywhere. UpWork, Fiverr, DoorDash… the list is endless. We were told the sharing economy was the new thing. That we didn’t need to own stuff. We could easily share. The problem though with international brands like Uber is that they can wake up and make a decision that affects many people. Like they did when they announced that they will no longer be available in Uganda. And within a few minutes, they were gone. They didn’t even have the courtesy to inform the drivers signed up on their app for at least a week. I believe some were even still processing the news and maybe even parked at malls waiting for clients only to realize that the application had gone mute. I believe those who hadn’t checked their communications platforms restarted their phones several times. Developing economies like Uganda shouldn’t just allow these brands to come in, do and go as they wish. They can’t just be making abrupt decisions from Silicon Valley. Why couldn’t Uber give time before exiting the country? They could have given a 90-day notice so that their drivers and customers have enough time to prepare. To operate here, the government should force them to follow some rules and regulations. Usually when they start offering service in smaller economies like ours, there is something they want which isn’t direct revenue. It is global presence that enables them to have an explosive initial public offering on the New York Stock Exchange or attract some funding. Once they achieve those goals, their mission is over and can do whatever they want especially where there is no regulation. In markets where they are regulated, they can’t just wake up and announce that they have closed. Also, the actions of brands like Uber mean that there is a need to identify our challenges and find applicable solutions. For many years, I wonder whether Uber drivers made any money. The rates were so low prompting many of them to try to negotiate out of the app. What had made Uber appealing to drivers was the near guarantee of a return trip. Unlike a special hire (cab), the driver would be able to find a customer after dropping off somebody. That increasingly became difficult yet the rates remained low. When fuel prices went up, Uber didn’t respond appropriately. Apparently, increments had to follow some policy created based on the American or western European economy. Bad roads and traffic jams were never factored in. Ugandans largely drive old cars which means that they consume a lot of fuel and susceptible to breakdowns. If the roads are potholed, maintenance and repair become costly. An unregulated global brand wouldn’t care much about that while setting rates especially when they don’t own the asset that guarantees their return (25% of each trip in the case of Uber). Regulation of global brands is critical in protecting the interests of users. The writer is a communication and visibility consultant. djjuuko@gmail.com

October 26, 2026