The Slow Revolt: Why Kenyans Are Quietly Abandoning Safaricom

For more than two decades, Safaricom has occupied a position most companies can only dream of.

It is not merely Kenya's largest telecommunications company. It is a national institution.

Its network reaches places government services often struggle to reach. Its M-Pesa platform—the world's first massively successful mobile phone-based money transfer service—transformed how money moves across the country. Its annual results command more attention than those of many listed companies combined. For millions of Kenyans, owning a Safaricom line has long been less of a choice and more of a necessity.

Yet beneath the surface, something appears to be changing.

The shift is subtle. There are no dramatic protests. No boycott campaigns. No angry crowds gathering outside Safaricom House.

Instead, there is a quiet migration taking place.

One by one, customer by customer, an increasing number of Kenyans are beginning to ask a question that would have sounded absurd a decade ago:

"Do I really need Safaricom?"

The Untouchable Giant

To understand the significance of that question, one must first appreciate the scale of Safaricom's dominance.

For years, the company enjoyed advantages that competitors could only envy.

Its extensive network coverage gave it a substantial edge. Its brand commanded enormous trust. Most importantly, M-Pesa created a powerful ecosystem that kept customers locked in.

The logic was simple:

If everyone you know uses Safaricom, you use Safaricom too.

If your employer sends money through M-Pesa, you keep a Safaricom line.

If merchants accept M-Pesa payments, switching becomes inconvenient.

This network effect created a self-reinforcing cycle that competitors struggled to break.

Many tried.

Most failed.

The Price Question

Dominance, however, comes with risks.

One of them is complacency.

Speak to ordinary Kenyans today and a recurring complaint emerges almost immediately.

Cost.

Data bundles disappear too quickly.

Voice packages seem less attractive than they once were.

And then it gets worse.

The GoK's 2026-2027 budget proposals primarily affect M-Pesa by introducing a controversial 16% Value Added Tax (VAT) on the fees and commissions charged by digital payment platforms.

If fully implemented, this levy will stack on top of the existing 15% excise duty on mobile money transactions, significantly raising transfer costs.

Customers increasingly feel they are paying premium prices for services that no longer feel premium.

Whether these perceptions are entirely accurate is almost beside the point.

Consumer behaviour is driven by perception as much as reality.

And perception matters.

When customers begin scrutinising every shilling spent on airtime, data and mobile money charges, loyalty becomes far more fragile than it once was.

The economic realities facing many households have only intensified this scrutiny.

A family struggling with rising food prices, rent increases, fuel costs and higher taxes inevitably begins searching for savings wherever they can find them.

Telecommunications expenses are no exception.

The Airtel Challenge

If there is one company benefiting from this changing mood, it is Airtel.

For years, Airtel occupied an awkward position in Kenya's telecommunications landscape.

It was large enough to be recognised but rarely large enough to seriously threaten Safaricom's supremacy.

That appears to be changing.

Aggressive pricing strategies have helped Airtel position itself as the value alternative.

Its data bundles often attract favourable comparisons.

Its investment in network expansion has reduced some of the coverage disadvantages that historically discouraged customers from switching.

Most importantly, Airtel has discovered a powerful marketing message.

You do not need to convince people to love Airtel.

You simply need to convince them they are paying too much elsewhere.

That argument be comes increasingly persuasive during periods of economic hardship.

The Rise of the Dual-SIM Kenyan

Interestingly, the revolt is not always visible in subscriber statistics.

Many Kenyans are not abandoning Safaricom completely.

They are hedging their bets.

The modern Kenyan smartphone frequently contains two SIM cards.

One remains Safaricom.

The other belongs to Airtel.

This arrangement allows consumers to retain access to M-Pesa while taking advantage of cheaper calls and data elsewhere.

On paper, Safaricom retains the customer.

In practice, however, it may be losing a growing share of that customer's spending.

This is where the real battle is taking place.

Not over subscriber numbers.

Over wallet share.

M-Pesa's Double-Edged Sword

No discussion of Safaricom can ignore M-Pesa.

It remains one of Africa's most successful technological innovations and arguably the single biggest reason Safaricom achieved its dominant position.

Yet the very success of M-Pesa may now present a strategic challenge.

Many younger consumers increasingly rely on alternatives.

Banking apps have improved dramatically.

Digital wallets are becoming more sophisticated.

Instant transfers between banks are increasingly common.

The monopoly M-Pesa once enjoyed over digital transactions is no longer absolute.

This does not mean M-Pesa is disappearing.

Far from it.

But it does mean that some of the barriers preventing customers from exploring alternatives are gradually weakening.

The Arrogance Problem

Every dominant company eventually faces the same danger.

Not competition.

Arrogance.

History is littered with corporate giants that mistook market leadership for permanent entitlement.

Kodak believed photography belonged to Kodak.

Nokia believed mobile phones belonged to Nokia.

BlackBerry believed business communication belonged to BlackBerry.

Consumers eventually reminded them otherwise.

And then the the bottom fell off.

During the 2024 Gen Z-led Reject Finance Bill protests, Safaricom faced severe public backlash for its alleged complicity in state-sponsored terrorism.

On June 25, 2024, the police opened fire on protesters and chaos erupted in Nairobi suburbs like Githurai—leading to what activists termed the "Githurai massacre."

In the immediate aftermath of the overnight shooting spree, widespread panic on social media led to unverified claims that over 200 people were killed and their bodies hidden or surreptitiously cremated at the nearby Kahawa Barracks.

And all this happened against the backdrop of Safaricom shutting down the Internet, ostensibly on the orders of the Ruto government.

While global watchdogs like NetBlocks challenged the physical basis of the disruption, Safaricom vehemently denied intentional censorship or sharing live subscriber location data to facilitate police abductions, blaming the timing on "simultaneous undersea fiber cable cuts."

In the immediate aftermath, the firm launched corporate social responsibility programs, including specialised medical camps in Githurai, in an effort to repair its heavily damaged reputation among young consumers. But the horse had already bolted from the barn.

In the end, the lesson is not that Safaricom faces imminent collapse. Such predictions would be absurd.

The lesson is that dominance can create blind spots.

When customers complain repeatedly about prices, service quality or value for money, dismissing those concerns as background noise becomes dangerous.

The market often whispers before it shouts.

Why This Matters

This story extends beyond Safaricom.

What is unfolding reflects a broader shift in Kenyan consumer behaviour.

Brand loyalty is weakening.

Economic pressures are intensifying.

Consumers are becoming more price-conscious, more informed and less willing to remain loyal simply because that is what they have always done.

The era of automatic customer retention is ending.

Businesses that fail to recognise this reality may discover that market leadership is easier to lose than to build.

Final Verdict

Safaricom remains Kenya's telecommunications giant.

Its network remains formidable.

Its profits remain substantial.

Its brand remains one of the strongest in Africa.

Yet beneath those impressive statistics, a quiet rebellion appears to be taking shape.

It is not loud enough to dominate headlines.

Not yet.

It is occurring in households comparing bundle prices, in commuters purchasing second SIM cards, in students searching for cheaper data, and in businesses questioning every operating cost.

Each individual decision seems insignificant.

Taken together, however, they tell a completely different story.

The question is no longer whether Kenyans can survive without Safaricom.

The question is how many are beginning to realise that they can.

And if enough people reach that conclusion, the slow revolt may not remain slow for much longer.