The ongoing debate over Kenya’s Maisha Namba digital ID system is not merely about identification, governance efficiency or the modernisation of state services. It represents something much larger — the encroachment of a new form of imperialism — digital colonialism — where technological infrastructures, often shaped by external forces, deepen existing inequalities rather than solving them.
At first glance, digital ID systems appear to be neutral tools of progress, promising efficiency, inclusion and seamless access to essential services. Governments, donors and private sector champions position these systems as critical components of digital public infrastructure, heralding a future where identification barriers are eliminated, financial services are democratised and state services are streamlined.
Yet, the Kenyan experience exposes a crucial gap in this narrative. The real question is: Whose interests are being served? And at what cost to citizens?
Kenya’s digital ID trajectory has been fraught with missteps. The Huduma Namba project, launched with much fanfare, ultimately collapsed under the weight of its own inadequacies, leaving behind a $15 billion hole and a disillusioned populace. This failure was not merely bureaucratic incompetence, it was symptomatic of a deeper issue — the prioritisation of procurement, political rent-seeking and external donor interests over the actual needs of the people.
Now, with Maisha Namba, we see the same script playing out. While the government asserts that this new iteration will be different, the core issues remain unaddressed: data security, accessibility for marginalised communities and the fundamental necessity of such a system in a country where 91% of the population already possesses identification.
If the existing Integrated Population Registration System and various mobile-based verification systems function adequately, what is the pressing need for another digital ID system?
Maisha Namba, like many digital ID projects across Africa, has received backing from global entities such as the United Nations Development Programme and the Gates Foundation. While their advisory roles may seem benign, their involvement raises concerns about how global tech governance is being shaped in the Global South.
Historically, colonial powers imposed administrative systems that served their economic interests under the guise of modernisation. Today, the extraction of data from developing economies mirrors that history except, this time, the resource being harvested is digital rather than physical.
The centralisation of biometric and demographic data in Kenya feeds into a global system where African data is commodified, analysed and leveraged by external actors. This is digital colonialism in practice — where the infrastructure is funded and shaped by powerful global entities and the benefits flow upwards while the risks remain localised. The fact that citizens have little visibility into how their data will be stored, used or shared only exacerbates this concern.
Beyond the broader geopolitical implications, digital ID systems in Kenya risk entrenching systemic exclusions. Experts have warned that Maisha Namba, like its predecessor, could deny nationality and state services to individuals over minor registration errors. In a country with significant populations of pastoralists, refugees and marginalised ethnic groups — many of whom already struggle with documentation — this system could formalise exclusion rather than remedy it.
Globally, we have seen what happens when digital ID systems fail or become tools of oppression. In India, the Aadhaar ID system has been praised for expanding financial inclusion but it has also been criticised for its role in welfare exclusions, data breaches and mass surveillance.
Closer to home, Nigeria’s National Identity Number system has similarly faced backlash over accessibility issues and privacy concerns. Kenya risks walking the same path if it does not heed these lessons.
If Kenya persists with Maisha Namba without addressing these fundamental flaws, the country could witness a dystopian future where digital identity becomes a gatekeeper rather than an enabler. The dangers of a centralised system prone to exclusion and misuse should not be taken lightly. Public trust is already low and another failure could reinforce cynicism towards government-led digital initiatives for decades to come.
On the other hand, there is an opportunity to rethink Kenya’s digital governance strategy. Rather than pursuing top-down, opaque digital ID projects, the government could focus on strengthening existing systems, decentralising data control and prioritising consent-based identity solutions. Most importantly, any digital ID initiative should be built around the principles of public participation, transparency and accountability — not external donor agendas or political expediency.
Maisha Namba is not just about IDs, it is about power, control and the kind of digital future Kenya envisions. Will it be one where digital infrastructure empowers citizens or will it be one where digital colonialism thrives, leaving citizens as mere data points in a system designed without them in mind?
The answer to this question will define the next chapter of Kenya’s digital evolution. For now, the burden of proof rests on the government to show that Maisha Namba is more than just a rebranded Huduma Namba. Until then, scepticism is not just justified — it is necessary.
Thabo Motshweni is a PhD candidate at the University of Johannesburg and a research intern at the Centre for Social Change and Centre for Sociological Research and Practice.