Online Reporter
Dr Evans Sagomba
Everything AI
NEARLY half of the new smartphones sold across Africa last year came from a single manufacturer. That fact alone should make us sit up and take notice.
What the recent research into those devices reveals is more than a technical a mere privacy breach; it is a matter that touches on sovereignty and the dignity of ordinary people who carry these phones in their pockets.
For Zimbabweans, who have embraced mobile technology as a lifeline for banking, communication and work, the findings are a wake up call.
Independent researchers and a mobile security firm examined the software inside a popular model and found a persistent system that collects a steady stream of behavioural and location data. This is not the kind of anonymous, aggregated information that helps app developers improve performance. It is precise, continuous and tied to permanent device identifiers that cannot be reset.
The system records which app is in use, when the camera is activated, the phone’s exact location and even which mobile money services are being accessed.
Because the component is embedded at the system level, ordinary users cannot remove it, and standard privacy settings do not stop it. In short, the phone itself becomes a constant reporter of a person’s life.
There are two ways to look at this. One is to focus on the technical details and argue about encryption, servers and cloud providers. Those debates matter, but they are not the whole story.
The other, and more important, perspective is human. What does it mean for a person’s dignity when the devices they rely on to work, learn and care for their families are quietly sending intimate traces of their lives to distant servers? How do we protect the vulnerable, the poor and the marginalised when the tools that have opened doors for them also expose them to unseen surveillance?
Mobile phones have been a force for good across Africa. They have widened access to financial services through mobile money, connected farmers to markets, and given young people a platform for learning and creativity. The success of affordable, locally tailored devices is part of that story. Manufacturers who design phones for local needs, long battery life, dual SIMs, cameras that work well in low light, have helped millions join the digital world.
That success, however, brings responsibility. When a single company’s software becomes ubiquitous, the choices that company makes about data collection and user control have continent wide consequences.
We must also consider the geopolitical dimension. The servers that receive the data may be hosted in different countries, and ownership structures can be complex. National security laws in some jurisdictions can compel companies to hand over data to state authorities.
Even if the immediate technical hop is outside a particular country, the potential for onward transfer and access remains. For citizens, the question is simple: who can see the record of my movements, my communications and my use of financial services?
If the answer is anyone beyond my control, then we have a problem that goes beyond commerce and into the realm of rights.
There are practical steps that individuals and communities can take. Network level blocking tools can prevent devices from reaching certain domains, and organisations can deploy filters to protect their networks. But these measures are technical, uneven and often beyond the reach of ordinary users. They are not a substitute for clear regulation, corporate accountability and public awareness. We cannot expect every parish, school or small business to become a cybersecurity expert overnight.
What is needed is a national conversation that brings together government, industry, civil society, the Church and ordinary citizens.
Zimbabwe has a strong tradition of moral reflection and public debate. Our bishops, theologians and faith communities have long spoken about the dignity of the human person and the common good.
Those voices are essential now. Ethical questions about technology are not abstract; they are about how we live together, how we protect the vulnerable and how we ensure that progress serves people rather than the other way around.
Regulation must catch up with reality. Data protection laws should be robust, clear and enforceable.
They should require meaningful consent, limit the collection of data to what is strictly necessary, and give individuals the right to know who holds their information and for what purpose. Where devices are sold with embedded telemetry that cannot be disabled, regulators should demand transparency and user control. Companies that profit from our markets must be held to standards that protect citizens’ rights.
Corporate responsibility matters too. Manufacturers who design for local markets should be proud of their role in expanding access, but pride must be matched by accountability. If a company’s software collects data in ways that users cannot control, that company should explain why, provide clear opt outs and offer tools that restore user agency. Where data is transferred across borders, companies should be transparent about the destinations and the legal frameworks that apply. Silence and obfuscation are not acceptable.
There is also a role for the Church and faith communities in this conversation. Catholic social teaching has long insisted that technology must serve the human person and the common good. That moral framework is a powerful resource for public debate. It reminds us that economic success is not the only measure of progress; respect for human dignity, truth and solidarity must guide our choices. When bishops and parish leaders speak about the ethical use of technology, they bring a perspective that is both pastoral and public, rooted in care for people rather than profit.
Education is another vital piece. People need to know what their devices do and what choices they can make. Digital literacy programmes should include clear, practical advice about privacy, consent and safe use of mobile services. Schools, universities and community groups can help demystify the technology and empower citizens to demand better from manufacturers and service providers.
We must not lose sight of the human cost when technology is treated as neutral. Behind every data point is a person: a mother checking her child’s school fees, a trader sending money to a supplier, a young person applying for a job. When those actions are tracked and tied to permanent identifiers, the risk of harm is real. It is not only about targeted advertising or analytics; it is about the possibility of exclusion, discrimination and loss of autonomy.
The story of Africa’s smartphone boom is one of ingenuity and hope. It is also a story that now requires careful stewardship. We should celebrate the gains while insisting on safeguards that protect our people.
That means stronger laws, clearer corporate practices, public education and moral leadership. It means asking hard questions about who benefits from the data that flows from our devices and ensuring that the answer is not simply a distant corporation or an opaque server, but the people whose lives are being recorded. If we are to keep technology on the side of human dignity, we must act together.
The Church, the state, industry and civil society all have parts to play. Let us use the momentum of our digital transformation to build systems that respect privacy, promote justice and serve the common good. In doing so, we will not only protect our citizens; we will affirm the kind of society we want to be, one where progress is measured by how it honours the dignity of every person.
