21 August 2026 · 6 min read
Why I'm Betting on Africa
A personal thesis on demographics, difficulty, and the returns available to people who actually turn up.
I was born in South Africa, grew up in New Zealand, and came back by choice. I now live in Jeffreys Bay. So why come back? I think that question deserves more than an answer about where I feel at home. Home matters, but sentiment is not my investment thesis. My choice reflects a view about where value will be created over the next forty years, and who will be here to build it. I’m betting on Africa because I see a gap between what people need and what is available to them. That gap is difficult. It is also where the opportunity sits.
When I say I’m betting on Africa, what am I actually saying? Not that everything here will work. Not that being early makes you right. And certainly not that a continent’s potential will somehow find its way into your bank account. I mean that I want to be present where there is meaningful work to do and value to create. There is a difference between looking at an opportunity and being able to participate in it. You can put a destination into the GPS, but you still have to drive. I don’t confuse having a view about Africa with doing the work that view requires.
The starting point is straightforward. Africa is young, it is urbanising, and it is underserved in financial services, housing, energy, education and logistics. I want you to think about what those categories actually mean. A place to live. Access to power. The ability to move goods, manage money and learn. These are not abstract themes when you need them in your own life. They are practical needs. That is what interests me. I’m not trying to find a clever story to put around something nobody really needs. I’m looking at areas where the need is already there and the provision is not enough.
But does a large need automatically make a good business? No. That is where I think we have to be careful. A need tells me there may be something worth building. It does not tell me that I can build it well, that the business will generate cash, or that the price I pay makes sense. Those are different questions. I can believe in Africa’s long-term direction and still say no to a particular opportunity. There is no contradiction in that. Belief in the wider picture is not a reason to stop thinking about the thing in front of me.
Then there is the difficulty. I don’t want to tidy that up for the sake of making the argument sound more attractive. Difficulty is high. That is part of the thesis, not a small note underneath it. Why does that matter? Because the same difficulty that makes people hesitate also helps explain why competition is thin and capable operators are scarce relative to the opportunity. The work does not become easy because fewer people are doing it. But I’m interested in that imbalance. There is a great deal that needs doing, and not enough people able and willing to do it well.
Of course, difficulty on its own is not something I want to invest in. There is no prize for choosing the hardest possible route. If something is difficult and I have no credible way of dealing with it, calling it an opportunity does not improve it. The distinction I care about is between difficulty that can be worked through by capable people and difficulty I’m simply hoping will disappear. One asks for judgement and the ability to do the work. The other asks for wishful thinking. My view on Africa depends on the first. I’m not betting that the hard parts will politely get out of the way.
So what does it mean to take the risk seriously? For me, it starts with pricing it honestly. I cannot speak at length about the upside and then treat the risk as an inconvenience in the calculation. It belongs in the calculation. A promising business can still be the wrong investment at the wrong price. And saying that does not make me less committed to Africa. It makes the commitment more grounded. I want the price to reflect the difficulty I can see, rather than needing everything to go right for the investment to make sense. Optimism and honesty have to sit at the same table.
It also means building with people who live here. That is central to how I think about this, not something added after the investment decision has already been made. If I believe the opportunity is in meeting real needs, I need to work with people whose lives are connected to those needs and to the conditions around them. I don’t want local people standing at the edge of a plan designed somewhere else. I want to build with them. There is a difference between having an opinion about a place and sharing the work of building something in it. My thesis requires the latter.
And what sort of businesses am I looking for? Businesses that generate cash rather than headlines. Which is not a criticism of a business getting attention. Attention is not the problem. Confusing attention with a return is the problem. I want to understand how the business earns money, not only why its story sounds important. A business can sit inside every theme I’ve mentioned and still fail that test. Young people, growing cities and unmet needs can explain why I’m interested. They cannot take the place of a business that works. Cash matters because I’m making an investment case, not just expressing enthusiasm.
The forty-year view matters to me because this is not a claim about a quick return. But a long horizon is not permission to be vague either. I still have to choose the people, the business and the price. I still have to distinguish a real opportunity from an appealing idea. There is no criticism here of someone who looks at the difficulty and decides it is not for them. I would rather make that decision honestly than pretend conviction I don’t have. My own conclusion is different: the needs, the demographic direction and the scarcity of capable operators make this a place where I want to build.
That is why I’m betting on Africa. Not because I was born here and therefore everything must be good. Not because risk is smaller than it looks. I see substantial needs, a young and urbanising continent, and difficult work that keeps competition thinner than the opportunity might suggest. I believe there are returns available to people who actually turn up and build well. Turning up is not enough on its own. It has to come with honest pricing, people who live here, and businesses that produce cash. I came back by choice because I want to be here for that work, not merely watch it from somewhere else.