Gbenro Dara
Writing
Insurance
5 min read

Why Insurance Is the Hardest Sell in Africa

Insurtech in Africa isn't fighting user inertia — it's competing with faith. Why the real rival is the church, and what that means for how you sell cover

9 November 2025 · Updated 11 July 2026

Every founder learns to sort problems into two piles. There are the problems people wake up searching for a solution to, and there are the ones they have quietly made peace with. Insurance sits firmly in the second pile.

I think of it as a Hard Fact problem. The customer knows the risk is real. They have simply decided the risk is not worth acting on — not because they did the maths, but because acting on it costs money today against a loss that may never come. In most markets, that resignation is the whole obstacle. In Africa, it is only the beginning.

You are not competing with other insurers

The mistake is to assume your competition is the incumbent insurer down the road, or the other insurtech with a slicker app. It isn't. In much of Africa, the dominant product for managing risk is not financial at all. It is faith.

In the developed world, insurance is understood as a way to mitigate risk. You pay a premium, you transfer a downside, you move on. Across large parts of this continent, the mechanism people actually reach for is prayer and intercession. A failed crop or a sudden illness is not read as a financial event to be hedged. It is read as a spiritual one to be prayed through. The rational response, in that worldview, is not to buy a policy. It is to seek deliverance.

That is a formidable competitor. It is older than any insurer, more trusted than any brand, and embedded in weekly ritual. When your product goes up against something people already believe protects them — and that also gives them community, meaning, and a place to put their fear — a mobile-first claims flow is not, on its own, going to win.

The evidence is real, not anecdotal

This is easy to wave away as a colourful observation. It isn't. Economists have measured it.

A study published in the Quarterly Journal of Economics looked at formal insurance and religious offerings in Ghana and found the two are substitutes: when people take up formal insurance, they give measurably less to their church.1 The reverse holds too — churches make an explicit link between giving to God and future wellbeing, which is to say they are selling a form of insurance, and a compelling one. The offering plate and the premium notice are competing for the same naira, and for the same job in a person's mind.

Once you see risk mitigation as a category that includes the spiritual, the adoption numbers stop being a mystery. You are not looking at a population that has failed to understand insurance. You are looking at a population that already has an insurer, and is broadly satisfied with it.

What this changes about how you build

If the real competitor is faith, then the standard insurtech playbook — better underwriting, a cleaner app, a cheaper premium — is necessary but nowhere near sufficient. The harder work is about trust and context. A few things follow directly.

Stop selling insurance as a standalone decision. Asking someone to pause, weigh an abstract future loss, and part with money is asking them to lose an argument they have already settled. It is far easier to attach cover to a moment when they are already acting — buying a phone, taking a loan, shipping goods, boarding a ride. Embedded distribution works in this market not because it is fashionable, but because it removes the standalone decision entirely.

Buy trust with speed, not with marketing. The single fastest way to change how insurance is perceived is to pay a claim before the customer expects it. When a payout lands in hours instead of weeks, the story that travels through a community is not an advertising slogan — it is a neighbour saying they actually paid. In a low-trust category, claims speed is the product, and word of mouth does the distribution that no budget can buy.

Make the product legible. Deliverance is simple: you pray, you believe, you are covered. Insurance, as it is usually sold, is the opposite — pages of exclusions, waiting periods, and conditions that seem designed to avoid paying. If the honest, informal alternative is easier to understand than the formal one, the formal one loses. Radical clarity is not a nice-to-have; it is how you compete with a rival that offers certainty.

The opportunity is the difficulty

It would be easy to read all of this as a reason to be pessimistic about insurance in Africa. I read it the opposite way.

A market where the incumbent solution is prayer is a market where almost no one is genuinely covered against financial loss. The gap between the risk people carry and the protection they hold is enormous, and it is not closing on its own. Whoever builds insurance that is embedded enough to be effortless, fast enough to be believed, and clear enough to be trusted is not fighting over a small pool of existing customers. They are building the category itself, for the first time, for the next billion people coming online.

That is a harder problem than most founders sign up for. It is also a far bigger one. You do not get to build economic infrastructure by picking the easy fights.

Footnotes

  1. "God Insures Those Who Pay? Formal Insurance and Religious Offerings in Ghana," Quarterly Journal of Economics 135(4), 2020.

insurtech
africa
insurance
distribution
behavioural-economics

Occasional essays

On AI, insurance, building in Africa, and what I'm learning. No cadence promises. Only when I have something worth saying.