Across Africa, new data centers are heralded as emblems of an emerging digital future. Governments announce multimillion-dollar investments; global cloud providers establish hubs in Nairobi, Lagos, and Johannesburg; and policymakers increasingly frame these initiatives as the principal pathway through which data localization—and, by extension, digital sovereignty—will be achieved.

Yet, while these initiatives are critical, they can often reproduce the very dependencies they intend to overcome. In many African countries, digital infrastructure—servers, cloud environments, security protocols, and algorithmic systems—remain tethered to external expertise, firms, and capital, particularly from Chinese technology firms. 

Yes, data centers matter. But build them with the region in mind.

If the continent hopes to shape its own digital future, it must invest seriously in cultivating a deep, steady pool of technical expertise. That means building Information and Communication Technology (ICT) academies, expanding engineering programs, and treating human capacity—not hardware—as the foundation of digital sovereignty. 

Hardware can be purchased. Talent must be cultivated.

There is no digital sovereignty without human sovereignty

If I were advising African policymakers or global investors, I would say: Yes, data centers matter. But build them with the region in mind, not as siloed national monuments. 

And before pouring millions into concrete, cooling systems, and servers, consider the fundamentals. Data centers consume extraordinary amounts of electricity. They require highly specialized engineers. They demand steady maintenance. And without a robust talent pipeline, these facilities will remain dependent on foreign firms.

A nascent tier of high-value jobs in cybersecurity and AI governance is taking shape. Yet, the stratification between the top and bottom tiers exposes how most Kenyan digital labor is relegated to the lowest rungs of global digital capitalism

Africa’s tech-talent pipeline is still too thin, and the talent that does emerge is often siphoned off to Silicon Valley or Europe long before it can anchor long-term and sustainable local capacity and innovation. 

Accordingly, the overwhelming share of employment continues to be concentrated in low-wage, service-based tasks. For instance, the most telling feature of Kenya’s digital economy is the rise of precarious ghost work. These low-wage digital tasks — image labeling, content moderation, transcription — constitute the primary jobs available to many aspiring tech workers. They create the illusion of a growing tech sector while, in reality, tethering Kenyan labor to the lowest rungs of the global AI value chain. Though this work fuels the very architecture of machine intelligence, it remains largely invisible within celebratory narratives of digital sovereignty.

A nascent tier of high-value jobs in cybersecurity and AI governance is taking shape. Yet, the stratification between the top and bottom tiers exposes how most Kenyan digital labor is relegated to the lowest rungs of global digital capitalism — providing the indispensable “janitorial” work of the AI economy while enjoying little of its value. Such an arrangement underscores the urgency of investing in deeper, long-term cultivation of local tech talent. 

The take-home message: Invest in people 

Some African governments insist that questioning data localization is the same as rejecting sovereignty; however, I’m not arguing against data centers. I’m arguing against putting all our eggs in one high-cost, high-risk basket.

Technology is not a universal elixir.

While data localization may generate opportunities for domestic data centers, it can simultaneously constrict the wider digital ecosystem by limiting access to interoperable data flows—data streams that can move smoothly and be shared or understood across different systems. More crucially, the mere act of storing data within national borders is not equivalent to meaningfully controlling the infrastructures that move it or the systems that make it useful.

Technology is not a universal elixir. It cannot, by itself, resolve a country’s structural problems. Change is contingent on people; yet, we increasingly imagine that digital systems can repair colonial legacies, fortify fragile institutions, or expand narrow tax bases by sheer force of innovation. 

Infrastructure without empowered and educated citizens can only reproduce dependence on foreign firms and expertise. Instead, we must invest in people —engineers, civic technologists, digital entrepreneurs— whose work and expertise can help cultivate local agency. We create futures in which Africans are not just users of digital systems but the architects of them. Digital sovereignty, then, should not be defined merely by where data flows or where servers sit. It should be defined by who has the capacity to shape those systems, who benefits from them, and who has the freedom to imagine alternatives.

The promise of Africa’s digital future is not found in the server room. 

It’s found in the people who will build, critique, reinvent, and transform the technologies of Africa and the world’s tomorrow.