The African entrepreneurship landscape is in a paradoxical bind—capital is more available than ever, yet founder failure rates are rising. It is no longer enough to describe capital as a tool.
It must be understood as a double-edged force: when scarce, it fosters innovation; when abundant and misaligned, it can become a catalyst for destruction.
In Episode 3 of the Founders’ Battlefield podcast, “The Finance Mafia: Inside the Capital Club,” we explored how power, pressure, and misaligned incentives collide to compromise entrepreneurial outcomes.
I’ve sat on both sides of this equation. I’ve pitched. I’ve raised. I’ve borrowed. And recently, I sat across a table from potential venture partners.
We were aligned on ambition—but something didn’t sit right. So I borrowed a framework from Tony Robbins: the Six Human Needs —Certainty, variety, significance, connection, growth, and contribution.
Each of us, Robbins argues, is driven by a unique ranking of these. Founders typically lead with growth, while most capital providers—especially lenders—rank certainty highest.
And there it was: misalignment before a single shilling changed hands. This is where most capital relationships go wrong—at the start.
Founders, driven by belief and optimism, overcommit. Lenders, driven by caution and risk models, hedge. Equity investors chase exits. Founders chase legacies.
You walk into a partnership believing you’re building something together—only to realise one of you is building a business, the other is building a spreadsheet.
Christine Oseko, a legal mind who’s seen founders shredded by fine print, said it plainly:
“Most term sheets aren’t protection—they’re surrender.” And when things go wrong, as they often do, the founders don’t just lose their business—they lose their emotional footing, their social reputation, their strategic optionality, their spiritual energy, and ultimately, their mindset.
Let’s unpack this collapse through what we call the African Founders Operating System—a diagnostic lens we’re developing at Founders’ Battlefield to map the full terrain of founder distress.
It always starts emotionally. Every founder begins with hope—until that hope gets eroded by silence, delays, and pressure.
You’re opening auction letters, or selling assets at a loss just to honour obligations tied to a government contract that now sits as a pending bill. You don’t sleep. You begin to second-guess not just your strategy, but your sanity.
The financial strain quickly spills into the social. Investors get quiet or aggressive. You avoid calls. Team morale dips. Family members—many of whom co-signed your ambition without knowing it—start to feel the weight. Optimism collapses into isolation.
Strategically, you’re trapped. Cash flow projections no longer match reality. The bank restructures your loan, not to help you, but to comply with its internal risk profile.
Under Kenya’s reinterpreted duplum rule, that “restructuring” simply resets the interest ceiling and stretches the pain. No new money. Just new math.
And then your spirit begins to shift. The “why” that once drove you becomes foggy. You question whether the system is rigged. The same government that owes you millions is being funded by the same bank that’s now squeezing you.
Revenue authorities demand taxes on work you haven’t been paid for. Your account is frozen. Nobody’s talking to each other—but they’re all acting on you.
Eventually, it hits the mindset. You start negotiating quietly with yourself:
Do I sell the house? Do I go to court? Do I disappear? And just when you think it can’t get worse, the vultures arrive—those who smell distress and see opportunity. They call it “recovery.” But to a founder, it often feels like a feeding frenzy.
I asked a banker recently: “Why send an auctioneer before you send a strategist?” What if founders had capital coaches, not just debt collectors?
We agreed on one thing: founders must show up even when things are going wrong. But most go silent—not out of defiance, but despair.
In this episode, Bobby Gadhia shared his fall and rise with humility. He’s failed, he’s paid, he’s rebuilt. Edwin Dande gave us an unfiltered view into navigating the institutional capital beast—regulators, lawsuits, politics, and the heavy price of not belonging to “the club.”
I got flak for inviting Edwin. People said: “Why give him a platform?”
I said: “Everyone has a story—and those who are willing to step into the arena deserve to be heard.” My hope? That one day, even the critics will find closure, not just judgement
So, what’s the way forward?
Evaluate your capital partners as deeply as they evaluate you. Use Tony’s Six Needs. Ask: What’s driving this capital partner?
Keep communication alive—especially when it’s hardest. Re-negotiate with clarity. Don’t just beg. Bring options.
Build your own capital clubs—trust-based networks that serve founders, not just financiers. Because at the end of the day, the real capital is not just money.
It’s the grit, grace, and gut-instinct that got you here in the first place.
Founders don’t need handouts. We need honesty. Not just capital—but clarity. Not just cheques—but character.
The author is a Serial Entrepreneur Founder Seven Seas, Ponea Health and creator of Founders’ Battlefield.
