In the sunny Garissa town, Halima Gedi folds away the few remaining scarves she didn’t sell today.
Business has been slow for weeks, but it’s not just the economy she blames. With a worn-out smartphone in one hand and Safaricom’s M-Pesa app open in the other,
Halima confesses that much of her capital has vanished — not into restocking her stall, but into online betting platforms.
“I started with just 50 shillings,” she says. “At first, I won small, 200, 300. But then I started losing, and I tried to win it back. I lost almost everything.”
Halima, 32, is one of a growing number of women in Garissa County lured into online gambling.
The activity was once associated with urban youth and men, but now spreading quietly among women in the region’s informal economy.
Thanks to the rise in smartphone penetration, mobile money access, and the aggressive reach of digital betting platforms, even the most marginalised communities are only a few clicks away from the promise of quick money — and the risk of financial ruin.
A New Frontier: Betting in the Pockets of the Poor
Mobile connectivity was once hailed as a game-changer for rural women in Kenya. It brought them closer to financial inclusion, education, and entrepreneurship. But in towns like Garissa, this very access is now enabling a quiet addiction.
“Women who once used their phones to run mobile stalls or savings groups are now using them to bet on football matches in Europe they barely follow,” says Fatuma Ibrahim, a community health worker and former financial literacy trainer. “We are watching businesses collapse in real time.”
Online betting platforms like SportPesa, Odibets, and MozzartBet — all licensed in Kenya — require little more than a phone and a few shillings to get started. Most women use M-Pesa to deposit money, often betting in increments as low as 20 or 50 shillings.
“Because it’s small amounts, it doesn’t feel like real loss at first,” says Fatuma. “But it adds up quickly.”
Marketing the Illusion of Control
In Garissa’s backstreets and markets, stories abound of women who’ve bet away their capital, borrowed from chama (informal women’s savings groups), or even sold personal items to continue gambling.
Aisha, a 27-year-old single mother of two, ran a successful food kiosk before she lost nearly 15,000 shillings to online games.
“The platform said I had a 90% chance of winning. I believed it,” she says, staring blankly at her screen.
Experts warn that betting platforms use addictive game design and targeted marketing to draw in users.
Some even tailor messages based on user history and betting patterns.
“Most of these platforms are designed like casinos,” says a Nairobi-based digital harm researcher Osman Khalif.
“Except now the casino is in your pocket, 24/7 — and women in marginalized areas are the new frontier.”
Shame, Secrecy, and Social Consequences
Unlike men, who may bet publicly or discuss wins and losses openly, women tend to hide their gambling habits, making it harder to detect until damage is done.
“We are now treating women with stress and anxiety related to gambling losses, especially those who can no longer feed their children,” says Dr. Zakaria Hussein, a clinical officer in Garissa.
“But there’s still shame. They don’t want to admit the cause.”
Community elders and religious leaders are beginning to take note. Some mosques have issued Friday sermons condemning online gambling, calling it haram (forbidden), while youth groups are launching small awareness drives.
But so far, little has been done to address the gender-specific harms or offer help to women silently suffering.
The Need for Safeguards
There are currently no government-led programs addressing online gambling addiction at the county level.
Licensing for betting platforms is handled nationally, and enforcement is weak.
While some companies include “responsible betting” messages, there is little evidence these curb addiction.
“There are no age or gender filters,” says Fatuma. “These platforms don’t care if you’re a 19-year-old jobless girl and many others including struggling mothers. They just want your money.”
Some activists are calling for betting apps to be banned from rural areas, or for mobile money platforms like M-Pesa to allow users to block gambling transactions.
Others say what’s needed is more investment in financial literacy and economic opportunities — especially for women already surviving on the edge.
A Lost Dream — and a Chance to Rebuild
Back at her stall, Halima sighs. “I wanted to expand. I was saving to buy a second-hand sewing machine,” she says, almost whispering. “Now, I have to start again.”
She has deleted her betting app. But every day, as she checks her phone for customer payments or market prices, the temptation to log back in lingers.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” she says. “But I hope others don’t have to lose everything like I did before they learn theirs.”
