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Black Tax

Decades ago, I did not go to Alliance. I did however attend the University of Nairobi’s law school where I met those very few who went to Alliance, sharing in the rarified air of their intellectual presence. Mosocho was my classmate and together with about 160 others, we were one of the pioneers of the government’s new increased student loan system. The system gave us direct cash amounting to about Kshs 7,000 per academic year as well as about Kes 42,000 indirectly which was remitted to the University instead to pay for our tuition. To be honest, I blew my “boom” as it was fondly referred to on the good life. The very soft life of a university student who needed clothes to look good and money to party. Mosocho, I later came to discover in my second year of university, was an orphan and was the eldest of six siblings. He used his boom to pay their fees throughout our time at campus.

Mosocho was my first unknowing encounter with the concept of “Black tax”. The term originated in South Africa and is defined by Investopedia as the financial burden borne by Black people who have achieved a level of success and who provide support to less financially secure family members. The monetary transfers are made by middle class and wealthy black people to relatives who are struggling to make ends meet. Investopedia further explains that the term not only defines the movement of funds, but more importantly includes the toll that it takes on the financially able family member who may be unable to build wealth in the same way as their White peers who don’t share the same financial obligations.

Historical racial injustices aside, Black tax is actually a continent wide phenomenon. Due to the high unemployment rates and economic disparities for most Africans, we endure Black tax under almost daily circumstances. From paying school fees for siblings, cousins and village mates to paying for hospital bills, rent, funeral expenses and daily subsistence for relatives, friends and former colleagues. Unless you live in an African Mars equivalent, you have to have paid Black tax in some shape or form in the last month.

Consequently, this is one of the leading determinants of the slow growth of African middle class wealth as there are multiple, unbudgeted financial pressures on largely static incomes. While it is virtually impossible to quantify the amounts paid locally, a more visible manifestation of Black tax is apparent in the form of diaspora remittances. In sub-Saharan Africa, the top five recipients of remittances in 2021 were Nigeria at US$ 19.2 billion, Ghana at $4.5 billion, Kenya at $3.7 billion, Senegal at $2.7 billion and Zimbabwe at $2.0 billion.

The more illuminating numbers are the ones that show just how impactful those dollar inflows are to the local economies. According to the World Bank press release, the top three sub Saharan countries where the value of remittance inflows as a share of GDP is significant are the Gambia at 27%, Lesotho at 23% and Comoros Islands at 19%. The senders of those remittances may or may not have achieved the middle class dream of owning their homes and living debt free. But they do partake (whether willingly or unwillingly) in the African spirit of Ubuntu which recognizes that the individual exists in a microcosm that is actually part of a larger community thus cannot survive without helping others.

Unfortunately it is this very concept of Ubuntu or its Swahili equivalent “utu” that leads to the insidious social fallout of Black tax. Diasporans have numerous nightmarish stories of money sent to close relatives to buy plots or construct homes which are only bought or built in the lofty corridors of the sender’s mind. Frequently the recipient diverts the funds to other personal uses. One frailty of the human condition is to confuse charitable largess with entitled, guaranteed income and consequently view the socially respected “rich” relative as a perpetual ATM. The subsequent family fallout is usually as spectacular as watching migrating wildebeest cross the Mara river. It never ends well for some.

The government’s push to Kenyans to seek more jobs abroad is an indirect way to ensure that this key source of attractive foreign exchange grows thereby diversifying our reliance on agricultural exports for global currency. Meanwhile, Mosocho became a very successful lawyer and is currently a senior partner at a leading law firm. Black tax does get its just rewards!

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Mpesa is a key economic engine

I have a little farm on the sweeping eastern Laikipia plains that has me visiting at least once a month. The singular cause of blinding migraines for the many telephone farmers is farm worker fraud. Those fellows will find a way to skim money, farm inputs or farm outputs at any given opportunity and trust me, as soon as you plug one leak they’re ten steps ahead of you preparing for the next scam. So one has to, as a telephone farmer, accept a certain level of pilferage as part of the business-as-usual operations, or opting to move and reside permanently in the farm. Irritated and exhausted by one certain input request, I set up a system that didn’t require the farm worker’s intervention. I got a trustworthy boda boda operator in Nanyuki (where trustworthy is a fairly fluid virtue) to be purchasing the input on my behalf. But I don’t send him the cash. He goes to the outlet, sends me the “Lipa Na Mpesa” till number where I pay and he takes the goods together with an electronic receipt to the farm. I specifically chose the outlet for those two reasons: they have an mpesa till number and they issue electronic receipts. I then pay him, using mpesa, for delivery of the goods and have peace of mind, knowing full well that another scheme is likely being hatched at the farm since I blocked what had been a lucrative cash cow for the workers before.

Two things that are critical to the urban telephone farmer: a local boda boda “guy” and mpesa. While I don’t have any data on the impact that boda bodas have had on the transport economy – which must be undeniably high – more data on mpesa is readily available. In the latest published Safaricom financials for the half year ended 30th September 2016, the company had 26.6 million registered customers out of which 24.8 million or 93% were mpesa customers. However, a more accurate number is yielded by looking at the 30-day active customers which registered as 23 million, with 17.6 million active mpesa customers or 76.5% of total active customers. Safaricom made more money from mpesa at Kshs 25.9 billion than it did from mobile data, which generated Kshs 13.4 billion. Mpesa revenue was equivalent to 43.3% of the voice revenue data of Kshs 45.7 billion. In simple words, mobile money is no bread and butter; it’s the cream with a cherry on top!

What were these mpesa customers doing, you ask? Well telephone farmers like me were a piddly fraction of the mpesa volumes. Three quarters of the total Kshs 25.9 billion in revenue that Safaricom received from mpesa was from what they call “bread and butter” business, which are the person-to-person transfers and withdrawals: John sends Mary a thousand shillings, who promptly goes to an agent to withdraw the same in cash and purchase food items for the house. Telephone farmers like me are to be found in what Safaricom calls “new business” which accounts for 24% of their mpesa revenue or about Kshs 6.2 billion.
New business includes customer to business (individuals paying for services using mpesa), business to customer (businesses sending money to individuals for example Kenya Tea Development Agency paying farmers their tea bonuses), Business to Business (Distributors paying a manufacturer for goods delivered) and the rapidly expanding Lipa Na Mpesa that has saved many urban dwellers the pain of having to send cash to purchase items via fundis, rogue relatives and even more rogue workers. But mpesa revenue aside, it is the sheer transaction volumes that are simply eye watering. By September 2016, mpesa had transacted Kshs 3.2 trillion. Kenya’s Gross Domestic Product or GDP, according to World Bank figures is US $ 63.4 billion or Kshs 6.34 trillion. The mpesa volumes are virtually 50% of Kenya’s GDP. However, hang on to your hat please as there is some double counting in the mpesa transaction volumes since they include deposits, withdrawals, person-to-person transfers and the business volumes. The bigger question is whether mpesa then poses a systemic risk in the event it is out of commission for whatever reason.

Firstly, mpesa is a methodology of transferring cash virtually. The actual cash sits in various mpesa trust accounts in Kenyan commercial banks. The bigger concern is not whether one’s funds are safe if mpesa goes down, it’s how to access a system that will release those funds which are sitting safely in a bank. Central Bank data from 2014 demonstrates that while mobile money volumes are extremely high at 66.5% or two thirds of the national payment system, they only account for 6.6% of the throughput value. It’s definitely a case of more bark than bite where systemic risk proponents are concerned.

But having said that, the attraction to track the mpesa movements from a tax collection perspective goes without saying. Even though the values may be low, mpesa provides an excellent opportunity for the taxman to bring in smaller businesses into the taxpayer net as each transaction has an electronic signature and trail. Designing and applying resources to create that tracking framework may perhaps be where the challenge lies.

That mpesa has changed lives goes without saying. We live in a country where one can literally take a trip from Mombasa to Malaba carrying zero cash, zero plastic card and with just her phone be able to eat, drink and seek lodging for that entire trip. The growth of the Lipa Na Mpesa payment points was 73% year on year in the half-year 2016 Safaricom financials. This means that there is rapid uptake by commercial establishments of the mpesa payment option, which quite honestly presents a better cash flow option than credit cards as there is no lag time between customer transactions and when the funds are deposited into the business account (typically 2-3 days in the case of credit cards).

Mpesa’s metamorphosis is not inclined to stop here and a banking licence may end up being required at the rate mpesa is transforming.

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A Short History of Banking in Kenya

[vc_row][vc_column width=”2/3″][vc_column_text]A lobbyist on his way home from Parliament after a Parliamentary Enquiry into Trading Practices by Britain’s leading bank executives is stuck in traffic. Several of the former Bank Executives and CEO’s have agreed to return their extravagant Pensions. Noticing a police officer, he winds down his window and asks: “What’s the hold up Officer?” The policeman replies: “The Chief Executive of the U.K.’s largest Bank has become so depressed he’s stopped his motorcade and is threatening to douse himself with petrol and set himself on fire because of the shame of what he has done.”
“Myself and all the other motorcade police officers are taking up a collection because we feel sorry for him.” The lobbyist asks: “How much have you got so far?” The Officer replies: “About 40 litres, but a lot of officers are still siphoning.”

It’s not that hard to find bad banker jokes these days, they are the most vilified professionals after tax collectors. But malign them as we will, the banking industry has been a key driver of the economy through provision of working capital facilities for businesses, unsecured loans for individuals and employment for many Kenyans, not to mention a safe place to keep our funds. The attached table demonstrates the phenomenal growth that has taken place in banking in the last thirteen years.

Kes Millions Dec 2002 Dec 2015
Government Securities 100,458 658,361
Net Advances 172,169 2,091,361
Deposits 360,642 2,485,920
Shareholder Funds 50,540 538,144
Interest Income 41,495 359,493
Non Interest Income 17,367 97,317

*Source: Central Bank of Kenya Banking Supervision Report 2002 and 2015

It’s evident that there has been exponential growth in banking, all driven by Kenyans contributing to economic growth and generating more capital. Deposits have grown by a factor of almost 7 while loans have grown by a factor of 12. Look at what the Central Bank (CBK) said in 2002 while reporting about the state of the industry: “Traditionally institutions in the local market have relied on interest income on loans and government securities as their major source of income. In the last few years, there has been a shift to government securities owing to lack of borrowers due to the depressed state of the economy. In the last one-year, the Treasury bill rates have been falling dramatically, thus compelling institutions to look for alternative sources of income to meet their operational costs and report profits for their shareholders. Some of these sources, especially increased fees and commissions have placed them on a collision course with the public. In an attempt to reduce their costs, some institutions have initiated restructuring programs that include staff retrenchment and rationalisation of their branch network. These measures have met resistance from the general public and trade unions.” A few years later CBK legislated that banks required their approval before introducing new fees in a bid to reduce the collision course so identified.
The result is that as the economy took an upswing following the Kibaki administration’s fairly successful macroeconomic policies, loans ended up being an easier way to grow the bottom line. In 2002, interest income of Kes 41.5 billion (which includes interest from loans, government securities and placement of funds with other institutions) made up 70% of the banking industry’s income. In 2015, the interest income of Kes 359.5 billion made up 78.7% of the banking industry’s income. Put it another way, innovation has been the furthest thing on the minds of bankers over the last decade. With the requirement to seek approval for new fees as well as the voracious appetite for loans, lending in this country has been a no-brainer for years.
But Kenyan banks are also responsible for a fairly broad financial access, at least compared to its neighbors. The CBK Banking Supervision Report 2015 reports as much by quoting a joint study with FSD Kenya and the World Bank titled “Bank Financing of SMEs in Kenya” that was published in September 2015: “A) Involvement of Kenyan banks in the SME segment has grown between 2009 and 2013. The total SME lending portfolio in December 2013 was estimated at KSh. 332 billion representing 23.4 % of the banks’ total loan portfolio while in 2009, this figure stood at Ksh. 133 billion representing 19.5% of the total loan portfolio.
B) The preferred source of financing for a large number of SMEs is overdrafts despite the fact that banks have introduced several trade finance and asset finance products designed for the SME market. C) The share of SME lending relative to total lending by commercial banks is higher in Kenya (23.4%) compared to other major markets in Sub Saharan Africa like Nigeria (5%) and South Africa (8%). According to a study quoted in the report, this ratio is at 17% in Rwanda and 14% in Tanzania placing Kenya as the leading country among the five countries referred to in the study.”
SMEs are the cogs that move the wheels of this and many emerging market economies. They cannot survive without bank funding and the interest rate regime change is very likely to upset the status quo and roll back the gains made by Kenya in deepening financial access to this critical sector of the economy. This is largely because SME lending has typically been collateralized to mitigate the risks. A reduction in the interest rate without a reduction in the corresponding credit risk of the SME borrower, together with no improvement in the legal framework for realizing collateral from defaulted borrowers is a recipe for reduced SME lending appetite.
However as a bank CEO said to me a few days ago, “I asked my staff today: is there no other way to make money apart from loans?” and all he got were blank stares in return. The ground is shifting under the feet of banks, not only legislatively but even technologically with the entry of Fintechs in the same lending space that banks have traditionally played in. We might very well be standing on the cusp of a financial innovation wave in Kenya.
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Twitter: @carolmusyoka[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][/vc_column][/vc_row]