Not too long ago, I walked into a café in Addis Ababa and overheard a conversation between two young men. One was explaining to the other how he’d bet 1000 birr on a football match in the English Premier League and was hoping to triple it by the evening. As they scrolled through a betting site on their phone, I couldn’t help but reflect on the larger story this moment tells—a story not just of hope, but of misplaced hope.
In the past decade, while we celebrated the emergence of digital finance and mobile banking in Ethiopia, a silent epidemic was spreading among our youth: gambling. With flashy promotions and frictionless interfaces, betting sites have become a financial trap disguised as entertainment. I decided to go a step further and reached out to a few of these platforms to inquire just how much money they were pulling in monthly in Ethiopian birr. None responded. Their silence was louder than any statistic—they didn’t want to talk because the numbers would reveal the truth. The house always wins.
And yet, amid this wave of speculative loss, another kind of platform could rise—one that doesn’t drain the future, but builds it. That platform is microinvesting.
A Nation of Dreamers Without a Ladder
Ethiopians, especially the youth, are not afraid of taking risks. What they lack is access to constructive risk. Microinvesting could be that bridge. It offers individuals—regardless of income level—the ability to invest small amounts in portfolios, stocks, ETFs, bonds, or even Sharia-compliant instruments. In countries like Kenya, Nigeria, and South Africa, microinvesting apps have already begun transforming savers into shareholders.
Here at home, the financial sector is just beginning to blossom with the recent emergence of investment banks. This is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to change the narrative. Rather than focusing solely on high-net-worth individuals or large-scale investors, Ethiopian investment banks should look down—not in pity, but in purpose—and bring microinvestment platforms to the average citizen.
If You Can Bet 100 Birr, You Can Invest 100 Birr
A single bet on a football match could feed a week of investment. With as little as 50 or 100 birr, young Ethiopians could become co-owners of national projects, listed companies, green startups, and even diaspora bonds. They could participate in building the future instead of gambling it away.
The mechanics already exist. What’s missing is willpower. Investment banks should create digital-first platforms, local-language apps, and SMS-based tools that make microinvesting as easy as placing a bet. They must also design inclusive portfolios that align with Ethiopian values—ethical, halal, socially responsible.
Betting Sites Are Not Harmless Fun
Let’s not sugarcoat it. Betting is not just about fun or fandom. It has become a systemic leakage of capital from households and neighborhoods that can least afford it. While betting companies thrive in the shadows, draining millions every month, the nation’s investment capital—its most abundant, underutilized resource—is asleep in mobile wallets, unused bank accounts, and pockets of doubt.
I’ve worked for years in renewable energy, social enterprise, and startup development. One thing I’ve learned is this: People do not lack ambition; they lack vehicles. Microinvesting is that vehicle.
What Ethiopia’s Investment Banks Must Do Now
Launch Microinvesting Platforms – Simple, mobile-accessible tools that allow everyday Ethiopians to invest as little as 10 birr in curated portfolios.
Focus on Financial Literacy – Collaborate with schools, influencers, and religious institutions to teach people the difference between speculative gambling and strategic investing.
Partner with the Government & Diaspora – Offer investment in treasury bonds, development projects, and green initiatives to channel local capital into national growth.
Provide Faith-Aligned Options – Create Sharia-compliant investment pathways that attract the millions who feel excluded from the current financial system.
If Ethiopia’s new investment banks don’t step up, the betting platforms will keep stealing our people’s dreams, one wager at a time. But we have a choice. We can shift the narrative from bets to stocks, from loss to legacy.
As someone who has spent years advocating for development, entrepreneurship, and sustainability, I implore these banks: Don’t just serve the wealthy. Serve the hopeful. Build tools that make every Ethiopian an investor in the future. Our youth are already placing their bets—it’s time we gave them something worth betting on.
