Opinion
There’s something poetic about the idea of satellites bringing internet to the remotest corners of South Africa. High above the politics, the potholes, the load-shedding and policy paralysis , a constellation of machines quietly beams down possibility. It sounds like the future we were promised.
But here on the ground, nothing floats. Especially not tech with geopolitical baggage, racial policy hurdles, and billion-rand price tags. Starlink’s entry into South Africa isn’t just a story about internet access. It’s a slow, tangled collision between innovation and identity, between global ambition and local sovereignty.
Let’s start with what Starlink is trying to be. Elon Musk’s brainchild, a low-earth orbit satellite system built to deliver high-speed internet just about anywhere, has real promise. For South Africans living in rural areas where fibre lines are a fantasy and mobile data is both expensive and spotty, the appeal is obvious. This isn’t a luxury product. It’s potentially transformational.
But here comes the first gut punch: the cost.
As of now, Starlink kits are selling for upwards of R15,000 on the grey market, with monthly subscriptions floating around R1,300 to R1,500 according to a Mybroadband report. That’s before shipping, customs, or technical setup. In a country where over half the population lives below the upper-bound poverty line, and even urban middle-class households are tightening belts, this is not internet for the masses. It’s internet for the few.
The irony? Starlink markets itself as a tool for the underserved. But in South Africa, the pricing places it squarely in the category of boutique internet. A shiny object more likely to be found in the hands of remote game lodge operators and wealthy off-grid farmers than schoolchildren in Limpopo or small businesses in the Eastern Cape. The very communities that need it most are priced out before the signal even reaches their roofs.
So what we have is a paradox: a product that could democratize access, yet arrives with a price tag that entrenches the digital divide rather than closing it.
And the regulatory impasse doesn’t help. South Africa’s Independent Communications Authority (ICASA) has not granted Starlink a license to operate, largely due to the country’s Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) requirements, which demand 30% local ownership. Musk has taken public jabs at this, calling the rules exclusionary. ICASA has remained firm. Minister Solly Malatsi has responded by exploring flexible policy pathways for foreign tech companies, but he’s made one thing clear, the country’s commitment to equitable participation will not be sacrificed on the altar of Silicon Valley exceptionalism.
In his own words:
“We’re working on making regulations more flexible for global players, but not abandoning our principles in the process.”
It’s a difficult stance to argue with.
Meanwhile, South African telecom giants like Vodacom and MTN are watching Starlink with growing unease. These are companies that have invested billions into local infrastructure and jumped through every regulatory hoop. They argue, not without reason, that allowing Starlink to bypass the same obligations would undermine years of investment and set a precedent that says global tech doesn’t need to play by local rules.
Still, that doesn’t mean Starlink’s critics are rooting for it to fail. Far from it. Even the loudest voices in the telecom sector acknowledge the role satellite internet could play in solving South Africa’s connectivity crisis, if deployed responsibly.
But right now, Starlink is threading a messy needle. It’s unauthorized but active through resellers operating from neighboring countries. It’s transformative but prohibitively expensive. It’s foreign-owned but interested in local markets. And it’s being promoted as a lifeline for the disconnected, while its footprint so far mostly benefits the well-connected.
What complicates this further is the sovereignty question. When a U.S.-based company beams data into a country without local licensing or oversight, it’s not just a tech story. It’s a sovereignty issue. Who governs the digital skies? Who ensures compliance, security, taxation, or even content regulation?
South Africa is right to ask those questions. Any country would be.
In the end, the Starlink debate isn’t about whether South Africa should embrace satellite internet. It’s about how we do it, who benefits, and who’s left behind. If we get it right, Starlink could help level the playing field. If we get it wrong, we risk creating yet another layer of digital inequality but this time, launched from orbit.
Because access isn’t just about availability. It’s about affordability, equity, and control. And in a country still writing the rules of its digital future, those things matter more than ever.
Akhram Mohamed is the Editor of Geekhub.co.za and a longtime tech insider who’s spent 20+ years testing, launching, and talking about consumer gadgets. Formerly a VP at Huawei, he now writes with a critical eye and a deep love for tech that actually makes life better. When he’s not breaking down the latest devices, he’s gaming, building businesses, simplifying strategy, or podcasting about real-world leadership. Expect honest takes, sharp insights, and the occasional dad joke.
Follow him on social media: @akreinvented
