Tema Innocent
The numbers stopped him mid-scroll.
Across Sub-Saharan Africa, women hold just 8% of software development roles. In his own country, the figure was only 17% of all tech jobs. It was the kind of statistic that stops you cold, until you realize it represents real people, real potential, real futures left on the table.
Then, still scrolling, he landed on her page. Post after post, a young Cameroonian woman breaking down code, sharing her journey, and unapologetically owning her space in a male-dominated field. She made it look possible. She made it feel urgent. She was one of the 8%, and she was thriving.
So he picked up his phone, typed a message on TikTok, and asked her a question that would define how he shows up in his own community.
This is the story of that message, and the movement it’s part of.
A number that should alarm Africa
Africa’s tech sector has a gender problem, and the data backs it up with uncomfortable clarity. Across the continent, women are dramatically underrepresented in technology fields, and the numbers tell a story that should trouble anyone who cares about the continent’s digital future.
In Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation and largest economy, female participation in tech hovers around 22%. In Kenya, often celebrated as the “Silicon Savannah,” the figure is slightly better but still far from parity. South Africa, despite being the continent’s most advanced digital economy, sees women occupying less than a quarter of tech roles. In Uganda, where this story begins, women hold just 17% of tech jobs nationwide.
But the most sobering statistic of all? Across Sub-Saharan Africa, women hold a mere 2% to 8% of software development roles. These are the very positions that build the products, platforms, and infrastructure shaping the continent’s digital transformation. And women are almost entirely absent from them.
These aren’t just abstract figures. They represent thousands of young women who never got the opportunity to learn to code. They represent countless innovations that never materialized because the perspectives needed to build them were never in the room. They represent a future where Africa builds technology for itself, but only with half its population sidelined.
The gap isn’t just a statistic, it’s a drag on innovation. Studies consistently show that diverse teams produce better products, solve more complex problems, and generate higher revenues. A 2020 McKinsey report found that companies in the top quartile for gender diversity on executive teams were 25% more likely to see above-average profitability. When half the population is systematically excluded from building the digital future, everyone loses. Not just the excluded, but the entire ecosystem that misses out on their contributions.
Into that gap walked a student who decided he wasn’t going to just watch it happen.
The message that started it all
He had been following Tracy, a Cameroonian software engineering student and community builder, on TikTok for months. She had become a fixture on his feed, a constant presence of code breakdowns, career advice, and unapologetic confidence. But it wasn’t until one late-night scroll, when her posts about thriving as a woman in tech kept appearing one after another, that curiosity finally turned into action.
She wasn’t just coding. She was building a community. She was sharing scholarship opportunities, announcing free webinars, and celebrating the achievements of women who had completed her programs. She was lifting others as she climbed, and it was impossible not to notice.
For months, he watched from the sidelines. But then something shifted. Maybe it was the weight of the statistics he had just read. Maybe it was the sheer exhaustion of knowing the gap existed but feeling powerless to do anything about it. Maybe it was the simple realization that if not him, then who?
So he picked up his phone, tapped the message icon on her TikTok profile, and typed the question that had been building in his mind for weeks.
“What’s one project or initiative you’d recommend for starting a culture of collaboration and support for women right from the beginning of their tech journey?”
It was a simple question. But it was also an admission. An acknowledgment that he couldn’t fix this alone, that he needed guidance from someone who had already walked the path. It was, in its own quiet way, the first act of allyship in what would become a much larger story.
Tracy’s answer: start small, start now
Tracy didn’t hesitate. Her response came quickly, and it was practical, grounded, and refreshingly free of the grand pronouncements that often characterize conversations about gender equity.
Her advice was simple. Start with the things you can control. Build spaces where people can learn together. Remove barriers, even small ones. Show people they belong.
She laid out a framework that was both ambitious and achievable. Peer coding sessions where students and professionals learn side by side, not in isolation. The idea was simple: when you learn alongside someone else, you are not just acquiring technical skills, you are building relationships, creating accountability, and normalizing the presence of women in coding spaces.
She recommended beginner-friendly workshops to lower the barrier to entry for newcomers. Tracy emphasized that many women never enter tech not because they lack ability, but because the first step feels too intimidating. Workshops that assume no prior knowledge can change that.
Mentorship circles were another cornerstone of her advice. Pairing experienced technologists with those just starting out can make all the difference between persisting and giving up. Tracy knew from her own journey that having someone to guide you through those early, uncertain phases is invaluable.
And finally, safe spaces. Making sure every person, especially women, feels they belong. This was not just about physical spaces, but about creating a culture where questions are welcomed, mistakes are learning opportunities, and no one feels like an imposter.
“Small initiatives like these can make a lasting impact,” she told him. It was not flashy advice. But it was honest, and it came from someone who had built exactly this kind of community from the ground up.
Who is Tracy?
Tracy’s own story is the proof behind her advice. A software engineering student who could have simply focused on her own career, she instead chose to build something larger than herself. She grew Tech-Rise Africa from a small project into a platform that has already reached thousands of participants through digital skills training and scholarship support, while building an audience of more than 80,000 across YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok.
Her impact is not confined to Cameroon. In Nigeria, the Abia State Governor recently granted automatic employment to 50 outstanding TechRise graduates. That is a signal that skills-first programs like hers are starting to move real institutions. Governments are paying attention because the results speak for themselves.
As Tracy put it, she is actively dismantling the barriers that keep women out of this industry. But she does not do it alone. She has built a network of mentors, partners, and supporters who share her vision, including now, a first-year student from Uganda who was brave enough to send a direct message.
One student, one decision, one continent
“I want to champion that same inclusivity in my own community,” he said.
It is a small declaration, made by someone just starting their journey. But it points to something bigger. A generation of young Africans who are done waiting for institutions to fix the gap. They have decided to start with peer coding sessions, workshops, and one uncomfortable conversation at a time.
This generation understands something that older leaders often miss. Culture change does not happen through policy alone. It happens when individuals decide to act differently, when communities decide to hold themselves accountable, when a critical mass of people simply refuse to accept the status quo.
The student’s decision to message Tracy was itself an act of leadership. He recognized that he did not have all the answers, but he knew where to find them. He reached across borders, from Uganda to Cameroon, to ask for help, and then he committed to acting on what he learned.
Why it matters beyond one university
This is not just a feel-good story about a TikTok DM. It is a preview of what closing Africa’s tech gender gap could actually look like. Not top-down policy alone, but a networked generation of students and professionals building culture from the ground up, one cohort at a time.
From Lagos to Nairobi, from Accra to Kampala, the same story is playing out. Young people are recognizing that if they wait for governments or corporations to solve the problem, they will be waiting forever. Instead, they are building their own platforms, creating their own opportunities, and pulling others up behind them.
The beauty of this approach is its scalability. A peer coding session requires no government approval, no corporate sponsorship, no formal infrastructure. It requires one person willing to organize, a few others willing to show up, and a commitment to making it a regular occurrence. Over time, these small actions compound into something transformative.
What comes next
For the student who sent that first message, the journey is just beginning. He has not publicly shared his plans, but his commitment to championing inclusivity suggests we can expect to see something take shape in his community in the coming months.
For Tracy and Tech-Rise Africa, the work continues. With more than 80,000 followers and growing, she is scaling her impact across the continent, connecting young Africans with the skills and opportunities they need to succeed in tech.
And for the rest of us, the story offers a challenge. What is stopping you from sending that first message? What is keeping you from starting that peer coding group, that mentorship circle, that safe space for women in tech?
The numbers are stark. The gap is real. But so is the opportunity to close it.
The question is not whether this kind of change is possible. It is how many more people are willing to send that first message.
This post was created with our nice and easy submission form. Create your post!
Written by
A sports Journalist with RabSports Uganda, Advocate for Children’s Rights and Youths, Amazing Storyteller with DW Akademie and UNICEF, Independent Researcher, Student at Muni University
Did this story move you? Every gift goes directly to Tema Innocent — writers on Muwado earn from reader appreciation, not algorithms. Even $1 makes a difference.
Muwado weekly chart
Get Africa’s top 10 stories every Thursday
No account needed — just your email.
Want to follow Tema Innocent and get notified every time they publish?
Create a free Muwado account →