betPawa Empire Crumbles: Mr Eazi’s Betting Gambit Unravels Amid Partner’s Shadowy Deals

The glittering facade of Africa’s fastest-growing betting operation is showing cracks that reveal a web of questionable partnerships, astronomical fees, and regulatory failures stretching from Senegal to Rwanda. At the center stands Nigerian music superstar Oluwatosin Ajibade, known globally as Mr Eazi, whose transformation from Afropop sensation to gambling magnate now appears built on foundations far less solid than his chart-topping hits.

betPawa, the British-Estonian online betting platform that has captured 4.8 million users across 16 African markets, promised a revolution in accessible gambling for the continent’s youth. Behind the sleek mobile interface and celebrity endorsements, however, lies a troubling pattern of collapsed partnerships, tax evasion allegations, and a business model that critics say extracts wealth from local operators at rates that would make loan sharks blush.

The company’s parent entity, pawaTech, founded in 2013 by Danish entrepreneur Kresten Buch, reported profits of $111.1 million in 2024 while positioning itself alongside industry giants like Cyprus-based 1xBet and French operators Premier Bet and Betclic. Yet as pawaTech pursued an aggressive capital raise for 2025, its expansion strategy has imploded across multiple markets, leaving a trail of unpaid wages, suspicious payments, and abandoned franchises.

The relationship between Buch and Mr Eazi, which began in 2014 when the artist was still building his musical career, has evolved into a partnership that blurs the lines between legitimate business and exploitation. By 2020, the two had formalized their collaboration, with Mr Eazi acquiring local betPawa operations in Uganda, Ghana, Tanzania, Nigeria, Rwanda, and Benin. The financial arrangements underpinning these acquisitions, according to sources close to the operations, included private jet travel, debt repayments, and cash transfers totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars flowing from Buch’s companies to the singer’s accounts.

The Senegal debacle offers the clearest window into pawaTech’s problematic operational model. Just months after a fanfare launch in 2024, CEO Juri Sidorenko sent a terse letter to local partner Mobile Technology on August 21, terminating their contract. The collapse followed Senegalese authorities’ refusal to permit the use of pawaPay, a payment aggregator partly owned by both Buch and Mr Eazi that would have allowed the partners to control the entire betting value chain from wager to payout.

Buch confirmed his minority stake in pawaPay, describing it as a spinout from pawaTech and an important customer of the parent company. This vertical integration strategy, while potentially lucrative, raised immediate red flags among African regulators wary of monopolistic control over gambling revenues.

But the Senegal exit revealed something more disturbing than regulatory pushback. In his termination letter, Sidorenko demanded Mobile Technology repay one million euros in operating loans extended between May 2024 and April 2025. pawaTech was not merely a lender but also the franchise’s betting system provider, charging fees set at a staggering 68 percent of monthly net profit. Industry standards hover around 30 percent, making pawaTech’s extraction rate more than double what franchisees typically pay.

By September 18, Mobile Technology director Alioune Badara Faye faced summons from Senegalese labor inspectors over unpaid wages and wrongful terminations, the predictable endpoint of a business model that siphoned profits while leaving local operators unable to meet basic obligations.

The Ivory Coast venture proved even more explosive. Buch partnered with Daci Speed, owned by Ange-Eléonore Djekould Bougoussou, whose husband Diomande Georges Gueuty serves as director general of the Ivorian economic and financial police. The marriage of betting interests and law enforcement oversight created obvious conflicts, but the relationship deteriorated into outright accusations of criminality.

On January 12, pawaTech issued a statement accusing Bougoussou of extorting $3.6 million. By September, the company had filed formal complaints in Abidjan and Kigali alleging breach of trust, fraud, forgery, and criminal conspiracy against Bougoussou and pawaTech’s former chief commercial officer Ntoudi Mouyelo. According to pawaTech, Daci Speed demanded the funds to secure a gaming license from the Loterie Nationale de Côte d’Ivoire, whose actual fee converts to just $900,000.

The accusations paint a picture of either spectacular corruption or spectacular incompetence. pawaTech claims LONACI never received payment, yet a license was somehow granted to Daci Speed in betPawa’s name. Despite holding the coveted license, Buch abandoned the Ivorian market when authorities refused to approve pawaPay and declined to guarantee tax incentives. The entire episode left observers wondering whether the $3.6 million vanished into private pockets or funded unofficial channels to secure regulatory approval.

In Cameroon, the Danish entrepreneur found partners with deep connections to power. As early as 2022, Buch joined forces with Ennovative Gaming, operated by businessman Thomas Nsongka and the influential Marinus Atanga. The latter’s brother, Paul Atanga Nji, serves as Territorial Administration Minister and reportedly maintains close ties to Ferdinand Ngoh Ngoh, secretary general to the presidency. Nsongka’s responsibilities extended beyond Cameroon to managing franchises in Sierra Leone, Congo, and Gabon.

Despite generating annual revenues reaching several hundred million CFA francs, Ennovative Gaming operated between 2022 and 2024 under a tax regime designed for small businesses with turnover below 50 million CFA francs. This preferential treatment, available to enterprises earning a fraction of betPawa’s actual revenues, continued until early 2024 when authorities finally conducted a tax reassessment, slapping the company with a 72 million CFA franc bill and forcing a regime change.

Buch defended the arrangement by stating pawaTech only licenses its brand to operators holding local licenses, which in turn requires tax clearance. Yet this explanation rings hollow when the very tax regime under which the franchisee operated was manifestly inappropriate for a business generating the revenues Ennovative Gaming reported.

In Benin, betPawa demonstrated more sophisticated regulatory navigation. The local franchise, represented by Choplife Gaming and owned by Mr Eazi, negotiated an exemption from Benin’s new 50 percent tax on online betting in exchange for a single payment of 3.8 million euros. Mr Eazi’s proximity to Lionel Talon, son of President Patrice Talon, likely smoothed the path for this preferential arrangement, which effectively cut the company’s tax burden in half while competitors faced the full levy.

The apprentice businessman, as sources describe Mr Eazi, now controls betPawa operations in Nigeria, Ghana, Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda, and Benin. But the weight of this empire is beginning to crush those beneath it. In Rwanda, authorities raised the online betting levy from 13 percent to 40 percent in February 2025, forcing Mr Eazi to pay $11.8 million in back taxes. Rwandan tax collectors continue pursuing several million dollars more in unpaid obligations.

The financial flows reveal the true nature of these franchises. Mr Eazi transfers more than 70 percent of his monthly profits to pawaTech in service fees, a figure that makes the Senegalese rate of 68 percent appear systematic rather than exceptional. Local operators function less as independent businesses than as revenue collection vehicles for the British-Estonian parent company, with Mr Eazi serving as the acceptable African face for what amounts to profit extraction on an industrial scale.

The relationship between the singer and his inconspicuous friend Buch has drawn scrutiny from unexpected quarters. Mr Eazi’s financial manager, growing uncomfortable with transactions flowing through pawaTech, raised concerns about the chartered accountant handling the Uganda operations. Doubting the compliance of financial arrangements, the manager withdrew his services and filed a complaint with the Institute of Chartered Accountants in England and Wales, the professional body governing accounting standards.

The specific nature of these compliance concerns remains unclear, but the decision to flag the matter to regulatory authorities suggests more than routine disagreements over accounting practices. When a financial professional risks his relationship with a high-profile client by reporting suspected irregularities, the underlying issues typically involve serious questions about legality or ethics.

In Uganda, Mr Eazi’s entry into the market followed a 2021 tax dispute involving betPawa’s partner Intelworld Company. Seizing the opportunity created by regulatory pressure on the existing operator, the singer acquired the company with assistance from the chief financial officer of K&K Advocates, a powerful law firm with extensive government connections. The pattern repeated itself across markets: regulatory difficulties created openings, Mr Eazi stepped in with Buch’s financial backing, and well-connected local partners smoothed the path.

Only in Nigeria, Mr Eazi’s home country, did this model encounter sustained resistance. The specific nature of that resistance remains unclear, but it suggests limits to even the most popular celebrity’s ability to leverage fame into regulatory favor when operating on home turf where scrutiny runs deeper.

The all-expenses-covered private jet trips, debt repayments, and cash transfers flowing to Mr Eazi paint a picture of a celebrity whose transition from entertainment to gambling was greased by financial inducements that raise questions about the true ownership structure behind his franchise holdings. Were these payments compensation for services, return on investment, or something less straightforward?

Now facing mounting pressure, Buch is reportedly considering relocation to Rwanda, hoping to avoid potential prosecution in European jurisdictions where accounting irregularities and tax arrangements might face harsher scrutiny. Once again, he appears to be counting on Mr Eazi’s popularity and connections to facilitate the move, banking on the singer’s star power to provide political cover for business practices that might not withstand examination in less celebrity-obsessed environments.

The broader questions raised by betPawa’s troubled expansion extend beyond individual actors. Africa’s online betting boom has created fortunes for operators while raising concerns about gambling addiction, youth exploitation, and the social costs of making wagering accessible through mobile phones that millions carry constantly. When the companies driving this boom operate through opaque franchise arrangements that evade appropriate taxation, employ service fee structures that strangle local partners, and cultivate relationships with politically connected individuals to secure preferential treatment, the industry’s legitimacy faces fundamental challenges.

pawaTech’s planned 2025 capital raise now appears increasingly difficult as potential investors confront collapsed markets, pending legal complaints, tax disputes, and professional accounting concerns. The company’s strategy of rapid expansion through local franchises and celebrity partnerships has produced impressive user numbers but questionable profits when calculated honestly rather than through accounting that keeps hundreds of millions in service fees offshore.

For Mr Eazi, the reckoning presents a stark choice between his carefully cultivated image as a Pan-African success story and the reality of a business model that extracts wealth from the continent while providing minimal lasting value to local economies. His music celebrated African youth, hustle, and ambition. His betting empire, by contrast, appears designed to monetize those same qualities while concentrating profits in European bank accounts.

The inconspicuous partner Kresten Buch, operating far from spotlight that illuminates his famous collaborator, has built a structure that privatizes profits while socializing risks. When franchises collapse under the weight of unsustainable fee structures, local operators face labor disputes and tax penalties while pawaTech maintains its distance. When regulators crack down on preferential tax arrangements, local entities pay reassessments while the parent company collects its service fees regardless.

As African regulators grow more sophisticated about the gambling industry’s practices, the model that powered betPawa’s expansion faces increasing resistance. The refusal to approve pawaPay in multiple markets signals awareness that allowing betting operators to control payment infrastructure creates conflicts of interest that undermine consumer protection. The tax reassessments and increased levies reflect governments’ determination to capture a fairer share of gambling revenues that too often flow offshore through service agreements and licensing fees.

The betPawa story illustrates how celebrity, connections, and capital can combine to build impressive empires on questionable foundations. But it also demonstrates that even in Africa’s sometimes lightly regulated markets, there are limits to how long such arrangements can persist before regulatory scrutiny, professional accountability, and basic business sustainability impose consequences.

For the 4.8 million users placing bets through betPawa platforms across Africa, the behind-the-scenes financial engineering remains invisible. They see a mobile app, marketing featuring their favorite celebrities, and the possibility of quick returns on small wagers. What they don’t see are the service fees extracting 70 percent of profits, the tax arrangements that deprive their governments of revenue for social services, and the partnership structures that concentrate wealth among a small group of well-connected individuals.

As 2025 unfolds, the question is whether Africa’s betting boom will mature into a properly regulated industry that contributes fairly to national coffers while protecting vulnerable consumers, or whether it will remain a vehicle for profit extraction dressed up in the language of innovation and accessibility. The troubles engulfing betPawa suggest that the current model faces a reckoning that no amount of celebrity endorsement or political connection can indefinitely postpone.

The king of Afropop built his musical empire through talent, hard work, and an ability to bridge African and global sounds. His gambling empire, by contrast, appears built on less sustainable foundations. Whether Mr Eazi can transform one into the other, or whether the weight of his inconspicuous partner’s collapsing expansion will pull both down, remains the central question as regulators across the continent begin demanding answers that sound bites and celebrity cannot provide.