Dear Dairy

Hi Hannatu here,

Africa imports $4 billion worth of milk powder annually. 

That’s 15 billion litres of milk shipped across the world.

The continent, however, has more cows (about 350 million) than any other. 

So it should, in theory, make more milk. 

But if you walk into any supermarket in Lagos or Nairobi, the shelves are filled with foreign brands that have dominated African dining tables for generations.

So why do we keep importing so much milk when we have the cows?

If you read How To Build A Better Cow, you already know half the answer. 

Africa’s cows just don’t produce enough milk. 

Poor genetics, weak feed, and constant disease mean Africans cows produce only a fraction of the milk her global peers do.

But building better cows alone won’t solve the problem.

Because when it comes to milk in Africa, powder always wins.

Fresh milk spoils within days. But milk powder lasts for years. 

That single fact explains most of Africa's powdered milk import dependency.

Consider a shop owner in rural Ghana. 

Fresh milk requires refrigeration, constant restocking, and accepting losses from spoilage. One power outage could destroy the entire inventory. 

But milk powder can sit on shelves for months.

The story is the same with distribution.

Trucks carry milk powder to remote villages over terrible roads. It arrives perfectly fine. But fresh milk would have curdled hours earlier.

And don’t forget the taste. 

Three generations of Africans have grown up drinking reconstituted powder. It's what our mothers used. It's what tastes "normal." 

Some consumers actually prefer the sweeter, more consistent taste of powdered milk. And fresh milk brings a metallic taste that feels foreign.

In cities, fresh milk has another problem: trust. Was the milk diluted? Was it kept cold? Powder comes sealed, branded, certain.

And that concern is valid, and should even cover powdered milk too. 

Because here’s the thing: in many African countries, much of what Nigerian families think is milk actually isn't.

Let’s take Nigeria for example. 

It’s Africa’s biggest dairy market, and the world’s biggest importer of fat-filled milk powder.

In Nigeria, 98% of consumed milk is imported powder. 

But most of that isn’t milk, it’s “fat-filled milk powder” or FFMP. This is a cheap milk lookalike made by mixing milk powder with palm oil. 

Nutritionally, it's not the same product. 

The palm oil replaces milk fat, reduces protein and changes the nutritional profile. 

Just five companies control 99% of Nigeria's dairy market, and most of what they sell is imported powder, both real and fat-filled.

Consumers think they're buying milk.

But they're actually buying a processed food product designed to mimic it.

How did it get this bad?

The proof is in the pudding policy.

Nigeria has one of the largest cattle herds in sub-Saharan Africa. 

And the country has a long tradition of local dairy production.

In Kenya, for instance, smallholder farmers produce about 95% of locally sourced milk, though national production still falls short of total demand by roughly 20%.

But it isn’t because it doesn’t have the legal backing.

Kenya made imported milk more expensive by adding tariffs. These laws gave local farmers room to grow their own dairy industry.

Nigeria did the opposite. 

In the 1980s, it opened its market under structural adjustment programs and never closed it again. 

Local farmers in Nigeria couldn't compete with cheap foreign milk. Its dairy industry never took off.

Now, the results of that policy are clear: Nigeria imports 98% of the milk and most of it doesn’t meet global milk standards.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: sometimes importing just makes more sense.

Europe pumps €5 billion a year into dairy subsidies. 

That makes their milk artificially cheap. They can ship powder to Africa for less than African farmers can produce fresh milk.

Countries like Kenya protect their farmers with tariffs. 

Nigeria doesn’t. So local herders are competing against subsidized European cows, and losing.

Processing makes the gap worse. 

Turning fresh milk into powder needs expensive machines, skilled workers, and steady electricity. Most African dairy plants lack all three.

And when governments push back, the importers play nice. They promise to “develop local supply chains.” They sign flashy MOUs. They pledge to buy milk from African farmers.

One giant European brand even promised to source 10% of its milk locally in Nigeria. 

But five years later, local sourcing is still at 3%. Imports? Unchanged.

Because import lobbies aren’t just selling milk. They’re buying time. They’ve got deep pockets, decades-old distribution, and powerful political friends.

Breaking that grip will take more than better cows.

Building better cows was step one. We've made progress there.

GenePlus's better genetics address consistency. Cows can produce 15 litres daily instead of 5, and supply milk year-round. This is reducing the seasonal gaps that imports typically fill.

Cowtribe's drone-delivered vaccines keep herds healthy.

And healthy cows mean predictable production. 

But even with these improvements, local producers face an uphill battle. 

Decades of infrastructure neglect can't be fixed by startups alone. 

And consumer habits built over three generations don't shift quickly.

Step two requires infrastructure investment that far exceeds what startups can provide. 

Africa needs thousands of chilling centers, refrigerated trucks, and reliable electricity networks. 

Trade policy also needs rethinking. 

We need laws that protect infant industries. 

If African companies could produce their own milk powder from local milk, they'd capture value currently flowing to foreign producers. 

The powder could be distributed using existing networks.

If we want to know what success looks like, we should look at Rwanda.

About 31 years ago, 80% of cows in Rwanda were killed. The country’s dairy sector collapsed.

But today, it's nearly self-sufficient in fresh milk.

The government invested heavily in cooling centers and collection networks. 

They provided subsidies for improved breeds. They trained farmers in modern techniques. They protected local producers with strategic tariffs. 

To cap it, the Rwandan government  set up a $54 million powdered milk plant.

It worked because they addressed the whole system, not just production.

Kenya has made progress too. 

Fresh milk consumption in urban areas is rising. Cooperatives like Mukurweini Wakulima now process milk into yogurt and UHT milk that competes directly with imports.

But nationally, import dependency remains high. The infrastructure gaps are too large.

Last time, we ended on an optimistic note. Better genetics, smarter farming, and cooperative organization are transforming African dairy.

That's true. But it's not enough.

Africa can't build its way out of import dependency through farming innovation alone. 

The infrastructure deficit is too massive. The competition is too strong. Consumer habits are too entrenched.

This doesn't mean the innovations we covered last time don't matter. They absolutely do. GenePlus and Cowtribe are helping thousands of farmers earn better incomes.

But if the goal is replacing imported powder with fresh local milk, we need to be honest about the scale of the challenge.

It’ll take decades of investment in infrastructure, smarter policies, and real coordination between governments, businesses, and development partners.

Some countries will pull it off. 

Rwanda’s already showing it can be done. Others will stay dependent on imports for a long time.

So next time you mix powdered milk into your tea, remember: those white granules aren’t just about convenience. 

They’re the product of broken systems, tough economics, and choices that better cows alone can’t fix.

And there's a good chance it’s not even real milk.

What about where you are? Is fresh milk finally catching on, or is powder still king? 

👉🏾Hit reply and tell us what you’re seeing in the milk aisle.

Cheers,