Private security companies have become ubiquitous in Kenya and South Africa, employing hundreds of thousands and providing protection for a fee. However, as these companies gain traction, there are concerns about the privatization of force while regulations struggle to keep up, as Mkhululi Chimoio finds out.

On a cold wintry evening in Johannesburg, the blue lights cutting through the night are not from the police. They are from private security patrols, which have become a common sight in secured suburbs, shopping malls, and transit hubs, taking over a function that was erstwhile exclusive to the state. In office blocks and industrial areas of Nairobi, uniformed guards check entrances, scrutinise cars, and track CCTV footage, controlling access and asking for identification from anyone seeking access. In East and Southern Africa, private security has emerged as the most visible manifestation of private security, a response to terror threats and persistent insecurity, thriving on fear, profit, and statecraft, but which is inadequately regulated.

The burgeoning private and personal security industry employs millions, and sprung up in response to the absence and unreliability of national police and emergency services. Security companies have gradually gained leverage in the labor market, and some have specialised in firearms, intelligence, and advisory services, offering much more than what the state could hope to do.

South Africa is at the forefront of this shift. The number of registered private security personnel is now approximately 2.7 million, with over 650,000 in employment, contrary to the size of the South African Police Service, as reported in the Annual Report of the Private Security Industry Regulatory Authority for the 2023-24 financial year. The industry has been shown to grow by over 40 percent in a decade, which is attributed to high crime, inequality, and a lack of trust in the police.

Kenya has  2,172 private security companies registered in the country, according to the Ministry of Interior, and there are an estimated 400,000 private security guards, roughly four times the number of officers in the National Police Force, who numbered 104,080 according to the Kenya National Bureau 0f Statistics.

“It’s not merely a matter of complementing the police, that’s all, because what we are seeing is the rise of what I call a hybrid shadow security state, in which private corporations are now organising a whole lot of everyday security,” says Dr Mary Mangai, a senior lecturer in the University of Pretoria’s School of Public Management and Administration.

In Johannesburg, as in Nairobi, Dr. Mangai explains, private guards are no longer limited to being night watchmen.

“They operate access control, armed response, surveillance systems, and are increasingly involved with counterterrorism screening. The rich are secured by private corporations, with the public force reduced to a last resort.”

There is academic support available for this observation. A 2024 research paper, titled “Regulating the Private Security Industry: Experience from South Africa, Kenya, and Tanzania”, states that the private security sector has grown exponentially, while regulation is struggling to keep up. The privatization of security and its subsequent emergence as a service available only to those who can pay, the paper’s authors state, is a process of commodification, where security is no longer exclusively provided by the state, but has instead become something that can be bought on the market, effectively becoming a product that is packaged and sold for profit.

The workers at the bottom of a booming industry

Behind the massive growth is a workforce living with insecurity. Security guards in the region are said to work long hours, with payment that is sometimes late or absent benefits, in an industry that employs the continent as a whole as one of the biggest.

In South Africa, cases of non-compliance are recognised by Teboho Thejane, the spokesperson for the Department of Employment and Labour.

“The Department is aware of non-compliance relating to non-payment of contributions to the Provident Fund,” he says, noting that this is because the Security Sector Bargaining Council has constrained inspection capacity, with only 26 inspectors to check on more than 10,380 registered security firms and 663,000 personnel.

The department believes that there is significant under-reporting to the Unemployment Insurance Fund. “The non-compliance rate is now at 34 percent,” Thejane explains, mainly because small businesses are not making monthly returns.

“The government is acting on this, mainly through inspections, as well as advocacy interventions, where the sector that is identified is private security, which is a vulnerable sector.”

The unions, as well as worker organisations, take a bleaker stance.

“Delayed cash payments for benefits are systemic,” explains Kaglego Magoro, the chief operating officer of National Bargaining Council for the Private Security Sector (NBCPSS).

“Contributions to the Provident Fund, death benefits, as well as retrenchment packages are withheld, even when the amount has been deducted from the employee’s salary.”

According to Magoro, union representatives who support whistleblowers have been threatened. “There is a culture of fear,” she adds, “and this has to be linked to government contracts. Companies that do not honor benefit obligations should not be considered for government contracts,” she said.

Such reports also come from Khumbulani Moyo, an industry consultant, who gives child benefits that are paid a year late, compensation for injuries that takes three years, and guards, who are supposed to protect government tenders, waiting for salaries to be paid.

“Union officials have been threatened with death when they follow the money,” he says.

Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU), on the other hand, indicates that the problem is even bigger than reported cases. The national spokesperson, Zanele Sabela, points to a September 2025 report by the Financial Sector Conduct Authority that revealed the number of employers who defaulted on pension contributions has doubled to 15,521, leaving 600,000 people vulnerable.

“Private security is one of the highest defaulters,” she said, citing a High Court order that forced Mafoko Security guards to take back their assets to pay what they are owed in pensions.”

Such civil society organisations echo the same issue. Tebogo Mashilompane, a national leader of the Forum for South Africa, reports that his organisation is dealing with a cases file that is full of disputes over unpaid contributions to the provident fund.

“It’s systemic, not random cases,” he explains.

“Employees only find out years later that contributions were never paid, especially when the businesses are liquidated or renamed.”

Billions paid, but with little oversight

The scope of the problem is supported by regulatory research. The sector skills plans and legal assessments by Safety and Security Sector Education and Training Authority (SASSETA) point to a problem of low pay, a lack of adequate training standards, and problems with the administration of benefits in the safety and security sector. The results confirm the findings of the Geneva Centre for Security Sector Governance (DCAF) Southern Africa Private Security Companies’ Baseline Study, which reports that private companies fill a gap in policing but are subjected to regulatory oversight with fragmented governance.

“These are classic conditions that are ripe for regulatory capture, because regulators are underfunded. They’re financially dependent on industry charges, and they are working in a competitive tendering environment where political connections carry significant weight.”

The South African Financial Sector Conduct Authority confirms that it has engaged with the Private Security Sector Provident Fund regarding arrear contributions and allocations, although it chooses not to comment on current investigations.

“The FSCA has extended its supervisory scope on fund administrators,” says Zareena Camroodien, Head of Fund Governance.

Guns, power, and parallel policing

Beyond the exploitation of labor, there is a more sinister side that threatens people’s lives, which is firearms. Claire Taylor, a research and policy analyst with Gun Free South Africa, explains: “Private security is a huge loophole in the gun control regime.”

“PSiRA has continually warned that the dysfunction at the Central Firearms Registry means that the Authority is not aware of the firearm stockpiles within the industry,” she explains.

It has been documented that on average, the loss/theft of five firearms are reported by private security companies daily. In one instance, 152 firearms were seized from non-functional private security companies in South Africa’s Limpopo Province by the South African Police Service (SAPS).

Taylor gives evidence of deliberate criminal activity, such as private security firms being used to protect armed gangs, guards doubling up as hitmen, and ammunition meant to be stored securely finding its way to crime syndicates instead.

“The industry is responsible for managing life-threatening weapons that are worth billions, but is not accountable to Parliament, nor is it accountable to the public,” she says.

The Institute of Security Studies echo these concerns. Willem Els, senior Training Coordinator of the Institute for Security Studies (ISS), warns that “there are more private security personnel than there are police and military members combined. If this sector is not regulated, it is going to blow up in our faces,” he said, citing problems with the Central Firearms Registry, unpredictable stockpiles, and lack of inspections at the PSiRA.

Cross border giants and democratic risk

The existence of such developments are also being witnessed in East Africa. Ernest Cornel, a senior Communications Officer with the Kenya Human Rights Commission, explains: “To date, state institutions such as the Kenya Ports Authority, as well as public hospitals, are outsourcing the provision of security services to private companies. This is a matter of concern because such functions were originally the preserve of the state.” The protection of personal information is a matter of concern.

Referring to the rising position of giant transnational corporations such as G4S, Securitas, and Fidelity, Dr. Mangai says, “These players are competing for highly politicised contracts while assigning risks pertaining to labor and human rights to the subcontractors. Meanwhile, they maintain massive systems of surveillance and intelligence that are largely dependent on the state.”

Not all Industry voices are negative about reform. “Responsible businesses need to demand that ethics are upheld,” asserts Johan Vorster, operational Director of Tensho Defence.

“We trace kit via serial numbers, audit partners, and terminate contracts when transparency cannot be guaranteed,” he continues.

“Service providers need to assist with safeguarding staff while refusing unethical clients.”

Paying for protection

The research is careful not to pathologies the sector. The 2024 comparative research, as well as the DCAF baseline, recognise that private security has become a structurally necessary development in conditions of weak state delivery of law enforcement.

What is revealed is a two-tier system of security. Those who can pay live behind armed patrols and surveillance systems. Those who cannot rely on an overstretched police service, informal vigilantes or nothing at all. Meanwhile, millions of guards work long hours, often without the benefits deducted from their wages, in an industry awash with cash and influence.

“This is not a labor problem, this is a democratic problem, because we’re privatizing force without transparency, accountability, oversight,” declares Dr. Mangai.

In Johannesburg, Nairobi, Dar-es-Salaam, the signals from regulators, researchers, and labour confirm that private security has emerged as one of the most dominant, but least recognised, political actors on the African continent. The invisible gatekeepers are now pivoting from securing the peripheries to securing the state.

Mkhululi Chimoio is a South Africa-based solutions-oriented journalist and communications strategist, whose work spans investigative reporting, policy analysis, and advocacy—bringing nuanced insight and impact to both African media and diplomatic initiatives.

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