- A disputed board, racing against a court judgment, has ratified a “regional lock-in” policy that critics warn will strip millions in value from African digital assets.
- With liquidity crushed and exit routes sealed, the Number Resource Society is launching a class action to stop what they call an ultra vires power grab before it becomes irreversible.
In the high-stakes world of internet infrastructure, silence is often more dangerous than noise. On February 4, 2026, amidst a governance crisis that has paralyzed the African Network Information Centre (AFRINIC) for years, its administration quietly ratified a policy that critics say will fundamentally alter the economic reality of the continent’s digital future.
Proposal 2020-GEN-006-D3 designates the entire AFRINIC-managed IPv4 pool as strictly “regional.” To the uninitiated, it sounds like bureaucratic housekeeping. To those who understand the global market for internet addresses, it is a calculated act of structural confinement—a lock-in mechanism designed to trap member assets within a single jurisdiction, destroying their liquidity and, by extension, their value.
The Number Resource Society (NRS), a vocal advocacy group representing resource holders, has sounded the alarm. They describe the move as ultra vires—an act beyond the legal authority of a board whose very legitimacy is currently being contested in the Supreme Court of Mauritius.
“This is not a label. It is a cage,” says Lu Heng, CEO of LARUS Limited and a veteran analyst of global internet governance. “Restrict exit, crush liquidity, discount your asset. This isn’t politics. This is your balance sheet.”
A House Built on Sand
To understand the fury surrounding this policy, one must first navigate the murky waters of AFRINIC’s recent history. As one of five Regional Internet Registries (RIRs) globally, AFRINIC manages the critical numbering resources for 54 African nations. But since 2022, it has been embroiled in a saga of litigation, alleged fraud, and leadership vacuums that has turned a technical body into a global cautionary tale.
Hope briefly flickered in June 2025 when the Supreme Court of Mauritius appointed receiver Gowtamsingh Dabee to oversee fresh elections. The community breathed a cautious sigh of relief, expecting a return to normalcy. Instead, they got chaos.
Minutes before polls were set to close, the Nominations Committee suspended the entire election. The catalyst was a staggering claim: one party held powers of attorney for nearly half of AFRINIC’s membership—over 800 proxies in a body of fewer than 2,400. The South African Internet Service Providers’ Association (ISPA) subsequently filed criminal complaints, alleging forgery. They cited cases where members arrived to vote in person, only to find their ballots had already been cast by unseen proxies using signatures they claimed never to have given.
Rather than investigating the specific fraudulent ballots, the committee invalidated all 800+ proxies and voided the election. A second vote in September 2025 produced a board claiming an overwhelming 90% mandate. Yet, confidence remained shattered. Former chairman Benjamin Adzenyamebeye Eshun has since filed complaints alleging the receiver violated bylaws to rush the process.
Today, the Supreme Court is still deliberating on whether this board is lawfully constituted. Yet, in the shadow of this judicial uncertainty, that same disputed Board has moved with unprecedented speed to ratify a policy with irreversible economic consequences.
The Economics of Entrapment
The mechanics of the trap are simple but devastating. With the global supply of IPv4 addresses exhausted, these digital coordinates have become scarce commodities, traded on a robust secondary market. Their value is driven by optionality—the ability to transfer blocks across borders to regions where demand and price are higher.
By branding all AFRINIC resources as “Regional,” the new policy severs inter-RIR mobility. The economic chain reaction is immediate: no mobility means no liquidity. No liquidity means assets trade at a steep discount.
“Scarcity only creates leverage if you have options,” Heng explains, his voice tinged with the frustration of watching a market principle being ignored. “If you cannot move your asset, you cannot arbitrage. You are trapped inside a controlled environment. A trapped asset is a devalued asset. That discount is paid for by the member, not the registry.”
For a small ISP holding a modest block, the loss might be thousands of dollars. For larger enterprises holding significant allocations, the erosion of value could run into the millions. The NRS argues this is not incompetence; it is a feature, not a bug. By destroying the exit option, the administration insulates itself from market discipline. In corporate governance, the threat of shareholder exit keeps management honest. In internet governance, the threat of resource transfer serves the same function. Remove that threat, and the registry becomes untouchable.
The Pattern of Consolidation
Critics see a disturbing pattern emerging from AFRINIC: break the rules, then rewrite them to legitimize the breach.
“The sequence is clear,” the NRS stated in a recent briefing. “First, claim an electoral mandate through questionable means. Second, use that claimed legitimacy to justify economic confinement. Third, cement control before the courts can rule on the legality of the regime itself.”
The timing is suspicious, to say the least. The policy had previously been attempted without a quorate board and was set aside following community appeals. Reviving it now, while the Board’s existence is legally precarious, suggests a desperate race against time. The goal, critics argue, is to create “irreversible facts” on the ground. Even if the Court eventually rules the Board unlawful, the market may have already adjusted, liquidity may have dried up, and the devaluation will be a fait accompli.
“This is desperation,” Heng notes. “And desperation for control is always paid for by those whose assets are confined.”
The Administration Pushes Back
AFRINIC has dismissed the outcry as a “misinformation campaign.” In a communiqué dated February 18, the organization insisted the policy “does not confiscate resources” or revoke lawful rights. They maintain the move was developed through an “open, consensus-based” process and merely clarifies transfer conditions to align with global standards.
But to seasoned observers, procedural box-ticking cannot substitute for genuine legitimacy. A policy ratified by a board whose authority is under active judicial review is, in the eyes of many legal experts, built on sand. If the foundation is flawed, the structure above it cannot stand.
The Battle Lines Are Drawn
The NRS is now preparing coordinated class legal action, arguing that a court-appointed receiver’s mandate is preservative, not legislative. Their role is to stabilize the ship, not permanently redesign the cargo hold. Legal experts agree: powers of this magnitude are not implied. When in doubt, a Receiver must seek directions from the Court, not forge ahead with controversial structural changes.
“The longer this lock-in is treated as ‘normal,’ the harder it is to unwind,” the NRS warns. “Every day of delay increases your exposure. Inaction is how lock-in becomes permanent.”
For AFRINIC’s members—ISPs, tech giants, and universities across the continent—the choice is stark. They can accept a discounted, illiquid future, or they can challenge what they see as an ultra vires power grab while the legal window remains open.
As the Supreme Court deliberates and the legal papers pile up, the outcome will define more than just the future of one registry. It will test a fundamental principle of the internet: do resource holders retain sovereignty over their digital assets, or can registries unilaterally alter the terms of ownership to entrench their own power?
“If members do nothing, this becomes normal,” Heng concludes. “And when leverage disappears, governance stops listening.”
The coming weeks will tell whether AFRINIC’s members remain participants in their own destiny or merely inventory in someone else’s ledger.
