Gift or Rent? How TikTok Reconfigures Value, Labor and Precarity for African Entrepreneur Creators

In the bustling digital economies of Africa, a new kind of work has emerged where people build their livelihoods by performing for an audience on social media. This field sits at the intersection of how humans connect and how money moves. For decades, scholars have studied the difference between a gift, which is given freely to build a relationship, and a payment, which is exchanged for a specific service. In the modern online world, these two concepts often blur. A viewer might send a virtual flower to a streamer, calling it a gift out of affection, while the streamer treats it as income to pay rent. The question researchers have long debated is whether this blurring is a happy accident of human connection or a clever trick by the technology companies that run the platforms. If the line between a gift and a payment is truly blurred, it changes how we understand the risks and rewards for the people working in this space.

A team of researchers from universities in Nigeria and Kenya set out to investigate this exact dynamic on TikTok, specifically looking at how creators in Lagos and Nairobi experience the virtual gifting system. They focused on a specific group: entrepreneurs who use the platform to earn money. The researchers wanted to know if these creators felt the money they received was a genuine gift from a fan or a transactional payment for their work, and how this feeling affected their sense of financial security. To find the answer, they spoke with 384 creators through surveys and conducted in-depth interviews with 20 of them. They looked for patterns in how these creators described their earnings, their fears about the platform, and their daily struggles.

The study found that the reality is more complex than simply being tricked or being fully aware. The creators do not see their earnings as purely one thing or the other. Instead, they hold two ideas at the same time: they understand that the money is a payment for their performance, yet they also treat it as a gift that strengthens their bond with their fans. This dual perspective is not a sign of confusion. The researchers discovered that the creators are actively managing this balance. They know that if they stop performing, the "gifts" stop coming, which proves the transactional nature of the income. At the same time, they value the emotional connection that makes the fan want to send the gift in the first place. This ability to see both sides is a skill the creators use to make sense of their work.

However, this dual perspective has a hidden cost. The study revealed that when creators focus on the "gift" aspect of the transaction, they tend to notice less of the platform's role in taking a large, undisclosed share of the money. The platform acts as a middleman that sets the rules for how coins are converted into cash, often keeping a significant portion without clearly explaining the math. When creators view the interaction as a gift, they are less likely to question how much the platform keeps. This lack of scrutiny does not mean they are unaware of the platform's power; rather, they choose to keep the focus on the relationship with their fans. The researchers found that this framing does not protect them from financial insecurity. In fact, the more a creator depends on this single source of income, the more insecure they feel, regardless of how much money they actually make.

The most significant finding concerns the nature of the insecurity these creators face. The study showed that it is not the total amount of money earned that determines how safe a creator feels, but how much they rely on the platform for that money. Even creators who earn a decent amount feel vulnerable if that income comes entirely from virtual gifts. This vulnerability is driven by the platform's ability to change the rules, hide the commission rates, or suddenly stop a creator's ability to earn without a clear explanation. The researchers also uncovered a new type of risk that previous studies had missed: physical exhaustion. Creators reported that the pressure to perform live for hours leads to real physical strain, such as voice loss or injury, with no safety net if they get sick. This physical toll exists alongside the financial uncertainty, creating a layer of risk that is not captured by looking at bank accounts alone.

The research suggests that the solution to these problems is not just about giving creators more information. While knowing the exact commission rate would help, the study indicates that the feeling of the transaction as a gift is a choice the creators make to maintain their relationship with their audience, not a mistake they need to be corrected. The real issue lies in the lack of transparency and the arbitrary power the platform holds over the creators' livelihoods. The creators are not passive victims of a system they do not understand; they are skilled workers navigating a complex environment where they must balance the emotional needs of their fans with the harsh economic realities of a system that takes a large cut of their earnings. The study concludes that the distance between what the creator sees and what the platform controls is where the power lies, and closing that gap requires changes to how the platform operates, not just how the creators think about their work.