The Illusion of Control

Observing the same pattern

Over the past few years, we have seen the same pattern repeat itself across very different contexts.

In Senegal, when we were supplying fruits and vegetables to large retailers.

In Ghana, when we worked with an industrial buyer sourcing groundnuts.

And more recently, in discussions with another client facing recurring stock ruptures and unpredictable quality.

In all these cases, the purchasing model was identical: weekly tenders, constant price renegotiations, and decisions driven by the market of the moment.

It looks agile. It feels efficient.

But in reality, it creates a cycle of instability that no one truly controls.

The comfort of reacting

This model gives a sense of control. Adjusting prices every week feels like mastery. Avoiding long-term commitments feels like risk management.

But over time, this flexibility turns into dependency. Dependency on market fluctuations, on intermediaries who fill the gaps, and on systems that feed uncertainty.

We often call it agility, but in practice it is a way of coping with volatility.

And the more we react, the less we can plan.

This illusion of control is powerful because it is emotional. It gives a sense of activity, of movement, of choice. Yet the more energy it consumes, the less strategic direction it provides.

When distrust becomes a system

The behaviours we observe are not irrational. They are the result of years of broken promises, delayed payments and unreliable relationships.

In many value chains, distrust has become the default operating mode, not by choice but by survival instinct.

When trust disappears, others step in. They take the risks others avoid, impose their own rules, add layers, and capture value in between.

Each added layer makes the chain longer, more complex and more fragile.

We end up with ecosystems where everyone protects themselves but no one truly collaborates.

A system designed to manage risk ends up multiplying it.

What it reveals about the system

These patterns are not unique to one country or one sector. They are symptoms of a deeper structural reality: the absence of confidence as an organising principle. In its place, we have learned to rely on procedures, intermediaries and short-term fixes. They provide a form of safety but little predictability.

What looks like freedom of choice is often the absence of collective security.And in that space, opportunism thrives.

Learning to anticipate again

Maybe the question is not whether flexibility is good or bad, but whether we can afford to keep navigating blindly. What if the way forward was not about reacting faster, but about anticipating better? Not through promises, but through measurable, shared data: visibility on prices, volumes, quality and timelines.

Reducing uncertainty does not mean losing freedom. It means freeing ourselves from the constant negotiation of the unknown. It means creating the conditions where trust can be rebuilt, slowly but surely.

The quiet foundation of resilience

Every conversation we have with buyers and suppliers brings us back to the same point: the challenge is not capability, it is confidence.

Confidence in partners.

Confidence in systems.

Confidence in time itself.

Trust is still the rarest form of efficiency.

About this reflection

This reflection was written by the Afrikamart team, drawing on field experiences in West African value chains. It is part of an ongoing series on structuring and transforming agricultural supply ecosystems across Africa.