On 25 September 2026, NetBlocks reported that network data showed "a subnational internet disruption in northern Ethiopia corresponding to reports of a telecoms blackout in Tigray." The outage came as fighting resumed between federal and Tigrayan forces. Reuters reported that calls to numbers on state operator Ethio Telecom's network did not connect, and that Safaricom customers had only limited connectivity.
Who cut the network is disputed
Attribution matters here, and it is unsettled. Reuters, citing four people with knowledge of the matter, reported that the Tigray People's Liberation Front (TPLF) ordered both Ethio Telecom and Safaricom to shut down the networks. One source suggested the aim was to deny government drones access to the mobile network. The TPLF did not respond to a request for comment. A source close to the group denied responsibility and blamed the government. Ethio Telecom, Safaricom's Ethiopian unit and the Prime Minister's office did not respond to Reuters either. Reuters could not independently confirm battlefield reports.
This is a different story from the one many readers will expect. Ethiopia's federal government has a documented history of ordering shutdowns, including in Tigray and Amhara. Access Now's #KeepItOn report for 2023 described a prolonged shutdown that lasted the entire year for millions of people in those two regions. But on the evidence published so far, we cannot say who ordered this outage. A policy analysis should not assume it.
The strongest case for a cut
The case for restricting networks in wartime deserves a fair hearing. Mobile networks can carry targeting data, coordinate drone operations and spread incitement. A commander who believes that a signal is helping an enemy has a real security reason to switch it off. If the Reuters sources are right, that is the reasoning being applied here. Governments have also long argued that shutdowns are a lawful, proportionate tool during emergencies.
Why the argument fails on its own terms
The trouble is that a regional blackout is a blunt instrument. It cannot separate a drone operator from a nurse, a farmer or a mobile-money agent. The costs fall on civilians first. Access Now's 2021 statement on Tigray warned that the blackout cut off banking and humanitarian coordination and left journalists and rights defenders unable to monitor events. It also invoked the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights for state-owned operators such as Ethio Telecom. The same logic applies to a private operator like Safaricom when it receives an order, whoever issues it.
The human stakes are not abstract. Reuters notes that the clashes broke a four-year-old peace deal that ended the 2020–2022 war, which the African Union estimated killed about 600,000 people. In that war, Tigray's long communications siege became a defining feature. A new blackout revives fears of a repeat. It also removes the independent evidence that would let outsiders test either side's claims. The Ethiopian military says it killed 436 Tigrayan fighters and wounded 220 over recent days, and a senior Tigrayan official said those figures were not exaggerated. Without open networks, nobody else can check them.
There is also an economic cost. Shutdowns freeze payments and logistics, and they erode the trust that investors and operators need before putting capital into a market. For a country trying to grow a digital economy, each cut lengthens the risk premium on every future connectivity project.
What the regional standard says
Africa has a developed norm against shutdowns. The African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights adopted its Declaration of Principles on Freedom of Expression and Access to Information in Africa in 2019. Principle 38(2) says states should not interfere with internet access for segments of the public or the whole population. In March 2024 it followed with Resolution 580 on Internet Shutdowns and Elections in Africa. That text is explicitly about elections, so it does not directly govern a wartime outage. But it asks states to keep access open and secure and to refrain from ordering shutdowns. It also asks them to require operators to notify users of likely disruptions and to resolve outages promptly. Those duties are sensible well beyond ballots.
The weakness is enforcement. The Commission's resolutions are persuasive rather than binding, and the trend has not turned. Access Now counted at least 283 shutdowns in 39 countries worldwide in 2023, up 41% from 2022, and 17 in Africa. Ethiopia appears repeatedly in its Africa tallies. Access Now had recorded at least 26 Ethiopian shutdowns since 2016 as of 2023, and we rely on that documented count rather than the higher figure of more than 30 cited in some coverage. The documented pattern is enough.
A proportionate alternative
A pro-innovation, rights-respecting approach would not ignore the security concern. It would narrow the response. Where a specific network function poses a demonstrable military risk, authorities and operators can use targeted, time-limited measures. These should be written down, notified to users and subject to review, rather than a region-wide cut. Operators should publish any orders they receive. They should also have a clear legal basis to challenge unlawful ones, and a duty to restore service quickly when the justification lapses.
The Tigray outage also tests the position of private operators. Safaricom entered Ethiopia on the promise of connecting people. If it is complying with orders from any armed actor, its customers deserve to know under what authority. Transparency is the minimum, and it costs far less than a blackout.
Until independent monitors can say who cut the network and why, the right response is to restore service, publish the orders and let outsiders verify what is happening. Silence in Tigray has already been tried once, and it did not make that war shorter or more humane.