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On the morning of August 19, Sylvia Gathoni, better known in the gaming world as QueenArrow, opened her inbox to find an email from Twitch.
At first glance, it looked routine, until she realised its message would alter the future of her streaming career.
Twitch, the Amazon-owned platform that has become a lifeline for gamers and content creators worldwide, was suspending monetisation for Kenyan creators.
Sylvia Gathoni, better known in the gaming world as QueenArrow
Overnight, streamers across the country lost their ability to earn from subscriptions, bits, and ads.
“I was flabbergasted and then angry,” Sylvia recalls “This was linked to the Finance Bill 2023 and 2025 from what they inferred using the term ‘recently imposed policies."
For Queen Arrow, one of Africa’s pioneering female esports professionals and a Twitch streamer since 2020, the email wasn’t just a corporate notice; it was a personal and professional blow.
At just 26 years old, she has shattered glass ceilings, becoming the first professional female gamer in East Africa and a formidable contender in the Tekken fighting game circuit.
Streaming was never Sylvia’s only source of income, but it represented more than just money. It was a platform that allowed her to share gaming culture from Africa with the world.
Sylvia Gathoni, better known in the gaming world as QueenArrow
“Twitch wasn’t exactly the best when it came to revenue sharing, but at the end of the day, money is still money,” she explains.
Not to mention that the platform it offered streamers from the continent was worthwhile. We can still stream there, but the fact is, we cannot earn anymore.
The suspension means Kenyan streamers can continue to build audiences on Twitch, but they cannot turn those communities into financial support.
For an industry already struggling to be recognised as legitimate work, the move feels like being pushed further into the shadows.
Sylvia Gathoni, better known in the gaming world as QueenArrow
Sylvia is not alone. She describes a wave of disillusionment among Kenyan gamers and streamers who had pinned hopes on Twitch as a gateway to the global creator economy.
“This will affect us because I don’t think we will be able to become affiliates and partners, which means no more earning anymore,” she says.
This is a loss for us as the creators and a loss for the world because we won’t be able to share what gaming is all about on this side of the world.
Conversations with fellow creators paint a divided picture. “A lot of them are sad about it because that’s a source of revenue and a loss of audience,” she notes.
Others are indifferent. All in all, it seems that YouTube, TikTok and Kick are where we will be moving to.
In essence, Twitch’s decision doesn’t just freeze Kenyan creators’ revenue; it risks fragmenting a growing community just as it was beginning to gain momentum.
At the heart of Twitch’s decision lies Kenya’s evolving tax landscape. In recent years, the government has introduced multiple levies on digital services, from streaming platforms to content creators themselves.
Twitch’s email cited “recently imposed policies,” which Sylvia interprets as a response to changes in the tax laws.
She does not mince words when speaking about the impact of such regulation. “It shows how myopic and tone-deaf the Kenya Kwanza government is because these taxation policies are very out of touch with the current reality on the ground,” she says.
Not everything in this country needs to be taxed, and all for what, a Sh2 million, which is a drop in the revenue targets the government is trying to meet.
Beyond the numbers, Sylvia believes the policies reveal a deeper disconnect. “They do not see what we do as work and that is why their policies are largely removed from the lived realities of those of us who are now affected by these policies.”
Her frustration echoes a wider sentiment among Kenya’s digital creators who argue that taxation should go hand in hand with support systems, infrastructure, recognition, and policies that enable growth. Without that balance, the taxes simply feel punitive.
With monetisation off the table, many Kenyan creators are now exploring alternatives. YouTube, TikTok, and Kick are emerging as the next best options.
Each platform, however, comes with its own trade-offs, algorithm features, discoverability challenges, and varying revenue-sharing models.
For QueenArrow, diversification feels like the only way forward. “I’m exploring other alternatives, but truth be told, it is quite difficult as each platform has its pros and cons,” she admits.
The disruption also raises bigger questions: Will Twitch’s absence from Kenya stifle the growth of a budding esports and streaming culture? Or will it accelerate creators’ migration to platforms that are more adaptable to African realities?
Despite her frustration, Sylvia is not giving up. She channels her energy into advocacy, calling on policymakers to reimagine how they engage with Kenya’s creative economy.
Twitch
The message I would send is this: it is about time that you saw what people do as work because that is the only way you will create humane and community-first policies that are reflective of the lived experiences of us as the creators. It’s either you get on board, or get out of the way.
Her words carry the urgency of a creator who sees both the promise and precarity of digital work in Kenya.
Twitch’s monetisation freeze in Kenya may appear to be a niche story about gamers, but it speaks to broader themes: the fragility of Africa’s creator economy, the risks of global platforms exiting local markets, and the growing need for governments to treat digital livelihoods with seriousness.
For Sylvia “QueenArrow” Gathoni, it’s personal. She built her career on passion, skill, and persistence in a space where few African women had ventured before.
Now, she faces yet another obstacle, but also another opportunity to lead.
Her journey underscores a reality that Kenya can no longer ignore: digital creativity is work, and it deserves the same recognition and support as any other profession.