Key Takeaways
- This article looks at people in low-income and lower-middle-income countries who can only go online in short, fragile moments during the day.
- It follows one day, from morning to early dawn, in places such as Chad (Africa), Haiti (North America), Burkina Faso (Africa), Liberia (Africa), Niger (Africa), Sri Lanka (Asia), Moldova (Europe), Laos (Asia), Timor-Leste (Asia) and others.
- It shows how work, money, power cuts, weak signal and the price of mobile data shape those moments of connection.
- It ends with a small experiment: inviting readers to share how they connect, and to send the article to someone whose internet is also fragile.
Story & Details
A day built around one short connection
In many rich countries, the internet feels like air. It is always there. Phones stay online all day. Video calls, streaming and cloud backups happen in the background.
In many other countries, that is not the case.
In December 2025, global figures show that about three out of four people in the world are now online, around six billion human beings. Yet more than two billion people are still offline. Even among those who do connect, many do not enjoy fast, cheap or stable service. The gap between high-income and low-income countries remains wide. In wealthy countries, almost everyone uses the internet. In the poorest countries, less than a third of people do. Slow networks, expensive data and weak digital skills all play a part.
Behind these numbers, there are everyday scenes. They take place in cities such as N’Djamena in Chad (Africa), Port-au-Prince in Haiti (North America), Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso (Africa), Monrovia in Liberia (Africa), Juba in South Sudan (Africa), Colombo in Sri Lanka (Asia), Chişinău in Moldova (Europe), Vientiane in Laos (Asia), Dili in Timor-Leste (Asia), Bangui in the Central African Republic (Africa), Bissau in Guinea-Bissau (Africa), Moroni in Comoros (Africa), Djibouti City in Djibouti (Africa), Banjul in Gambia (Africa) and Malabo in Equatorial Guinea (Africa). They also unfold in countless villages, where one bar of mobile signal is already a small victory.
This is a day in that world.
Morning: work first, signal later
Morning in N’Djamena, Chad (Africa). The light is strong and the heat is already rising. Market sellers think first about filling their tables with food and goods. Data is not the main priority. A person checks a phone quickly if there is a little prepaid balance left: a short look at messages, maybe one social media notification, a missed call. Watching long videos or joining a video meeting is not part of the plan. The choice is clear: pay for transport, water and food, or keep a few megabytes.
In Port-au-Prince, Haiti (North America), the start of the day is often noisy and uncertain. Power cuts can arrive without warning. A phone lies on a table with a nearly empty battery. Its owner thinks that the first goal is to find electricity, maybe at home later, maybe at work, maybe at a neighbour’s place. Replies to messages must wait. Life goes on in the street: sweeping doorways, cooking, talking face to face, fixing broken things.
In a rural area of Niger (Africa), the morning begins with work in the fields, walks to collect water, and care for animals. Internet access is not a normal part of this routine. Signal comes in and goes out like the wind. People know exactly where the phone can catch one or two bars: under a certain tree, on a small hill, near the main road. It is possible to spend an entire morning, or an entire day, with no connection at all. Then, in five short minutes, a series of voice notes from relatives abroad might finally download.
In Bangui, in the Central African Republic (Africa), many people still get news from the radio. The radio does not ask for data; it only needs batteries or a bit of power. A mobile phone may sit next to it, waiting for a time when there is enough credit for a small data session. The morning is full of complicated travel to work and careful counting of coins. The internet waits quietly in the background.
Midday: hard choices at the top-up counter
By midday in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso (Africa), the sun feels heavy. People who work in the informal economy live with small, daily payments. At the corner shop or kiosk, the person behind the counter sells both food and mobile top-ups. A simple question appears in many minds: is today’s money for rice and vegetables, or for data? Often food wins, and online life must pause for another day.
In Monrovia, Liberia (Africa), midday might mean a trip to a cybercafé. Someone pays for one hour on a shared computer. The connection is not fast, but it is enough to open an email account, send a document, upload a CV for a job, or complete a form for a scholarship or visa. The clock keeps moving even when the page does not load. If the internet drops, there is nothing to do but wait and hope it comes back before the hour is over.
In Bissau, Guinea-Bissau (Africa), not everyone owns a phone. One device can serve a whole family or a group of neighbours. When one person manages to recharge a small data bundle, that person becomes a bridge for others. Friends pass the phone around to listen to voice messages from relatives in other countries. Children watch a short clip. Someone sends a simple “I am fine” message that has been in their head for days.
In Moroni, on the islands of Comoros (Africa), the sea surrounds the city. The distance to other lands is clear and physical. Internet access exists but is often weak and expensive. Around midday, office workers or people in tourism may sit in front of computers with steady connectivity. At the same time, those in poorer districts stay offline, saving coins for a later recharge. For them, the internet is a promise for the evening: “I will connect later, when I can.”
Afternoon: screens switch on after work
In Juba, South Sudan (Africa), afternoon brings a mix of tiredness and stubborn hope. The country has known war and displacement, but daily life keeps moving. When work is done and there is a bit of prepaid balance, phones come out. Messages arrive from people in camps, from friends in the capital, from relatives who left for other countries. Group chats carry both jokes and hard news. A single successful call can change the mood of the day.
In Banjul, Gambia (Africa), staff in hotels watch visitors sit beside pools with strong Wi-Fi. Tourists upload photos, stream films and make video calls without thinking much about cost. In other parts of the city, someone counts coins and buys just enough credit to chat for a while or read the latest headlines. Sometimes the feeling is curiosity, sometimes frustration, sometimes simple acceptance. When the signal finally appears, the rest of the world appears with it.
In Sri Lanka (Asia), many people spend the afternoon in shops, tea plantations, offices and street stalls. At the end of a shift, phones light up with notifications: news about the economy, changes in prices, job offers in other countries, and messages from family members who already left. For many, the internet is a thin line between the present and a possible future elsewhere.
In Moldova (Europe), a small country between larger neighbours, the afternoon might pass in a café with decent Wi-Fi. A student or young worker sits with a laptop and searches for work in the European Union, checks scholarship options, or looks at cheap flights. Stories of people who migrated, and of people who returned, fill the screen. The open question is simple but heavy: stay and build something here, or leave and try somewhere else?
Night: cheap bundles, shared hotspots, tired eyes
In Vientiane, Laos (Asia), many mobile operators offer cheaper night data bundles. For some students and young workers, this is the only time of day when they can afford to be fully online. Lessons are downloaded, videos are watched, long chats take place. Body and mind are tired, but the offer is too important to ignore.
In Dili, Timor-Leste (Asia), people remember a long struggle for independence, but many young people also dream in several languages at once. They write messages and posts mixing Tetum, Portuguese, English and Indonesian. When the Wi-Fi in a home, school or office finally works well in the evening, tasks are sent to teachers, job applications move forward and family photos are shared with relatives who now live far away.
In Djibouti City, Djibouti (Africa), a small country in a strategic location, people sometimes sit outside offices or shops at night just to catch a stronger signal from inside. Only part of a video will load. Not every image will appear. Even so, a short voice note from a son at sea or a daughter in another town can make the walk and the wait worthwhile.
In Malabo, Equatorial Guinea (Africa), large buildings and oil wealth can give an impression of modern comfort, but access to the internet is still unequal. For some residents, an evening with fast home broadband looks very normal: films, games, endless scrolling. For others, each extra megabyte is a cost that must be justified. A neighbour’s hotspot or a single corner of a public square where the signal is stronger becomes a precious resource.
Early dawn: the last message and a small experiment
Near dawn, when most windows are dark, some screens are still lit. In Monrovia, Liberia (Africa), a student may finish a school assignment in a cybercafé that closes late at night. In Colombo, Sri Lanka (Asia), a worker might end a video call with family in another time zone and quickly check the latest exchange rate or job listing before bed. In Chişinău, Moldova (Europe), someone doing remote work for a foreign company closes one last report and hopes that the connection will hold again tomorrow.
Many others, in places like Niger (Africa), Chad (Africa), Haiti (North America), South Sudan (Africa), Comoros (Africa) and beyond, wait for one last chance to send an important message when power returns or when the air cools a little. It might be a simple line saying “I arrived safely” or “I miss you.” After that, the phone is turned off to save battery, and the day is over.
There is also a quiet experiment. The idea is simple. Readers are invited to write a short comment about their own connection: which country and city they are in, how they normally get online (mobile data, home Wi-Fi, work network, cybercafé, shared phone), what frustrates them the most (price, speed, power cuts, censorship, lack of coverage) and what they are most thankful for when the connection does work. Each new place that appears in these comments shows that so-called “grey countries” on web maps are not empty at all.
Readers are also invited to send the article to one other person whose internet is fragile. It could be someone in a village, an old friend in another country, or a relative who often says that the local internet is terrible. A short personal note can go with the link: “I thought of you when I read this. Open it when you have signal and tell me if you see your own situation inside.” If that person one day reads it, even after some delays and disconnections, the map of the world will be a little less abstract.
Along the way, language also plays a role. In Dutch, for example, the phrase “slechte verbinding” means “bad connection”. People in the Netherlands use it when a call cuts out or a video freezes. For many readers of this article, “bad connection” is not only a small annoyance. It is a daily barrier between their lives and the digital services that others now take for granted.
Conclusions
A thin line of light
The global digital divide is often presented as a story of cables, towers and satellites. These things matter a lot, but they are only part of the picture. The rest lives in tiny decisions made every day: to buy a few megabytes or a small bag of rice, to walk to a hill for better signal, to stay awake for a cheaper night bundle, to share a single phone with several people.
As of December 2025, major organisations still warn that being “online” is not the same everywhere. In many low-income countries, mobile data remains too expensive for large parts of the population. Coverage can be weak outside big cities. Public spaces that offer free or cheap access are often crowded or rare. Even when the signal is strong enough, many people do not have the skills or safe conditions they need to use digital tools with confidence.
Yet each fragile connection also opens something real. A job application sent from a cybercafé in Monrovia, a health question delivered by message from a village in Niger, a school assignment uploaded from a night-time bundle in Laos, a family video call from a borrowed hotspot in Djibouti City — all of these moments show that the internet is not only entertainment. It is also a path to opportunity, safety and belonging.
When someone reads this article on a stable fibre line, that person stands at one end of the divide. When someone else reads it on a shared phone after walking to find a signal, that person stands at the other. The distance between them is not only in kilometres. It is in price, speed, skills and risk. But while they read the same words, that distance becomes a little smaller.
If more people share their own stories of connection — where they live, how they get online, what makes them angry and what makes them grateful — the maps that show the world in bright and grey colours will start to look less empty. Behind every small dot of traffic, there is at least one person holding a device in their hand, making the most of a short moment before the signal drops. That short moment is a thin line of light, and it matters.
Selected References
[1] International Telecommunication Union. “Facts and Figures 2025: Global internet users rise but digital divides persist.” Key findings on the number of people online, remaining offline populations and gaps between high-income and low-income countries. https://www.itu.int/itu-d/reports/statistics/
[2] United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs. “Global Internet use continues to rise but disparities remain.” Short overview of 2024 internet use statistics and regional gaps. https://social.desa.un.org/sdn/global-internet-use-continues-to-rise-but-disparities-remain
[3] World Bank. “Digital Development – Overview.” Summary of how digital infrastructure, skills and policies are linked to broader development goals and what is being done to close the digital divide. https://www.worldbank.org/en/topic/digital/overview
[4] GSMA. “The state of mobile internet connectivity in Sub-Saharan Africa.” Blog article on coverage, usage gaps and barriers such as affordability and skills. https://www.gsma.com/solutions-and-impact/connectivity-for-good/mobile-for-development/blog/the-state-of-mobile-internet-connectivity-in-sub-saharan-africa/
[5] World Bank. “What Would a World Be Like Without Digital Solutions? Let’s Close the Digital Divide.” Short video on the development impact of the digital divide and the policies needed to narrow it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUjqJWZezNU
Appendix
Borrowed Wi-Fi: A simple way to describe internet access that does not come from a private, always-on connection, but from shared or fragile sources such as a neighbour’s hotspot, a café network, a school or office signal that reaches the street, or a small prepaid data bundle used with care.
Cybercafé: A public place where customers pay to use computers connected to the internet, often by the hour or by the minute, which can be essential in cities and towns where many people do not own a personal computer or cannot afford a strong home connection.
Digital divide: The gap between people, communities or countries that enjoy fast, affordable, safe and reliable internet access and those that do not, due to factors such as income, geography, gender, language, education, infrastructure and the price of devices and data.
Grey countries: An informal phrase for countries that appear in pale colours or almost invisible on web traffic maps and analytics dashboards, not because nobody lives or connects there, but because there are far fewer visits recorded than in richer parts of the world.
Night data bundle: A special mobile data offer that is cheaper but only works during late-night or very early-morning hours, which can push students, workers and families to stay awake or adjust their routines in order to make use of more affordable internet.
Shared phone: A situation in which one mobile phone is used by several people, such as members of the same family, neighbours or friends, so that they can all listen to voice messages, send important texts or check basic information even if only one person owns the device.
My Diary - Leonardo Cardillo 