Established in 2018, Nawali positioned itself as a trustworthy bridge between African expatriates and the dream of property ownership on the continent. Through a model combining tontines, interest-free financing, and turnkey real estate services, the company claimed to facilitate secure land purchases and home construction in countries like Senegal, Mali, Mauritania, The Gambia, and Ivory Coast. At the heart of Nawali’s appeal was Aïta Magassa herself, who leveraged her Franco-Mauritanian roots and experience in property management to build a brand centered on safety and transparency. The company’s communications strategy was highly effective, utilizing endorsements from major media outlets like Forbes Afrique, and influential YouTubers such as Philippe Simo and Oui Hustle to amplify its message across social platforms.
In interviews, Magassa described Nawali as a platform that helps people avoid scams” and expressed her ambition to become “the African real estate leader within three years.
By 2022, she claimed Nawali had grown to serve more than 600 clients and reached a business valuation of over €2.5 million.
Client trust erodes amid legal complaints
Despite its promising start, Nawali’s public image began to unravel following a surge in customer complaints in 2023. Discontent ranged from project delays and incomplete construction work to unexplained fund transfers and missing documentation. The most alarming concerns centered around financial irregularities and non-conforming land titles, which spurred multiple legal proceedings in France. According to the French prosecutor’s office, 97 victims have been identified, with damages totaling €1.268 million. Many of these clients, members of the African diaspora in France, claim to have entrusted Nawali with amounts ranging from €5,000 to €120,000 with little or no return. One particularly high-profile complaint came from influencer Hawa Diakité, who took to social media in November 2022 to accuse Nawali of defrauding her mother. According to her statement, an initial €11,000 payment for a villa in Gambia was followed by 15 months of installments, yet no visible construction had occurred. The situation escalated when the company responded with partial foundations and demanded resumed payments.
Irregularities and dubious documentation
Several clients have also reported receiving unauthentic land documents and facing difficulties verifying their property claims. In one notable case, a customer who purchased two plots in Yène, Senegal, waited two years for administrative clarification. When he finally received a response in December 2023, Nawali admitted to delays and stated it would investigate the land status. Since then, he claims to have received no follow-up. Further suspicion was raised when a “protocol agreement” involving the Yène municipal office appeared to validate Nawali’s operations. However, a subsequent inquiry revealed that the document was not officially issued by the town hall, and the signatory, Mamadou Sène, was unknown to municipal officials.
Some land sales were labeled as having been concluded in Dakar, though they were finalized in Paris. Payments were also reportedly made to Magassa’s personal account, raising further red flags.
From model company to cautionary tale
Nawali’s unraveling has sparked broader concern within the African diaspora, particularly among investors looking to contribute to development in their countries of origin. What began as a mission to provide “controlled and secure” real estate solutions now stands as a case study in the vulnerabilities of cross-border investment especially in a regulatory environment where due diligence, legal enforcement, and transparency remain fragile. In recent years, the African real estate market has attracted significant interest from diaspora investors drawn by competitive prices and patriotic motivation. However, as the Nawali case demonstrates, insufficient regulation and oversold guarantees can lead to devastating losses, eroding trust and slowing investment momentum.
As the trial approaches, stakeholders across France and West Africa await its outcome. For the plaintiffs, it is a chance to recover lost assets and hold Nawali accountable. For investors, it is a cautionary reminder to scrutinize projects, verify documentation, and demand transparency. Above all, the case of Aïta Magassa underscores the urgent need for credible regulation, secure legal frameworks, and third-party oversight in the diaspora investment space. Without these guardrails, even the most well-intentioned ventures risk collapsing under the weight of unmet promises and legal complications.
A founder on the defensive
Magassa, who has been placed under judicial supervision, denies all charges. Since her interrogation in June 2025, she has avoided media appearances, maintaining only that she is “presumed innocent until proven otherwise,” in a brief statement to Jeune Afrique. Nonetheless, the legal challenges mount. Alongside the criminal trial set for November 26, 2025, a commercial case has also been opened against Nawali by multiple plaintiffs, with representation by attorney Me Diane Ayeva Ingani. The proceedings are likely to determine not only Magassa’s legal fate but also the viability of Nawali’s continued operations in both France and Africa.

