Musi was a well-loved music app with over 66 million downloads. It didn’t host pirated files or shady links, it simply let users stream audio from YouTube videos through a clean, ad-supported interface. By all appearances, it was above board. But that didn’t stop Apple removing it from their store, without a single warning.
The app’s parent company, DO Global, had been running ad-clicking scripts behind the interface. These scripts were generating revenue by tapping ads without the users’ permission. The developers said they didn’t know it was happening.
AppGratis was an app discovery platform that helped users find daily deals on other apps. It wasn’t spammy, it wasn’t shady. It had a clean interface, real editorial curation, and millions of loyal users who trusted its recommendations.
Manomio’s Commodore 64 emulator was delightfully different. It wasn’t another grey-market retro app. It had licences, it offered only legal games, it had a clean interface and on-screen controls that let users enjoy a faithful, old-school experience.
We hear it all the time: “We’ve inherited this code from another team” or “The original developer left, and now we’re just trying to keep it running”. For tech leaders trying to regain control of legacy mobile apps, taking over inherited code can feel more like damage control than development.
That’s a dangerous place to be in, but it happens more often than you’d think. Maybe your development process seems tight, and you’ve done your internal testing.