Nairobians and their ‘know it all’ attitude

By John K Kariuki

Whereas flamboyance is the hottest selling social commodity in the country today, the largest concentration of pretentious people is in the capital Nairobi.

At a glance, they deem their ‘twang’ and grammatical mistakes as a standard that the rest of the country should emulate. At a typical function, Nairobians will always exaggerate their technological savviness and economic acumen.

"We are now paying 50cents per minute to browse in cyber cafes!" A hawker, who in all probability is a technophobe and has picked this jazz from the matatu chatter, will say with the authority that only Nairobians can muster.

Often, Nairobians are patronising, giving advice to their rural kin that may be at variance with common sense and local customs.

"Why can’t you rear pigs instead of the maize and beans which are uneconomical?"

It is an open social secret that some Nairobians are trendsetters to a fault, often originating new vices like confidence trickery, strip tease shows and partners’ swinging orgies.

City people often quote mind-boggling figures of property value, and especially cars, for the image it gives them. Yet they could be only one salary away from bankruptcy. Beneath their apparent sophistication and resourcefulness, city dwellers are lonely souls. They never appreciate the tranquillity of the countryside, away from their maddening and polluted streets.

Big talk

Often, we hear: "I come from Nairobi", but this is too amorphous. City dwellers coming from diverse locations like the leafy suburbs of Muthaiga –– where the jet set live –– to the Mathare slums –– where the urban proletariat survive –– will always allude to this phrase mesmerising villagers.

And you may have noticed the average Nairobian will never invite you to their house, giving friendship a new fleeting and treacherous definition. Instead, all meetings are held in cafes and pubs, which have taken the prominence of shrines. And even here, Nairobians are likely to shamelessly cross-examine each other instead of talking freely and openly as in normal comradeships in the rest of the world.

"Ati ulisema unalipwa 30g kwenye hiyo kampuni?" (So you claim to be earning Sh30,000 in that company?)

You must have chuckled, like me, at the sight of some Nairobians at bus stops. A typical city commuter will pretend not to see the available matatu at hand but gaze up to the distant clouds and chewing gum in an unruffled ‘cool’ poise. The commuter may glance at the conductor’s tunic, spot a missing button and decide not to ride in that vehicle regardless of latest registration number plate, sparkling hubcaps, latest DVD player and high output sound system. But at the slightest signs of rain, such frauds will stampede into the handiest matatu and pay double the price, unquestioningly.

In one rural function I recently attended, a crowd from Nairobi arrived in style. They came in a matatu adorned with offensive graffiti and hired cars. They carried their own Master of Ceremony and a space age public addresses system. This crowd belligerently rubbished all the prior arrangements and made their own programme for the day.

"In Nairobi, we often do things this way…" Their MC would say every now and then.

As for their wear, anybody with half an eye could see the Nairobi women’s fashions were a trifle unsettling to our rural sensibilities.

This crowd did not even wait for the customary tea at the end of the event, on account of their busy schedules. But reports came back on how they raided a roadside town where they drank in a rowdy feast till the wee hours.

From my social roving, often pick up the anguish of many rural schools’ administrators who have trouble with some city parents.

There was shock in one girls’ school when a student from Nairobi was caught with a sex toy. Her mother was summoned to the school and did not see anything wrong with it.

"The option is for her to catch HIV or get pregnant", the parent reasoned!

And in another upcountry school, some rowdy Nairobians hijacked a parents’ meeting with their own agenda.

"Can we be told how much it will cost to provide our children with hot water for bathing?" Their spokesperson demanded, ready for combat. And a 50 year- old tradition of cold showers was noisily discontinued. Next came the agenda of sausages and tea with milk, the cost of which would be passed on to the parents and I left the meeting. While some Nairobians have an admirable trait, most city dwellers could do with change.

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