Reflections 40 years after I first set foot in Nairobi

A changing city. [PPS, Standard] The year 2022 marked 40 years since I came to Nairobi. By then, the green city in the sun was largely unspoilt and had lots of trees and vegetation. My destination was Upper Kabete, to be specific, the Native Industrial Training Depot (NITD). If you take matatus on Waiyaki, someone is likely to alight at "N." The school was Kabete Technical Training Institute, now a national polytechnic following several promotions. It's only in Kenya that we "promote" schools instead of building new ones. Remember the provincial schools we promoted to national status? I hope Kenya Kwanza will end that unusual culture. Fascinated by the city, I visited several places, and I walked - a hangover from my walking in the countryside. This allowed me to admire the city in close quarters. We walked eight kilometres daily to and from my primary school. Add another day to church on Sundays even during the holidays. And another day during the school holidays to take cattle to the dip. Do your maths, after seven years we covered about 13,000 km. About a third round the equator! Walking from Upper Kabete to the city centre 12 km away and back was normal. We trekked to Lower Kabete where the Kenya Institute of Administration was located, (now Kenya School of Government). Upper Kabete campus - though no one talked about it in my four years in the technical school. It was only mentioned during bullying. A senior student would ask for your CPE grades, the next very demeaning question was: "Why didn't you go to campus?" We walked to Loresho, getting newly settled then, to Kawangware and Lavington area. All those places had more trees and fewer buildings. The International Livestock Research Institute (ILRI) was International Laboratory for Research on Animal Diseases (ILRAD). Uthiru was our nearest town. We never visited Eastlands. My classmate used to walk to Kikuyu and back to visit his brother at Alliance High School. We were called "trekkers" like Boers in South Africa. While the Boers ran from the British in the great trek - some ending up in Kenya - we trekked because we had no money for bus fare. We saw breakdance, robot and wave-trendy dancing styles then. Some of my classmates were overwhelmed by culture shock which was reflected in their exam results. I had chosen this school that never offered biology as my first choice. Alliance was my second choice. My dream was to design a jet fighter. I did not design a spear. I got into my primary school's second choice for A levels. I was startled by the opportunities and inspirations that I missed. In 40 years Nairobi has changed, let me reflect on a few changes in no order of merit. Physically it has taller and more elegant buildings. KICC has lost its status as the tallest building in Nairobi. The elegant buildings in Upper Hill were personal homes in 1982. Apartments are a recent phenomenon in the city. The "bedrooms" like Runda and Kahawa Sukari, were not there. There are more cars but not many new roads have been built beyond the bypasses. A public bus system, Kenya Bus Service once made life easy for commuters. It's the invisible part of Nairobi that has more to write about. Nairobi was a complete contrast to my village (not disclosed for security reasons). Everyone was busy minding their business. What surprised me was the state of dishonesty - a classmate conned me money to be "multiplied" and use of padlocks for locking our doors. We never bothered about security in my village. I have come to understand why. Everyone had enough to eat! Minding your business and trusting only a selected number of people is the hallmark of city life. With time, I slowly and inexorably got entwined into city life. I realised I was not going anywhere. Except for a break of six years in a foreign land, I became an urbanite with a hangover from the village. This was espoused by a thick accent, a love of traditions like dowry negotiation and nature - having grown up next to a national park overlooking the Great Rift Valley. Lack of identity is the new urbanite's soft underbelly. Torn between the old order in the countryside and new urban culture and less personal, it can be a source of mental dissonance. WhatsApp groups have helped, we now can connect with old friends who share similar values or nostalgia. The city is a melting pot of cultures. Kenya is extracted from the rural areas by schooling and jobs to the city. A generation is not enough to convert them into real urbanites, they await the next generation, their children. For Nairobi, other nationalities add to its character. Have you noted the decreasing number of mzungus in the city and its suburbs? Who is replacing them? Some observers think Nairobi will soon be like London. Find out who is the mayor of London and who is buying the choicest property. The new urbanites from the rural areas are pulled in different directions. Their cultures demand them in the villages, and globalisation and religion demand they abandon their traditional cultures. Many live double or triple lives. One can be a church elder, a village elder and a corporate executive at the same time. In the city, you are valued for your economic contribution, and how much money you can make, at times the means do not matter. That can lead to feeling meaningless and being overwhelmed. And when you stop being productive, the "system" has a way of ejecting you. Tribalism is replaced by economic classes. After forty years I have differentiated fiction from reality in the city. The city is a great place to live if you are economically productive. It even gives pathways to upward mobility, from Zimmerman as a young graduate to Karen or Runda as your economic status improves and if time allows. The city, even as it usurps your youth and energy, keeps you hoping that one day you make an economic breakthrough. For the majority, they are overtaken by forces of nature and exit the planet. Luckily there is now a greater appreciation that Nairobi can be our final resting place - through Lang'ata or cremation. The city is now cutting us off indefinitely from the rural areas where we used to return to after death. Is that something to celebrate or mourn over? Have you been in the city for forty years? What have I left out? May I wish you a happy 2023, but it's your responsibility to make the year prosperous.

Reflections 40 years after I first set foot in Nairobi

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Reflections 40 years after I first set foot in Nairobi

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