Fat lies that Nairobians tell each other in coffee houses

When they are not name-dropping, Nairobians  are bragging or punctuating their sentences with all sorts of ego-boosting phrases. Oh, I am somehow related to the First Family. Oh, my container has just landed at the port of Mombasa. Oh, there is this rich mzungu pal of mine. Do you know me? My guy you should know people. You will hear them boast in conversations.  

A while back, I watched ‘Grown Ups’, which reminded me of Nairobians. This is a movie that brings together former school mates who were champions 30 years ago under a good jolly coach. When the coach dies, there is a reunion of some sorts as they all attend the burial, complete with the brats that have come along the way. One of the guys, going through a rough patch decides to hire a Cadillac to conceal his frugal means since he was thrown into inflation by his employer. This guy does not miss an opportunity to flaunt this and that, including his credit card, just to show others that he is doing well. He would perfectly fit in Nairobi were he to find himself on an exchange programme of sorts.

If you were to sit in a conversation involving several Nairobians, if you are not careful you can hate yourself. People seem to know everything that you do not know. People seem to know all the new entertainment spots that have opened recently that you do not know.

Everyone seems to have an idea about seafood apart from you. Everyone in the group has landed big winnings with sports betting in recent months. Everyone seems to have attended exquisite bashes, courtesy of this or that diplomat apart from you.

You don’t seem to get any memos to give you a heads up when the diplomats operate an open bar. If you have found yourself in such circumstances, take a chill pill and worry not.

Nairobians are a show off community. My in–law’s cousin could have attended a high profile party in the leafy suburbs where they invite jazz musicians instead of Koffi Olomide and share his story. But since I do not want to be left behind and with the insatiable desire to demonstrate that ‘I know people’, I will shameless copy his story and even go ahead and embellish it with a few half-truths to add some razzmatazz to it.

Broke loudmouths

Anybody who would listen to my glamorous lies would hate themselves wondering how they have lived in Nairobi for 15 years and have never landed a high profile party. Yet, despite spending most of my time in nondescript coffee houses in downtown Nairobi I never miss the A list parties.

That is Nairobians for you. If you sit in a table and listen to the fantasies, half-truths and works of fiction peddled around at coffee shops and pubs, you would consider taking the next bus headed to your shags, but worry not. As a society we are show off experts and we must conjure up something that must make us to be envied by our peers. It does not matter whether part of being ‘politically correct’ means being economical with the truth, or sprucing up stories of accomplishments and conquer that we have heard from others and project them as ourselves, just to score all that important admiration.

So the next time you see someone trying too hard to get noticed and shouting how he is a big shot in local tenderprenuer scenes, unless the same info is collaborated by Kenya Revenue Authority, treat his stories as mere fantasies aimed at building castles in the air. Actually the real tough ones who are in top wheeler dealing in county governments operate like secret service, wanakula kama wameyamaza, it’s the broke loudmouths keen to be noticed that make most noise.