Nairobi’s air is thick—not just with the exhaust of its legendary traffic—but with something deeper. Hunger. Ambition. Memory. This city breathes dreams and disappointment in the same breath. It moves like a Nganya (public transport minibus)—chaotic, gospel in the morning, trap by sundown, bouncing over potholes like it’s dancing just to stay alive.
I didn’t come to Nairobi chasing a grand dream. I came because, like many before me, I had to. From the village, I arrived with little more than hope and the stories others told. But the city didn’t greet me with open arms. It met me with heartbreak. I was robbed. Lost. Alone. But I stayed.
And in staying, I learned.
I learned to walk with purpose even when I didn’t know where I was going. I learned to read the streets, to listen to the silences between the noise. I learned that in Nairobi, you have to make space for yourself—the city won’t give it freely. But once you find your rhythm, once you stop resisting and start flowing with it, something changes.
This city has always belonged to the bold. Laid down by the empire in 1899, Nairobi was born of the railway and colonial ambition. But it outgrew its makers fast. It became something no one expected—a city of hustlers and prophets, where survival is a form of worship and dreams are a daily currency. You see it in Gikomba’s dust and fire. You feel it in Upper Hill’s clean lines and corporate chase. Nairobi holds it all—thieves and saints, visionaries and skeptics.
And through it all, I keep hearing Daudi Kabaka(a Kenyan vocalist and musician. The type of music he is known for is called Benga, a popular style in East Africa. His best-known songs include “African Twist”, “Harambee Harambee” and “Western Shilo”).
Harambee Harambee…
His voice echoes across decades, the rhythm of a Kenya newly born. The music of our parents and their struggles. The soundtracks of matatus, of wedding halls, of childhood memories. His voice reminds me that Nairobi has always been alive, always been moving, always been ours.
This city raised me. Not with comfort, but with sharp lessons. Nairobi bruised me, but it also built me. It doesn’t let you sleep, but it keeps you dreaming.
This story, this city— it’s a two-man operation. Me and Nairobi. Me and the beat. A love story in disguise, stitched together by survival, music, and movement.
What’s Your Nairobi Story?
The heartbeat of this city lives in its people. If you have a personal story, memory, or moment that captures your experience of Nairobi, we’d love to hear it.
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Source: Tetisulu on Instagram