Love, From Kenya — Shayera Dark

I arrived in Nairobi not knowing what to expect. Sure, I knew from research that it was going to be chillier than Lagos and had taken appropriate measures to keep warm. I also learned that Nairobi is the ancestral land of the Maasai and that Swahili, Kenya’s unifying language—which means ‘the coast’ in Arabic—is an enduring legacy of the trading relationship that existed between Arabs and the Swahili people of the African Great Lakes region.

My research had also turned up the word Nairobbery, the jocular nickname residents bestowed on the capital city at a time muggings were pervasive. For some, such a discovery would have warranted a change in itinerary, but not me. Maybe it was because I lived in Lagos, a bigger, sprawling metropolis of craziness and hustlers in all their iterations. Lagos was where brazen robbers smashed car windows in broad daylight and unsuspecting passengers fell into thieves' dens disguised as public transport.

Indeed, Nigerian cities demand a double dose of vigilance and apprehension from its dwellers, and having been raised in one, I knew I had nothing to fear from Nairobi.

“Is Nairobi always this cold?” I asked the taxi driver, clutching my button-less jacket.

“No. In the afternoon it gets really hot.”

“How hot?”

“About twenty-five degrees.”

“Twenty-five degrees? That’s not hot,” I said, chuckling at our differing definition of sultry weather. Compared to Lagos’s average temperature of thirty degrees, twenty-five was pleasantly cool.

Driving past the airport exit, under Nairobi’s clear, inky black sky, I noticed there were a handful of cars on the road and found myself questioning the city’s nightlife. Granted, it was a late weekday night and, according to the taxi driver, Nairobians who had spent Christmas outside the city hadn’t returned but still… For a comparative period in Lagos, there would be more cars plying the road and more stores and eateries open at 11 p.m. (Yes, I had to sleep on a semi-empty stomach.)

In the days that followed, I found myself making comparisons, like most travellers, between Nairobi and the city I lived in. Some of the differences were major, others were subtle, but all alluded to the diversity of Africans amid our similarities.

Minibuses

Across African cities, one of the most affordable means of transportation for the masses are minibuses, whose drivers are known for driving rough and constituting a nuisance for motorists. In Nigeria, they’re known by their proper name, in neighbouring Ghana, they're called trotros and in Kenya matatus, which derives from the historical bus fare of three shillings.

No Honking

Driving in Nairobi would seem bizarre for Nigerians who are used to honking indiscriminately. In the five days I spent within and outside Nairobi, I never heard drivers toot their horns or rain curses on errant drivers, not when a matatu cut in front of my friend’s car or a truck slothfully made its way onto the main road. What’s more, I occasionally found myself asking drivers to honk for the housekeeper to open the gate, and even then they did so only once at a time.

The Green City in the Sun

While Nairobi doesn’t hold a candle to Lagos’s imposing high-risers and flashy cars, the city wins the prize for greenery with its acres of vegetation. Large parks, vast expanse of forests and residential homes completely walled off with shrubs, trees and/or flowers characterise the city.

Nairobi’s verdancy is credited to the late Wangari Maathai, a Nobel peace prize winner and environmentalist, whose organisation Green Belt Movement planted tens of millions of trees.

Rift Valley, Kenya/Shayera Dark — Rift Valley, Kenya/Shayera Dark

Journey to the Past

Unlike the ultra-modernist architectural designs Nigerians typically opt for, many residential homes and secondary schools in Nairobi’s suburbs, roofed with clay tiles and painted chalk white, are a throwback to another era. The most impressive of these colonial relics, however, are the City Hall, the McMillan National Library and Kenya National Archives.

Of Clocks and Petrol Stations

Filling stations in Nairobi offer leaded and unleaded fuel, a surprising distinction that's unseen in Nigeria, where motorists have no choice over what sort of fuel goes into their cars.

Another curious observation I made while driving around Nairobi was its penchant for telling time. Scattered across the city are cubical white clocks hoisted by poles. Even the parliament building boasts a clock a la Big Ben, albeit smaller in size. That said, one shouldn’t assume Kenyans are averse or immune to African Time.

Wifi Everywhere (Well, Almost)

The presence of wifi in several restaurants, pubs and malls made requesting Ubers and connecting with friends and family cheap and convenient as I rarely had to roam my line. Kenya's appreciation for IT had me doffing my hat after I boarded a Modern Coast bus with a sign that read, "Wifi Available" on the back of the driver's seat, until I discovered there was no connectivity.

Tusker is King

In terms of popularity in their respective beer markets, Tusker is to Kenya what STAR is to Nigeria, but that’s where the comparison ends. For Kenyans, Tusker is more than a beer. It is a revered brand, a symbol of national pride weaved into tee-shirts, caps and fridge magnets that adorn gift store shelves. It would be sacrilegious for any table in a pub to be missing a bottle of the beloved beer.

Lagos and Nairobi share many similarities like straggling slums, soul-crushing traffic jams, and wait for it… herds of cows roaming freely. But observed closely, they are two distinct African cities, each with its own defining spirit, quirks and unique characteristics.