WHAT IS RIGHT WITH KENYA’S YOUTH? Wah, Meshers, allow me to introduce the real Avengers—Kenya’s youth. Forget Tony Stark. Hapa Nairobi, our superheroes don’t wear suits; they wear thrifted hoodies from Gikosh, and their weapons are side hustles that multiply faster than Safaricom “You have insufficient balance” SMS. Our Gen-Z and millennials? Hii ni generation ya “Jobless but busy.” Monday morning: hawker. Tuesday: TikTok comedian. Wednesday: M-Pesa agent. Thursday: crypto guru (till Binance blocks them). Friday: DJ at cousin’s graduation. Saturday: wedding photographer. Sunday: back to church choir because even God must see the hustle portfolio. Japanese youth? Wako na bullet trains, Sony, Toyota. Kenyan youth? We have juakali. If you give a Kenyan youth a plastic bottle, by next week it’s a Bluetooth speaker with solar charging. Give them three nails and an old tyre, and suddenly you’re buying “designer” sandals at 1,200 bob. Give them one mandazi and they’ll start a catering business called “Mandeez Empire.” And the grind is not optional, my people—it’s survival Olympics. Petrol at 186 bob, unga playing hide-and-seek with our wallets, landlords charging like they built the house with gold nails. But bado youths are out here pushing. Story ya Hustle Kuchambua: A Japanese guy asks a Kenyan youth: “Why do you people have five side hustles?” Kenyan youth replies while frying chips kwa kibanda: “Because my landlord doesn’t accept exposure as rent.” Bruh, truth is: Kenyan youth are allergic to being idle. Even when chilling, they’re plotting. That guy sitting by the roadside? He’s not lost—he’s brainstorming a boda-boda app for cows. That lady with braids at Archives? She’s live on TikTok, monetizing her tea review. And when the system tries to choke them? They turn choking into content. Teargas clouds during protests? Boom—trending dance challenge. Police chasing them? Boom—“running man challenge” goes viral. They turn suffering into hustling, and hustling into art. Japanese guy could roast us for corruption, but even he has to admit: Kenyan youth have invented GDP ya vibes and side gigs. The hustle anthem goes like this:
No job? Start a business. No capital? Start with vibes. No vibes? At least TikTok is free.
So what’s right with Kenya? The youth. Their stubbornness to survive. Their creativity when the economy says “no entry.” Their ability to sell air (literally—shisha, balloon gas, online “exposure”) and make it look like Silicon Valley innovation. Yes, politicians are busy selling us lies wrapped in t-shirts, but youth? They’re selling chapati by day, coding by night, and still finding time to tweet “Ruto must go” with free WiFi from Java. Kenya doesn’t need pity. Kenya doesn’t need saviors from abroad. Kenya just needs to stop sabotaging its own children—because the youth already have the blueprint. They’ve been building futures with borrowed hotspots, 200 bob, and pure stubbornness. Otherwise? One day Japan will stop teaching Kenyan history as a warning, and start teaching it as a case study of how vibes + hustle built a nation out of mpesa agents, boda riders, content creators, and dreamers who refused to stay broke.