Merry Christmas, Kenyans. Or whatever this season is pretending to be. Because honestly, this Christmas feels very un-Christmassy. No silent nights, just noise, traffic and exhaustion.
Now, allow me to offer you some kind advice with love.
I know most of you are excited. Especially you people who have “closed for the holidays.” You have rested. You are home, and I cannot relate. My job does not recognise holidays. My job believes rest is a myth. We work until the apocalypse, and even then, we must show up to report that the apocalypse has, in fact, arrived. Holidays, to us, are a myth.
So forgive me if I am not excited. Mentally, I have switched off. Physically, I am present,t and emotionally, I am feeling meh! I am exhausted in a way sleep cannot fix.
And speaking of exhaustion, let's talk about Nairobi.
The great migration is happening and somehow not happening at the same time. Traditionally, by December 23rd, Nairobi is supposed to look like a ghost town. Empty roads and silence, but this year CBD is full, congested and smelly, as ever. The streets are packed, the air is thick with exhaust and questionable life choices, and I'm starting to think some of you actually enjoy suffering.
There is traffic everywhere. Guys, you are ruining traditions. Some of you have adamantly refused to go home. Why have you chosen to loiter in town, blocking roads and messing with my patience? What happened to us as a people?
That said, I must commend Kenyans for maintaining some traditions. You are still booking travel last minute. You are still doing last-minute shopping. You are still yelling at strangers in bus stations. Prices are still being hiked from town to your estate. And companies, ah yes, companies have suddenly remembered that there is “so much work to finish” before the year ends.
Now, another group has also emerged during this festive season: people who have decided to slowly unalive themselves with alcohol.
My dear Kenyans, I know the holiday spirit calls for spirits, but must you answer with such enthusiasm? Let me remind you that most alcohol in this country is counterfeit. But who am I to warn you? Some of you have decided your liver is a decorative part inside your bodies. You have chosen to get rid of it before the year ends.
While you are at it, a reminder: clinical officers are on strike, and doctors are on holiday. But again, when we die, tutapewa miili mpya in heaven. So why bother staying healthy?
Then there is food. This is the season when everything meat is considered edible. Roasted meat. Boiled meat. Meat from the roadside, whose origin we shall not question. As long as it has once been flesh, Kenyans will eat it. Poor us. Because let me be honest, a lot of meat in this country can be anything. But who am I to stand between you and your beloved nyama choma and beer? Am I a meat inspector? No. I am just a noisy health journalist who is also not particularly fit, but still worried.
There is fake alcohol, food and alcohol poisoning everywhere. But until we receive new heavenly bodies, could we please eat like people who want to see February 2026?
Now… let us talk about the horniest group of humans.
Some of you have decided that Christmas is the perfect time to collect diseases. STIs, STDs and HIV. Because apparently ending the year with a high body count is an achievement. Exchanging fluids is now a festive sport.
Let me remind you, this country is experiencing a condom shortage. USAID funding was removed, health resources are strained, and quality condoms are expensive. But you would rather buy cheap alcohol than invest in protection. There is no trophy for sleeping with many people in the name of celebration. No certificate, just consequences.
Dear girlies, we agreed to finish the year with all our periods done, 12 out of 12. Please make the girlies proud. Do not allow anyone’s son to insert a January surprise inside you. We are still children. And my parent once said, being in your twenties does not make you old enough to be a parent.
Finally, Kenyans, remember this: 35 days of January are coming. Spend responsibly, or you will experience 65 days of that month in 2026.
I wish you happy holidays. Close your legs. Mind what you eat. Mind what you drink. And please, for the love of peace, leave the CBD.
