Keyboard warriors: Pride and pitfalls of online trolling

In Kenya, social media isn’t just a place to share memes or morning selfies; it’s a battleground of wit, humour and sometimes, chaos.

From X (formerly Twitter) to TikTok, Kenyans have carved out a reputation as some of the funniest, fiercest, and most creative users online. The “KOT”, Kenyans on Twitter, are known and feared across the continent for their sharp comebacks and collective trolling.

Whether it’s defending the country against outsiders, roasting politicians, or poking fun at pop culture, Kenyans often turn the internet into a stage where satire thrives. But as much as this online humour brings people together and gives Kenya a distinct digital identity, it also raises a question: when does national pride turn into cruelty?

Behind the jokes and hashtags lies a phenomenon that’s as entertaining as it is unsettling: trolling.

Trolling might look like harmless fun, but experts say there’s a method and a mindset behind it. At its heart, trolling feeds off two main things: anonymity and amusement.

“Anonymity on the internet lowers inhibitions,” says Ms Eve Waruingi, a psychologist who studies online behaviour. “It’s like hiding behind a mask. People feel they can say things they’d never say face-to-face because there’s no immediate consequence.”

Many trolls, both in Kenya and beyond, are driven by what the internet calls the “lols”, the thrill of getting a laugh or a reaction. Ms Waruingi explains: “Trolling is modern-day comedy. If someone gets angry or flustered, that’s entertainment to them. It’s not about the person, it’s about the reaction.”

Others troll for attention. In real life, they might feel invisible. But online, a single sarcastic post or viral clapback can make them famous, even if only for a few hours.

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For Kenyans, trolling isn’t always malicious. At its best, it’s a show of unity and creativity, a digital version of a matatu conversation, loud, witty, and full of banter. When Kenyans “go off” on someone or something, it’s often in the spirit of humour and national pride.

But not everyone finds it funny.

While the jokes fly and hashtags trend, real people bear the brunt of it. Victims often describe the experience as being caught in an uninvited comedy roast that quickly turns cruel.

Sarah, a 24-year-old influencer, learned this the hard way. “At first, I thought it was all fun. People were joking about me online, and I even laughed. But then it got personal, and they started insulting my looks and my family. It stopped being funny really fast.”

Ms Waruingi says trolling can cause deep emotional harm. “Trolling chips away at self-esteem. Over time, people start to believe the negativity. When attacks come from hundreds of strangers, it feels like the whole world is against you.”

And sometimes, trolling crosses into darker territory. “We’ve seen people receive threats or have personal details exposed. That’s when it stops being humour and becomes harassment,” she warns.

What starts as banter can easily turn toxic, leaving victims humiliated or even scared.

Yet, in true Kenyan fashion, many victims learn to fight back, often with the same humour that first attracted the trolls.

Alex, a tech journalist, says he’s learned not to take it personally. “If someone trolls me, I troll them back, but cleverly. They expect anger, not humour. Once you laugh with them, the joke loses its power.”

This kind of response can turn the tables. The troll, once in control, becomes the punchline. And for some, humour becomes a form of healing, a reminder that not every insult deserves a wound.

Trolling has changed over the years, and Kenya has been right at the centre of its evolution. What began as quick retorts in comment sections has grown into a whole online culture. Memes, hashtags, parody accounts, they’ve all become tools of digital storytelling and social commentary.

In gaming and live-streaming, trolling takes on another form: playful teasing that sometimes blurs into bullying. “What’s funny in one online space might be offensive in another,” says Ms Waruingi. “It’s all about context and intention.”

For Kenyans, this line is often razor-thin. A trending hashtag can unite millions in laughter one minute and tear down an individual the next.

There’s no denying it: Kenyans have mastered the art of online banter. When global issues arise, Kenyans on Twitter (KOT) are often among the loudest voices, crafting viral jokes and fearless clapbacks that get the world’s attention. It’s part of what makes the Kenyan online community vibrant, a mix of humour, social awareness and quick wit.

But as Ms Waruingi points out, this sharpness comes with responsibility. “Humour is powerful, especially when it reflects intelligence and unity. But it can also turn destructive if it’s used to shame or silence others.”

What’s celebrated as boldness abroad can sometimes be cruelty at home. And as Kenya’s digital footprint grows, so too does the need to balance humour with humanity.

At the end of the day, trolling reflects something deeper: how we treat one another when we think no one is watching. The internet, for all its noise and chaos, can still be a space for empathy and connection.

“The internet has the potential to bring people together,” says Ms Waruingi. “If we bring empathy and understanding into our online interactions, we can make it a space that reflects our best, not our worst.”