by Salim Mbogo

August 16, 2025

---

If you’ve lived in Nairobi long enough, you know it’s a city of contrasts. One moment you’re dodging a boda boda on Moi Avenue, the next you’re sipping overpriced cappuccino in Lavington while a Range Rover glides past. It’s a city where the world meets: tourists, aid workers, digital nomads, hustlers, students, expats, and everyone in between. 

And when all these people mix, interesting things happen. Some of it’s beautiful. Friendships that change lives, business partnerships that create jobs, love stories that make you believe in romance again. But some of it is… let’s just say, complicated. 

I’ve grown up seeing these interactions between foreigners and locals, from downtown Nairobi, the streets of Bungoma and Eldoret, to the leafy suburbs of Nakuru. And while I’m proud that our country is open and welcoming, I’ve also seen patterns, patterns that can bring out the worst in both sides. 

The Things We Don’t Talk About Out Loud 

I’ve been in clubs in Westlands where the music is so loud you feel it in your chest, and the strobe lights make everyone look like they’re moving in slow motion. You look around and see groups of foreign men buying endless rounds of drinks, each with a different Kenyan woman at their side. Sometimes it’s just harmless fun. But sometimes, you can see what’s really going on, the unspoken deal: “I pay, you stay.” 

I’ve also been on the other side of town, in a tiny Java café, watching a young Kenyan man tell a foreign woman he met online how much he loves her on their very first meeting. He’s charming, intense, promising to take her to meet his “auntie” in the village. A week later, he’s asking her to help pay his “school fees.” She sends the money. Two weeks later, he ghosts her. 

It’s messy. And it’s not just about sex or money. It’s about trust, power, and what happens when people stop seeing each other as human beings and start seeing each other as opportunities. 

The Bad Habits – And Why They Hurt 

Foreigners Using Money Like a Shortcut 

Money is powerful here. It can open doors, speed up service, and win you friends, at least for the night. I’ve seen foreigners throw money around like confetti, paying for entire tables of strangers at Alchemist or 40Forty Lounge, assuming that generosity will buy them a connection. 

Sometimes it works, but only temporarily. Because when the money runs out, so does the company. And it teaches the wrong lesson: that you can skip the hard work of building trust by simply opening your wallet. 

Locals Love-Bombing for a Payoff 

On the flip side, I’ve seen Kenyans turn into Oscar-worthy actors the moment a foreigner enters the room. The warmth, the attention, the constant “You’re so amazing”. It feels good to the foreigner, but there’s a hidden script: keep the flattery flowing until the request for money feels “natural.” 

It’s not always malicious. For some, it’s just survival in a tough economy. But it poisons the well for everyone else. A foreigner who’s been played once becomes harder to reach with genuine kindness the next time. 

Stereotypes That Build Walls 

Some foreigners land here convinced they’re entering a land of poverty where everyone is desperate for help. Some locals see foreigners as clueless rich people who can be milked. And when both sides cling to those ideas, the interaction becomes fake. You’re not meeting as equals,  you’re meeting as actors with roles you think you have to play. 

The Show-Offs and the Victim Card 

I’ve met foreigners who seem obsessed with showing how much they can spend, dinners in Kileleshwa where the bill is bigger than my monthly rent, “joking” about how cheap everything is. It creates a distance you can feel in the air. 

And I’ve met locals who lead with hardship, every conversation circling back to unpaid rent, school fees, and sick relatives. It’s not wrong to share struggles, but when it becomes the foundation of the relationship, it’s hard for the other person to ever see you beyond that. 

How It Feels 

It’s easy to think of this as just “bad behaviour,” but the truth is, it affects people deeply. I’ve seen foreigners become cold, suspicious, assuming every smile hides a price tag. I’ve seen locals walk away bitter, convinced all foreigners are here to take advantage and leave. 

The saddest part? Every time this happens, we lose a chance for something real. We lose the stories that could have been told, the lessons that could have been learned, the friendships that could have lasted a lifetime. 

My personal experience 

I never thought I’d get so close to someone who wasn’t from here. When we first met, we were complete strangers, me, a young Kenyan, and them, a foreigner spreading kindness and her version of humanity far from her country’s borders. At first, it was just small talk, nothing serious. But little by little, things changed. 

What grew between us wasn’t forced. There were no games, no pretending, no expectations of what one could get from the other. We just showed up for each other with honesty. We respected each other, we cared, and we genuinely wanted the best for one another. Before long, the relationship didn’t feel like “local” and “foreigner” anymore. It felt like family, a real family. The kind of bond where you can call someone at any hour and know they’ll be there. The kind that makes you feel like you can open up and talk about anything and everything with each other without fear of being judged. The kind of love that makes you want to check in daily, celebrate the wins, and carry each other through the tough days. 

That experience changed my perspective. It reminded me that at the end of the day, we’re all just human. We all want to feel seen, loved, and valued, no matter where we come from, the color of our skin, or what we have in our pockets. Borders, accents, religion — none of that matters when there’s genuine care. 

For me, this relationship is proof of how people are meant to live. Not taking advantage of each other. Not judging. Not using. Just respecting, loving, and caring in the most straightforward, truest way. That’s what makes us human. And if more of us lived like that, this world would feel less divided, and a lot more like home. 

What We Can Do Better 

Here’s what I’ve noticed from the rare, beautiful connections that do work: 

Start With Respect, Not Money 

The healthiest interactions I’ve seen begin with simple respect. Not charity. Not seduction. Just two people meeting without trying to “win” something from each other in the first five minutes. A simple, honest interaction between two equals who find a common ground. First impressions are rarely forgotten. 

Be Genuinely Curious 

Some of the best friendships I’ve seen started with questions: “What music do you listen to?” “What’s your hometown like?” Foreigners who try ugali, learn Swahili slang, or ask about local history get embraced. Locals who learn about a foreigner’s background without turning it into a request for help stand out. 

Share Value That’s Not Cash 

Value can be anything — knowledge, skills, connections, experiences. I’ve seen a foreign graphic designer teach a Kenyan friend how to use Photoshop, and that friend later help him navigate government business registration. That’s partnership, not dependency. 

Don’t Flaunt, Don’t Beg 

Foreigners, you don’t need to hide your lifestyle, but you also don’t need to make it a centerpiece. Locals, you don’t have to pretend life is easy, but avoid making your struggles your whole identity in the relationship. 

Build Through Shared Experiences 

Forget just meeting in bars. Go hiking at Karura Forest. Cook together. Attend a local art show. Volunteer for a community project. Those moments build bonds that can’t be bought or faked. 

Why It Matters for Nairobi 

Nairobi’s future is global. Every year, more foreigners settle here for work, investment, or lifestyle. If we keep letting these bad habits define us, we’ll build walls instead of bridges. But if we focus on respect, curiosity, and fairness, we can create a city where cross-cultural relationships are natural, strong, and enriching for both sides. 

I’ve seen it happen, between a Maasai craftsman and a Japanese fashion designer, a boda boda rider and an American journalist, a Kenyan coder and a German entrepreneur. None of them started with money. They began with interest, respect, and time. 

My Final Take 

As a young Nairobian, I’ve seen too many opportunities wasted because we reduced each other to wallets or charity cases. Yes, money will always be part of the equation; the gap is real. But it doesn’t have to be the only thing. 

If you’re a foreigner, lead with humility. If you’re a local, lead with integrity. Meet as people first. Because in this city, the best connections are not bought, they’re built from the ground up. 

---

Ashes and Chapati