okay so i landed in nairobi thinking i’d escape london’s grey only to find another kind of grey. the weather app promised 23.66°C like it’s some gospel truth but let me tell you: that ‘feels like’ 23.07? that’s a scam. it’s the kind of heat that clings to your skin like cheap cologne. *nairobi sun doesn’t warm you-it cooks you. i just checked and it’s…sweltering like a tin can under a car hood right now, hope you like that kind of thing.

what even is here?

first morning i wandered around karen with my canon dangling like a broken necklace. heard whispers about a giraffe sanctuary but locals just snorted.

some lady at a duka said giraffes are overrated-go to the elephant orphanage instead, but don’t bring snacks. they’ll steal your chapati.

turns out she wasn’t wrong. those babies are kleptomaniacs with trunks.

then there’s mathare valley. oh boy. if you get bored, kibera’s just a matatu ride away but honestly? don’t. some drunk guy at a bar warned me:

if you shoot there, bring a wide lens and a fast exit plan. and maybe a bribe or two.

true story. i got chased by kids yelling ‘mzungu, give me money’ while trying to frame this crumbling school. best shots were taken over my shoulder while sprinting.

pro-tips from a disaster zone

*nairobi traffic isn’t a traffic jam-it’s a cult. they worship speed bumps like sacred relics.
never trust a matatu driver who says ‘short cut’. it means ‘detour through a ditch’.
local food joints? the ugali at ‘kaluchi’s’ will haunt you. in a good way. find it here
*national park? lions ignore you if you pretend to be a shrub. check the reviews

weather lies and cheap lenses

that 38% humidity? it’s the air’s revenge. my camera fogged up like i’d swum in it. and the pressure? 1015 hpa sounds fancy until your ears pop every time you cross a pothole. someone told me the best photo spots are at dawn when the pollution settles like a dirty blanket. local board agrees

final thought

nairobi’s a mess. it’s beautiful like a wound. chaotic like a jazz solo. and i shot 300 frames of pure, unfiltered disaster. wouldn’t trade it for anything. except maybe air conditioning.

gear i regretted

a tripod (useless when matatu drivers swerve like drunk goats)
polarizing filter (wasted on smog)
fancy lens cloth (stolen by a monkey)
* sanity (still missing)

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