They are not in the seven-figure income league but the emerging Kenyan version of the yuppie, or the wannabe for that matter, does interesting things with his money as KAMAU MUTUNGA found out.
They could be footballer Dennis Oliech — rumoured to be earning more than Sh1 million a week playing for Nantes in France — or Trevor Ogembo. Ogembo is a 27-year-old public relations officer with a marketing firm. He earns Sh80,000 a month and lives with two friends in a three bedroomed house, where he occupies the bedroom ensuite, forking out Sh20, 000 a month for it.
Ogembo would rather die than be seen in a matatu and drives a Mitsubishi Gallant, courtesy of a Sh750,000 company loan. "This is the life, and I'm not dreaming of living it small," he proclaims as he shakes his head to the refrains of Jon Bon Jovi's ‘It's my life’ at Tamasha Pub in the upmarket Hurlingham, Nairobi.
Later on this Sunday night, he takes me to his digs in Sirikwa Estate. A flight of stairs past the sitting room, which they all share, opens to his bedroom. It's an all white, but expensively furnished affair—there is a king size sleeping couch bought in Egypt, a 29-inch plasma TV, a leather rocking chair and a home theatre system. And that’s it.
"Living here means no relatives ... I care only about my lifestyle, friends and career," he says, fishing out a bottle of Famous Grouse brandy from a section of the wardrobe that he has turned into a cellar.
Media initiative managing director George Lutta 'in nairobi you are defined by where you work, your knowlege and whether you are progressive'
Ogembo is the brave new face of the Kenyan yuppie (Young urban professional person), who live, work and spend hard and generally have an attitude.
They appeared in the 1990s when graduates started becoming CEOs three years into the job as experience became obsolete in a world where computer literacy was the in-thing.
But, surveyed closely, most of the yuppies are children of parents who grew up around Kenya's independence and have retired in the city.
The yuppies were chauffeured to schools that were previously whites-only such as St Mary’s unlike their parents — the proud Alliance, Mangu and Machakos School types.
"Ours is a generation of movers," says John Kiarie, (KJ) an art director at Ogilvy and Mather advertising, "and most of us would rather park a Range Rover outside a servant's quarters in Hurlingham, than live in Buru Buru or anywhere East of Uhuru Highway. Some have to fake it, till they make it."
Fake or real, there are unwritten rules of membership to the yuppie set. You have to earn a salary the length of a KRA Pin Number, live in a leafy suburb, run a fuel guzzler or one or two showy souped-up cars, banish any traces of your mother tongue in your English and have a reputation for free-wheeling spending. A sharp fashion sense completes the requisite image that ensures steady invitation to Nairobi's A-list parties.
"The image thing is global," says George Lutta, managing director, Media Initiative East Africa.
"In Nairobi, you are defined by where you work, your knowledge and whether you are progressive. They (yuppies) are part of the new consumerism because they earn more than they will ever inherit from their parents," says Lutta, who lives in a fully serviced apartment.
"I had to move because of my social affiliation, security and the high cost of running a house. Now I don't need to employ a gardener or cleaner."
Most of these apartments are in Hurlingham, Kileleshwa, Lavington, Loresho and Westlands and South "C."
And boy, aren't they blessed, living large and spending big without the slightest heartburn?
Aziz Fazal of the exclusive Abdulla Fazal fashion shop says to most of them, image means branding themselves; from the cars they drive, nay spin, the clubs they frequent to the sunglasses they wear.
Fazal’s clients are young lawyers, doctors, auditors, CEOs and managing directors aged from 30 and taking home between Sh500,000 and Sh1 million.
"If you treat your feet to Sh20,000 Remron or Clarks shoes you are doing badly.
They go for hand finished 12 eyelid laced shoes or boots from Hugo Boss, Prada or Fatelli Rosetti whose finesse, shape and quality make [the ultimate] statement."
For suits, I'm informed, an S. Canalli or Hugo Boss suit will go well with a Stephano Ritchie or Van Laack shirt; with a Rado, Seiko or Rolex watch for good measure. Socks at Sh2,500 and a shirt for Sh5,000 are considered a fair deal.
"They are fashion conscious as they subscribe to Time, Newsweek, GQ and Men's Health magazines where they keep tabs on global trends. Spending over Sh100,000 is not a big deal.
The same case with women who will spend the same amount for a couple of Gerry Webber pant suits and double cuff-link shirts to match the severe and sophisticated competition of the corporate world," adds Fazal.
"Their extravagance would shock their parents," thinks Teddy Muthusi, a copywriter with Lowe Scanad advertising, "but again, they really work hard for their money, earning between Sh100,000 and Sh300,000 minus benefits as advertising executives, bankers and managers."
According to Teddy, you will hardly find them in discos or open-air concerts. They also go out of Nairobi to, say Naivasha or Olepolos in Kajiado, for a "loose-mbuzi-thing," meaning, a goat eating party out of town.
Tamasha, which was heaved out of the larger Buffet Park bar and restaurant, is one such joint.
Save for the music, service and somewhat classy clientele; there is nothing out of this planet about this members-only pub.
We drive to Alfajiri in Kilimani (you can't reach it by public means), which, alongside The Hood and Casablanca in Hurlingham, Choices on Baricho Road, Club Qatika, Mercury Lounge, Thesaurus, Sohos in Westlands, Havana, Club Sikiliza, Kengeles, Cafe Creame, and Chillers are for the well-heeled.
Alfajiri is the latest addition to their nocturnal escapades. It is actually a colonial residence turned into a pub, with cosy inviting metal decor and a spacious grass lawn. Again little is unique about it, besides its exclusivity.
"Most prefer tested places where they can drink, bond and network," offers Kiarie.
And when a little broke, in-house bottle parties, come in handy. And when bonding, they mostly discuss themselves, the sexes, where they will party next, their careers and international sports like Formula One racing and the English Premier League, with a fleeting mention of Kenyan politics.
For local sports, Conjestina is discussed strictly for amusement.
"They are," says, Esther Mumbi, 25, director of Touch Up, a wedding and events management company, "and they prefer hanging out in pricey places with men who have made it. They also seem to have warped priorities. Some live in a Sh40,000 apartment yet they earn Sh60,000. So even for them, it's an image package of who you are and where you live and whether you are part of the MBA movement."
She adds: "They spoil themselves as they don't have commitments, furnishing their shared apartments with the latest electronics and leather seats."
Lutta says bright ones are risk takers who invest at the Stock Exchange and in real estate. But if you talk of investing in a matatu or a shamba, you are considered a "zack" (old fashioned).
"Men invest in mutual funds, unit trusts, investment clubs or a plot in Kitengela or Athi River. The same applies to the women".
Mumbi thinks not: "Most of them hardly save. I know some who casually blow away their Sh150,000 salaries and are heavily in debt. While their parents were content with a Sh600 Sanyo radio, these ones spend Sh90,000 on home theatres just to impress their peers. The wise women don't need men to bankroll their lifestyle. While their spending is conspicuous, they also invest in shares, treasury bills, offshore trading, or have money saved in a fixed deposit account.
Others buy flats while toying with a couple of investment ideas sourced from their frequent trips abroad."
Like the men, she adds, most yuppie women only care about their immediate families, but friends matter more to them. They are also not keen on marriage and are fixated on enjoying life and casual affairs.
So for the young generation of executives, relatives rarely come into the picture.
"Buru Buru is their upcountry home because that is where they have lived all their lives," says Kiarie.
Being city people, yuppie weddings are not communal affairs. These invitation-only parties are preceded, not by old fashioned bachelor parties, where the bridegroom and his bosom friends cleared crates of Tusker in a smoke-filled bar with matronly bar maids, streetwise ruffians and drab music.
Yuppies do them in stag night parties, where the stag service providers are hired for Sh30,000, with a Sh5,000 non-refundable booking fee. Now these stag parties are held in exclusive villas for that last beer blast with the boys.
"Money," says Mumbi, "is what matters to most of them. They are go-getters who want the best cars, clothes and jobs. They want to get a name in society and be the best in what they do. Their jobs define them too, which is why they flash out their business cards before they have told you their second names."
But among this set, too, is to be found a group of wannabes.
Wannabes aspire to be in the league of the high rollers but their ambitions are cut short courtesy of insufficient income and responsibilities from the extended family.
"A wannabe says Kiarie," is that fellow who hangs around this lot, but his bills are mostly taken care of. He is also given a lift to his parents’ home where he lives in the extension."
A wannabe could be paying for his siblings’ school fees, so he mostly hangs out at the end of the month.
Wannabe women, I learn from Mumbi, spot common perfume scent and in their creased attempt at fashion, they buy clothes from Moi Avenue stalls.
"A guy could be earning Sh30,000,” says Kiarie, “but to look crisp, he has a mtumba dealer at Toi Market in Kibera or SunBeam stalls in town, who picks nice second hand clothes for him.
This is the type that usually tries to crossover from East to West of Uhuru Highway, but cannot”.
