Before you saw him, you heard him. He cut into Nairobi like a laser beam — with unerring focus, concentrated energy, and full of joyful chaos. He was a meme in motion: nothing in his day happened in a linear manner.
He would be in the midst of a raucous crowd, then sprint off — actually sprint, knees high, arms flapping, streaming the whole time — chasing this and that. Or he would be perched on the back of a motorbike, howling and vlogging as the rider took him in tightening spirals around the Nairobi Central Business District (CBD), then through the gridlock on Kenyatta Avenue, a daredevil ride with his phone arm stretched above him like a trophy.
As he streamed live to a rapt digital audience, everywhere he went the cameras were waiting: phones up, arms out, huge crowds gathering behind him — sometimes so dense it looked dangerous.
In a generation fluent in memes, reactions, and livestream culture, IShowSpeed demonstrated the power of one content creator who brought Nairobi to a standstill.
His clothes seemed chosen to give him the ability to sprint, leap, twist, and react without warning: loose athletic shorts, a succession of T‑shirts, and the occasional football jersey with the word “Speed.”
At the Maasai Mara National Reserve, he was even given a Maasai name — Nyangulo. There was the flash of red shuka against the endless grassland, the distant roar of a lion carried by the wind, the sight of a young man standing on the roof of a safari vehicle, shouting into the sky as though calling the world to witness.
With all the movement of IShowSpeed in Kenya, there was something almost mythic about what happened as he moved through the country. Beneath the noise, the sprinting, the chaos, he was doing something very old — he was performing the work of an ancient storyteller.
IShowSpeed’s Kenyan visit showed that stories, no matter how modern their form, remain the essence of human connection — indeed, of human existence. The American writer Joan Didion once wrote that “we tell ourselves stories in order to live.”
There are several similarities between IShowSpeed in Kenya and the art of storytelling practised by ancient griots.
American YouTuber Darren Jason Watkins Jr alias iShowSpeed is driven around Nairobi's CBD on January 11, 2026.
Photo credit: Evans Habil | Nation Media Group
First is the power to pull a crowd. Like ancient storytellers, IShowSpeed has the magnetic ability to draw people to him. Ancient storytellers drew villagers to the fire, but IShowSpeed draws people with his phone, not fire.
A good storyteller captures attention, bringing people together and making them stop what they’re doing to pay attention — in what is now called the “attention economy,” where attention is a scarce and valuable resource amid countless competing priorities. In Kenya, IShowSpeed walked through Nairobi and the Mara with that same magnetic pull. Crowds formed around him the way villagers once circled a fireside narrator. His presence alone created a temporary community of excited fans ready to absorb his stories.
Second, there is embodied performance. Ancient storytellers used gesture, voice, and movement; IShowSpeed also used physicality, sprinting, shouting, and reacting.
Third is spontaneity and improvisation. Ancient storytellers adapted to the mood of the crowd, and IShowSpeed adapted to the energy of the streets — asking questions and screaming in wide-eyed wonder when excited. A good storyteller reads the room — or in IShowSpeed’s case, the street. He wasn’t dormant but responded to Kenyan chants, jokes, and surprises.
Fourth is turning the ordinary into the mythic. Ancient storytellers elevated daily life into legend, and IShowSpeed did the same — turning matatus, markets, and the Mara plains into a global narrative. (The Cabinet Secretary for Tourism and Wildlife, Rebecca Miano, and the Chief Executive Officer of the Kenya Tourism Board, June Chepkemei, understood this as they accompanied IShowSpeed in various places, amplifying the global narrative of Kenya as a choice tourism destination.)
The best storytellers make the familiar feel extraordinary. The clatter of a sufuria set too hard on a jiko — aluminum on steel, ringing out like a dinner bell — can be great content in the hands of a good storyteller.
Fifth is becoming a vessel for communal identity. Ancient storytellers carried the spirit of their people, and IShowSpeed became a mirror reflecting Kenyan warmth and humour. He became a makeshift billboard through which Kenya showed itself to the world — warm, funny, and generous.
It may be known as content creation in today’s parlance, but at its core, it is still storytelling. May we learn to tell more of our stories, regardless of the mode, because as Chinua Achebe put it, “Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.”
IShowSpeed was our temporary historian in Kenya, representing us to the world in a way that is new, riveting, and transformational.
