Christmas in Nairobi: A city without festive cheer
A woman waits to board a bus at the Machakos Country Bus terminal on December 24, 2024.
As Nairobi ushered in Christmas on December 24, nothing about the city felt festive. Neither the traffic nor the atmosphere had the usual holiday cheer.
Edith Wasike, a weary traveller heading to western Kenya, stood stranded and anxious at Machakos Country Bus - the terminus for western-bound long-distance buses. Her belongings sat precariously at her feet as she faced a harsh reality - fares had doubled from the usual Sh1,000. Worse still, vehicles were nowhere to be found. The roads, often her bridge to home, now felt like a cruel joke, a gaping void of movement and hope.
Travellers on Kenneth Matiba Road in Nairobi County on December 24, 2024.
Around them, police officers stood watch at every corner, their presence calm but undeniable. They were neither hostile nor overbearing, just part of the rhythm of a city navigating the holiday rush. People moved around them without stopping, their bright yellow-green vests blending into the hustle and bustle of Nairobi.
On Landhies Road, jua kali artisans toiled. Their tools sparkled, but their spirits were low. It was just another Tuesday, another grind, another day of little joy. The air was still, the atmosphere dull, as if the city itself had grown tired.
City residents walk past stalls outside the Machakos Country Bus on December 24, 2024.
But in Muthurwa, the human tide surged. On Pumwani Road leading to Kamukunji, a sea of people moved with quiet determination. It was a flood of faces, some hopeful, others worn thin by the weight of life. The road pulsated with life, but it felt strained like a rubber band stretched too far.
The roofs of the matatus were overloaded with hastily loaded goods. Sacks bulged and cartons wobbled, filled with the spoils of last-minute shopping. Hawkers shouted into the cacophony, their voices lost in the chaos, each one a plea for survival.
Traders sell potatoes outside the Machakos Country Bus on December 24, 2024.
The CBD was alive. The streets were as crowded as ever. But it wasn't the fullness of celebration - it was the fullness of necessity, of survival. The city buzzed, but beneath the noise was a quiet hollowness, a sobering emptiness that only times like these can carve.
This year's festival may lack the pomp and grandeur of years past, but it is not without meaning. It is a reflection of the times. There were few, if any, twinkling lights or resounding carols. But in the muted hum of Nairobi's streets lies resilience and a quiet determination to carry on, to find joy in the small and the simple.
As the sun sets to usher in Christmas, the city, like its people, pushes forward. Edith, like so many others, held on even as the journey home grew longer. Nairobi, with its chaotic rhythm, reflects the spirit of a country weathering the storm - shaken but not broken, strained but still striving. This is the story of a season stripped bare, not of meaning but of excess. A season in which survival itself becomes a celebration.
