Neither ‘simp’ nor ‘Jesus’: Just a son honouring a mother who taught him to care
Brian Okello Mbiye, 25, at Nation Centre, Nairobi, on March 27, 2026. He tried to stop a boda boda rider from beating a woman, but onlookers turned on him, forcing him to retreat.
What you need to know:
- A Nairobi Gen Z risks everything to save a stranger, only to face mob violence and viral fame.
- His one moment of courage turns into a national conversation on justice, masculinity, and bystander silence today.
On the evening of Friday, March 26, Brian Okello Mbiye was in his element. He was moving through Nairobi’s Mirema Estate, trying to make a living. He had just finished delivering a pair of shoes and was headed home.
In his mind were thoughts of what options he had for dinner, and from his Bose headphones, Jowi by Coaster Ojwang’ blasted. “Jowi is actually a war song,” he excitedly remarks as we had an interview at Nation Centre.
Then he saw a commotion, and curiosity got the best of him.
“A crowd had gathered, and in the middle of it, I could see a woman being thoroughly beaten by a boda boda rider. People watched on while some cheered, but no one stepped forward to stop the fight. I knew I had to do something immediately,” he reflects.
He did not stop to think whether he had the physical strength to take on a man seemingly bigger than him, let alone the mob that stood around. “Instinctively, I rushed forward in an attempt to save the woman. For the record, I do not know this woman and had never even ever seen her in my life before. Even as of now, I do not know her name.”
What happened next would be watched, shared and re-shared by thousands across the country, though Brian had no idea at the time. The moment he pushed the abuser off, the onlookers, most of them boda boda riders, turned on him. They hit him hard, forcing him to retreat.
“The whole thing lasted less than a minute, and I remember walking away bruised and angry at myself for not being able to help the woman, but also grateful that I had tried. I thought that was the end of it, and I carried on with my walk home,” he intones reflectively.
The following morning, he was awakened by a call from one of his friends. “Unajua unatrend wewe, hebu ingia WhatsApp (You are trending, check your WhatsApp),” and he hung up.
Confused, he logged onto his WhatsApp and saw a TikTok link from the friend who had just called him. On opening, he watched himself and the previous day's incident play before his eyes.
“It was surreal and confusing at the same time. By then, the video had more than 5,000 views, and the comments were streaming in. Some people were praising me, calling me Superman, others branded me a simp, while others said I thought I was Jesus. Even before I could comprehend and gather my emotions, more WhatsApp chats and periodic phone calls started coming in … all in reference to the video.”
Turns out, someone had recorded the entire incident and posted it on TikTok, and it was going viral. The memes came pouring in, and he laughed at most of them amid confusion.
“I absolutely had no idea that the whole scene was being captured,” he says, shaking his head. “As a matter of fact, I do not even know who did the recording and on which platform it was posted first.”
He had come in the same red sweater we had asked him to wear, the one many now recognise from the video.
For a 25-year-old who had spent his life fighting to survive, the sudden attention was overwhelming. But it also forced him to reflect on the journey that had led him to that moment, the moment he ran towards a stranger in trouble.
Brian’s story begins in Changamwe, Mombasa, where he was born. He later moved to Siaya, where he attended school, eventually joining Luanda High School in Vihiga County. He is the second born and the only son, though his elder sister passed away years ago. Life at home was never easy. His mother struggled with mental illness, and that did not stay behind closed doors; it followed him to school.
Helpless
“My high school classmates can attest to how my mother would come to school and sometimes even undress,” he recalls, his voice soft but steady. “I felt helpless, and most times I wished I could just disappear. But the principal was supportive and ensured that I cleared high school.”
When he completed high school, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. She came back home, and Brian watched her waste away, powerless to do anything. They were poor and could not afford the kind of treatment that might have saved her.
“I was brought up to do the right thing even when no one is watching,” he says. “It really disturbs me to-date that I was not able to help my own mother. But I know I can do something to save or help someone every day. That is why rushing to rescue the woman in the video came so naturally to me. It was the right thing to do.”
In the midst of that helplessness, he made a decision. He would go to Nairobi, find whatever work he could, and try to send something back home. But he had no money for the fare. A friend from high school, Esther, had a boyfriend in the city, whom she was planning to visit. Brian begged her to let him tag along. There was a problem: Esther’s boyfriend had sent just enough for her alone.
So Brian did what he had to do. He burned charcoal and sold it until he raised his bus fare. He and Esther showed up together at the boyfriend’s place—unannounced. The man was gracious enough to let Brian sleep on the sofa for a while. “I will have to look for Esther and thank her someday,” Brian says, almost to himself.
“She really helped me. I don’t know where she is; we lost contact. But I will surely look for her someday.”
In Nairobi, he landed in Kibera, where he took on odd jobs such as selling milk, doing deliveries, and whatever could put food on the table. Then one day, he saw a television interview with Job Brian Jura, popularly known as Jbee Jura, the founder of 254 Home Apparels. Something about the story resonated with him.
Shortly after, by what he calls a coincidence, he met Jbee on the streets. Without hesitation, Brian walked up to Jbee and asked for a job. He was hired as a delivery guy. That job opened his eyes to the world of fashion. He loved it.
One delivery took him to Mirema Estate, where gospel artist Mr Seed Official was in a studio. It was Brian’s first time on the estate, and he was stunned. “This was the rich side of life, according to me,” he says.
He began working towards a goal: to one day live in Mirema. Eventually, he made it. But even as he built a new life, the weight of his past remained. Last year, 2025, his mother lost her battle with cancer. The grief is still fresh. He thinks about her often, about the things he could not do for her, the care he could not afford. Yet he carries her lessons with him. She had taught him to do what was right, even when no one was watching. That Friday evening in Mirema, he did exactly that.
When the video went viral, the reactions were mixed. Some praised him for his bravery. Others mocked him. Memes labelled him “the guy in the red sweater”; the oversized red sweater he now jokes he cannot wear in public because everyone will recognise him. People called him a simp, suggesting he only intervened to impress the woman. He takes it all in his stride.
“I actually love looking at those memes and laughing my heart out,” he says.
But beneath the jokes, there were real consequences. His TikTok account grew from fewer than 200 followers to more than a thousand. Strangers sent him money, which helped him pay off some of the debts he had accumulated while trying to support his mother. He had been staying with a friend because his own belongings had been locked up over rent arrears. The goodwill from Kenyans allowed him to clear some of that burden. He also received a beautiful pair of shoes.
“I am super grateful for all that,” he notes.
On the question of whether he has received any endorsements, he says not yet, but he is open to business. He runs an Instagram page, Premium Urban Flex 254, where he posts the clothes and shoes he sells. He hopes that the attention will bring more customers his way, but he is not holding his breath. For now, he is just grateful that the video sparked a conversation.
Because for Brian, the video is not about him. It is about what it reveals: the society we live in. He says the context of the altercation was that the woman had been dropped by the boda boda rider but did not have cash; her phone was off. She asked the rider to accompany her to her house so that she could charge the phone and pay via M-Pesa. The rider refused, and the confrontation escalated. Brian insists that even if that were the case, violence was not the answer.
“We evidently live in an unjust society,” he says. “And while I was not able to rescue the woman, at least my heart was in the right place.”
The video, he believes, shows the bigger picture, that violence can happen in broad daylight, with an audience that does nothing. He hopes the conversation does not stop at memes and jokes. He hopes it forces us to ask why we watch instead of act. His younger sister and grandmother, back in the village, saw the video. They called him to say they were proud of him. For a young man who has known so much loss, that meant everything.
As he speaks, he seems both humbled and amused by the turn his life has taken. He admits that at first he did not know how to handle the overnight fame. He shunned interviews, tried to stay low. But now he is embracing it. He hopes this moment will be the one that changes his life for good.
