The Local Bar Story

Kenyan Local Bar, Nairobi West.

The first thing that hits you when you enter a drinking den is Deja Vu, because it's the same people everyday. The second is a sharp cocktail of urine smell, cigarettes, khat and cheap liquor. Then emotional odour; despair, regret ,hopelessness, failed dreams and delusion. The local bar is a world outside your reality, a life outside your life. A place you come to unwind while drinking cheap liquor because life "kwa hii ardhi inayomilikiwa na William Samoei Ruto '' is unbecoming. It all starts as a habit, but soon enough you get addicted to life more than the substance. 

The local is where everyone meets, from corporate to thieves of the night. All characters at the local, everyone facing a different predicament in their individual lives, come here to forget. All drinking dens look alike, from the backstreet Wines & Spirits in CBD to "County Pillar'' in my village,they all look and smell same.On sale is Kariobangi industries liquor that's making people use Braille in Kirinyaga and Senator Keg, "brack ama regular". 

As usual, the waitress is called "Njeri'', her dreadlocks dyed brown at the ends and held in a ponytail. For Mt Kenya women past 25 years, it means she has two kids eating macadamia in Karatina, and she's not in Nairobi to look for love but to hustle. The Waitress always has a crackhead sidekick who cleans the local and cups for drinks. He can afford Jaba, Cigarettes and food, which is enough for him. He reports before opening hours and leaves after closing, an integral engine in the success of operations at the local. 

At 7am, there are probably three people at the local, the waitress, her sidekick and a lawyer going to work. There's always that lawyer that passes the bar every morning, it's not a trait I advocate for. He's there because he probably hates his job and he's afraid he'll never be a real lawyer. You will never hear about him in court, he just speaks English and Latino words like "Amicus Curiae '' Everyone likes him because he speaks fluent politics and bails patrons at the police station at 3 am. 

8am - 9am, is throat opening hours for the informal sector, kamageras, nduthi guys, Mechanics. Literally everyone that's not in an office. This batch has a few individuals who must "toa lock'' before commencing with their hand to mouth jobs. Money is tight but addiction is tighter. Their life is riddled by a loop of third world problems; School fees, rent, kids they didn't plan for, you name it. The nduthi guy is overwhelmed by marriage, the kienyeji wife he imported from Nyaribari chache, is with child. 

10am - 12noon, the den is now at the mercy of online writers. They finya kompyuta all night, sleep for a few hours and go spend their dollars by day binge drinking. A group of young men with the livers to stomach huge amounts of alcohol. The conversations revolve around world politics, tech, the dollar, and football banter, well informed and exposed guys. When you inquire where the BMW parked outside came from they just tell you "shughuli moja mbili tao''.

1pm - 3pm is landing time for the regulars, these guys just appear at the local,no one knows where anyone lives, career or business they do, they just appear, mostly with a bag of khat and water. They never lack at the local and have all the juice on who is who at the local. They know when Njeri sleeps with whoever. 

4pm - 5pm is for corporate world employees who either hate their jobs and miss unemployment. There is always that marketing girl who works at upper hill but passes by the den everyday because she enjoys the attention from hoodlums and degenerates. The banker who married early and his wife is pissing him off, he wastes time at the local before going home. 

6pm-6am is time for hoodrats and people addicted to the life. They have things they are trying to escape in their lives,regret stemming from bad decisions. They steal, plunder, receive and destroy. Or they are just busy during the day. 

Uhuru Kenyatta at Senator Brewing