Nairobi by night

I’ve never thought of Nairobi as a late-night city – probably because, as my father proudly used to say, all his chickens have come home to roost (referring, of course, to the fact that he expected his wife and daughters to be in the house by six in the evening). So, by custom and training – and much to my rebellious annoyance – it is very rare for me to be on the city streets after dark.

Last Saturday evening was an exception, and what a different city I discovered. Suddenly, as dusk falls there is an automatic and very organised changeover. The street vendors change from selling fruit, mobile phone covers and old books to selling blouses, high-heeled shoes, handbags and shirts.

Perhaps human beings are more concerned with taking a close look at what they eat or read than at what they wear! The booksellers pack their wares into brown paper parcels tied up with string, or lock them into rough metal boxes with large padlocks to be left on the street overnight.

If you stare too intently at their activity, they pause from their packing and stare hopefully in your direction, hoping that you will help them make a last-minute sale. From the whispered prices I gather that a last-minute sale can be achieved at a third of the day value. I wish the same was true of land and houses.

YOUNG NIGHT

The night crowd has a very different energy from the day dwellers. Most of the formal traders are quick to flee from the city, after quickly dropping the metal gates that fortify their shops against the night shift with a loud clatter. However, the eateries, marked by garish neon signs, boom with both music and business.

As I hurry away from the risky north end of town, I am surprised to see a lady, covered head to foot with a religious outfit and scarf, dancing to the beat of a tune. Her movements are highlighted by a lonely streetlight and she looks so happy that I am tempted to join in!

At night it is much easier to cross the road than it is during the day, but it is harder to walk the crowded streets. Revelers seem to spend a good proportion of their outings entering and leaving nightspots. The restaurants are full of glittering girls and boisterous boys, and the volume of conversations is so high that you wonder if anyone can hear themselves speak!

In my trainers and trench coat, I stick out like a sore thumb and I can see a few speculative SWOT looks turned in my direction; as these savvy folk figure out which of my strengths or weaknesses they can convert into an opportunity or a threat.

Night is the kingdom of youth. The young can stay up all night and still have energy for a full day at the office. The old prefer to be sleepless, but lying in a safe place and hoping that they will catch enough hours of slumber to erase the wrinkles caused by weariness. The young feel immortal, they do not fear the terrors of the night.

The old have read too many newspaper headlines to desire to ever become one; they err on the side of caution. The young have a list of 50 sins that they would like to commit before they die. The old wish there was a rewind button that could erase every much-regretted sin before they die!

The city rebels against the night. It is hard to find a place where either darkness or silence is allowed to reign. Even from space the glow of every earthly city can be seen. The roads look like jewelled collars, studded with rubies and diamonds, while the estates are like sequined evening-shawls draped over the suburbs. The roads roar during the day and hum all night; Trying to find a light-free, noise-free spot where you can quietly enjoy the stars is like trying to find a sugar-free scone in a French bakery! Discover the Nairobi night this weekend.