What kind of country creates scammers… and then celebrates them?

This isn’t just a story about fake job offers in Qatar or Thailand. Or about that woman who just got arrested after conning people with promises of work abroad. It’s bigger. This is about us. The Kenyan public. The crowd that claps when a scammer makes it. The society that praises the hustle—no matter how dirty it is—because we all want to believe that wealth is within reach, if only we try hard enough. Or cheat cleverly enough.

You’ve seen the headlines:

“Suspected fraudster flaunted luxury lifestyle on TikTok”
“Victims paid up to KES 500,000 each in fake visa fees”
“Exposed: Scam kingpin now turned motivational speaker”

And what’s wild? People still follow them. People still clap.

Because we love a redemption story. Even if the “redemption” is just rebranding the scam.

What It Takes to Be a Scammer in Kenya

To scam in Kenya, you need three things:

1. A deep understanding of desperation.

2. A smooth tongue.

3. And a society that rewards shortcuts.

Scammers don’t create hope out of nowhere. They exploit the exact same messages we’re all taught:

“If you want to have what others won’t, you have to do what others don’t.”
“Think big.”
“Take risks.”
“Money follows courage.”

These quotes are recycled endlessly on TikTok, on posters at seminars in town, on pages of books by self-made millionaires. And scammers know exactly what dream they’re selling—because it’s the same dream we’re all chasing: an escape.

Escape from poverty. From struggle. From obscurity.

The Kenyan Hustle Culture Is Breeding This

We don’t question wealth. We celebrate it.
We don’t care how someone made it—just that they did.
And when someone goes from a mabati house in Huruma to flying first class, we don’t ask how. We repost their success story.

Hustle culture has become our new religion. And we have new prophets: influencers with questionable riches, businesspeople whose timelines don’t add up, and ex-scammers turned life coaches.

But Why Do We Let It Slide?

Because deep down, we think they just did what we’re too scared to do.
Because some of us would rather fake it than admit how hard real life is.
Because in a country where opportunities feel scarce and systems often fail us, the scam can feel like the only way up.

And because we’ve all grown up being told:

“Just work harder.”
“Change your mindset.”
“You’re not broke, you’re just not thinking big enough.”

These messages don’t leave space for nuance. For context. For reality.
So when someone bends the rules—or breaks them completely—but “wins,” it feels like proof that the rest of us are just playing the game wrong.

The Scammer as a Mirror

Let’s be honest: we love the scammer until they scam us.
We follow them, repost them, praise their business acumen… until we lose our savings.

Scammers are not just villains. They’re reflections of what our society rewards.
They’re what happens when aspiration gets twisted.
When people stop believing in slow growth, and start believing in shortcuts.
When we choose image over integrity.

So What Do We Do With This?

This isn’t just about calling scammers out.
It’s about calling ourselves out.

What kind of content are we consuming and sharing?
What values are we passing down?
What dreams are we chasing—and at what cost?

If the dream is just to “make it,” without caring how, then don’t be shocked when the next big name turns out to be a fraud.
Because we helped build their platform.

Could You Be a Scammer in Disguise?

Before we raise our fists in righteous anger at those caught in the act, we must pause and ask ourselves: What makes a scammer? Because truth be told, scammers don’t just show up in fake offices with fake visa letters. Some walk among us. Some live within us. And it may not be as black-and-white as we like to think.

Here are a few uncomfortable but essential questions to reflect on:

1. Are you a scammer in the making?

• Do you glamorize shortcuts to success, even if they exploit others?

• Do you believe the end (wealth, status, comfort) justifies any means?

• Do you sometimes think, “If I just had one good hit, I’d be out of this struggle for good”?

2. Are you a covert scammer?

• Do you knowingly oversell your product or skill, exaggerating results?

• Have you ever faked testimonials or borrowed “social proof” that wasn’t earned?

• Do you promote opportunities you haven’t vetted, just for a commission?

3. Are you a scammer apologist?

• Do you say things like, “They were just being clever,” or “This country is too hard to make it honestly anyway”?

• Do you admire people’s lifestyles without asking how they got there?

• Do you silence your gut when something feels shady, because you “don’t want to judge”?

4. Are you a scammer supporter?

• Do you click, follow, like, and share flashy content without vetting its credibility?

• Have you ever given money or support to someone you knew was being dishonest — because they’re “hustling” or they’re “your people”?

• Do you attend conferences, buy books, or listen to talks that hype shortcuts, loopholes, or manipulation tactics?

What Can You Do About It?

This isn’t about shame — it’s about honesty. Kenya’s desperation economy has made many of us flirt with dishonesty, whether it’s in how we present ourselves or the opportunities we promote.

Here’s how to break the cycle:

• Redefine success. Decide what enough looks like. Not everything has to be big, flashy, and Instagrammable.

• Question the source. Before sharing or buying into something, ask: “Is this based on truth, value, and sustainability?”

• Speak up. If someone close to you is misleading others, say something. Silence is support.

• Do your own audit. Revisit your income streams, your goals, your habits. Is there any grey area? Clean it up.

• Choose depth over hype. Follow people who are transparent about failure, struggle, and the long road — not just those flaunting the destination.

And Then There Are Those Who Just Don’t Care

Some people aren’t confused. They aren’t conflicted. They know they’re harming others — and they just don’t care. They say things like:

• “It’s not personal. It’s business.”

• “If they’re dumb enough to fall for it, that’s on them.”

• “Everyone does what they need to survive.”

This kind of thinking is dangerous. It doesn’t just erode trust — it breeds cruelty. It numbs us to pain. And in extreme cases, it leads to violence, exploitation, and even death. Because when people are no longer seen as human — just as targets — anything becomes justifiable.

What Can We Do?

We need more than outrage. We need accountability, honesty, and new definitions of success.

Here’s where to start:

• Redefine the hustle. Not everything that pays is worth doing. Not every win is a true gain.

• Be the whistleblower. If you see something, say something. Even if it’s unpopular.

• Audit your own values. Are you chasing wealth or meaning? Are you okay with a slower road if it’s cleaner?

• Stop celebrating scammers. Don’t follow, like, repost, or attend events run by people with questionable ethics — no matter how successful they look.

• Educate, don’t shame. Victims need support, not mockery. Offer guidance, not blame.

Final Thoughts

The Kenyan scammer is not just a criminal. Sometimes, they’re your friend, your cousin, your online coach — maybe even you. We must look inward if we’re going to fix what’s broken.

It’s time to call out the chaos, stop normalizing deceit, and rebuild a culture where honesty is not seen as stupidity — but as strength.