Skip to main content

The Price of a Bargain: Why “It’s Not a Bargain If You Don’t Need It” Should Be Every Kenyan’s Mantra

“It’s not a bargain if you don’t need it.”

This phrase has quietly become my compass whenever a flashy deal or discount catches my eye. It’s simple, but powerful. And in a world that constantly pushes us to buy more, grab every offer, and never miss a sale, it’s the question we all need to ask ourselves.

Walk into any Kenyan supermarket like Quickmart or Naivas on discount day, and you’ll see a battlefield of bargains. Buy-one-get-one-free offers, 50% discounts, and flash sales everywhere. Chicken Inn and Pizza Inn tempt you with their famous “Wacky Wednesday” deals — two meals for the price of one or ridiculously low prices on combos that almost feel too good to be true.

But are they really bargains? Or just clever traps?

Take a moment and think: How often do you finish both pizzas from that deal, especially if you’re eating alone? How many times have you bought plastic gadgets or trinkets from shops like Miniso or China Square because they were “cheap,” only to realize later that they clutter your home or simply don’t serve a real purpose?

The psychology behind sales and discounts is no accident. Retailers, marketers, and social media influencers understand our vulnerabilities — our fear of missing out, our excitement over “saving” money, and the urge to stockpile “just in case.” Influencers like Shiko wa Hii Style show you how many socks or kitchen gadgets you can buy during a sale, making it seem like the ultimate win. But how many of those socks will actually get worn? How many pans do you really need in a kitchen that already functions well?

Here’s an interesting observation: the places where you find the most aggressive deals aren’t your local fresh food markets or nyama choma spots. Walk into an open-air market selling fresh ugali, vegetables, and meat, and you won’t see “buy one get one free” signs. You won’t find discounts on fresh Sukuma wiki or the daily eggs you buy from your neighborhood vendor. Why? Because fresh, essential foods are bought because people need them — they don’t need to be pushed with flashy offers.

Instead, it’s the fast food joints and processed foods that flood the discount scene. It’s these “conveniences” and “extras” that marketers push hard — encouraging overconsumption, clutter, and impulsive spending.

The same pattern emerges in housing and living arrangements. Shared spaces like Mosaic Living in Westlands, Parklands, advertise “all inclusive” rooms going for between KES15,000 and KES 25,000 a month. On paper, this looks like a steal. You don’t have to buy furniture, electronics, or worry about utilities — just bring your suitcase and settle in.

But what these bargains hide is the cramped reality of sharing small spaces with three or more strangers. Privacy is scarce, noise is constant, and the comfort of your own home feels compromised. That “bargain” rent might save you cash, but it can cost you peace of mind, rest, and your personal space — priceless things that no discount can buy back.

This theme plays out in so many areas of life. Meal bundles at fast food places nudge us toward overeating. Discount shops push cheap plastic clutter that quickly becomes trash. Renting “cheap” rooms often costs more in time, stress, and lost quality of life than the rent savings would suggest.

So, what’s the deeper lesson? Why does cheap often feel expensive in the long run? Because bargains aren’t just about price — they’re about value, fit, and impact on your life. A true bargain serves you. A false bargain steals from you — your time, your peace, your money, your space.

Before you rush to grab the next deal, pause and reflect:

  • Would I buy or accept this if it weren’t discounted or hyped?

  • Do I genuinely need it, or am I caught in a moment of excitement or pressure?

  • Will this add lasting value to my life, or will it fade into clutter or regret?

  • What hidden costs — in time, energy, peace, or relationships — am I ignoring?

  • Am I rushing because I fear missing out while others are buying?

Every Kenyan deserves to have this mantra close — because in a culture rich with hustle and heart, knowing when to say no is just as valuable as knowing when to say yes.

Sometimes, the best bargain isn’t what’s on sale — it’s the peace that comes with mindful choices.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...

The Loud Silence: Why Kenya Is Drowning in Noise—and What It's Costing Us

  “Beware the bareness of a busy life,” Socrates once said. But what about the loudness of a distracted one? From matatus blaring vulgar music, to church keshas echoing through residential estates, to restaurants where conversation is a fight against speakers—it seems Kenya has made noise the background of everyday life. But what is this obsession with sound? What is all this noise trying to drown out? Noise as Culture, But Also as Coping Let’s be clear: noise has always had a place in Kenyan culture. Luo benga, Kikuyu folk tunes, Luhya drumming, Swahili taarab… music and sound are part of celebration, spirituality, and storytelling. But what we’re experiencing now is different. What we’re hearing now is not cultural expression—it’s emotional avoidance. The Psychology of Noise: What Are We Running From? 1. Noise and Loneliness We live in a time of increasing isolation. Nairobi apartments are filled with single occupants. Friendships are transactional. Family members drift emo...

The Great Kenyan Home Ownership Madness: Dreams vs. Reality

Owning a home is a big dream for many Kenyans, but somewhere along the way, practicality has been thrown out the window. Too many people, driven by childhood aspirations or societal expectations, are constructing massive houses only to end up living like misers within them. Let’s break down why this trend makes little sense and what smarter, more sustainable homeownership looks like. The Harsh Reality of Owning a Big House in Kenya Many Kenyans, especially those who grew up in humble backgrounds, grew up being told to “dream big.” Unfortunately, this has translated into building unnecessarily large houses, often with rooms that remain unused, multiple verandahs gathering dust, and massive balconies that no one actually sits on. These houses cost millions to build, yet within a few years, the owners are struggling to maintain them, regretting their choices as they pour more money into renovations. If you need proof, just look at how many old houses in Nairobi remain unsold. No one wants...