If a child grows up to be kind, healthy, responsible, self-sufficient, and decent—but not wealthy—has the sacrifice failed? Most people would instinctively say no. Yet many families behave as though the answer is yes. Not openly, of course. No parent sits their child down and says, "I didn't raise you to be happy. I raised you to be rich." But expectations have a way of revealing themselves. In comparisons with more successful relatives. In questions about promotions, land, and home ownership. In the disappointment that hangs in the air when a child is doing well enough to survive but not well enough to transform the family's fortunes. And perhaps nowhere is this tension more visible than in Kenya, where sacrifice is often treated as the highest form of love. Parents sacrifice for their children. Older siblings sacrifice for younger siblings. Entire generations sacrifice in the hope that the next one will live better. But what happens when sacrifice quietly becomes an...
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: A deep understanding of desperation. A smooth tongue. And a society that rewards shortcuts. Scammers don’t create ho...