You know that feeling when you realize you’ve been played? When the world suddenly makes sense in the worst possible way? That’s what happened to one unsuspecting buyer in Nairobi. Standing there with a bucket of boiled eggs and absolutely nothing else. Not change, not dignity, not even an apology.
He had done everything right. Spotted the hawker, ordered two mayai boilo, and handed over a crisp Ksh.1000 note. Normal transaction. Normal day. But then came those six words that would haunt him forever: “Hold the bucket, nikutafutie change.”
The hawker then disappeared into the maze of Nairobi streets. The man never came back. Not after an hour. Not after two. Just gone, leaving behind a man clutching a bucket like it was his most prized possession, watching people walk past with knowing smiles.
This isn’t just a story about lost money anymore. It’s about what happens when trust collides with survival in a city that demands both in equal measure.
The hawker understood something fundamental about human nature. People will hold a bucket longer than they will admit they have been fooled. That shame runs deeper than Ksh.1000.
Social media erupted with laughter, but underneath it all was recognition. Because this isn’t about one man and one bucket. It is about every Nairobian who’s stood in that exact moment, realizing that the game is always rigged, and you’re always holding something that was never really yours to begin with.
