I should become a stand‑up comedian, I think to myself in a half‑full fourteen‑seater matatu as I wait for it to get full. I am heading to the Nairobi International Comedy Festival gala and awards event, a festival that has been running since August 25, and I am excited; we are celebrating African stand‑up tonight.
I start thinking of a joke. I imagine myself on a stage, an audience of more than 1,000, or maybe 500, since Kenyans would rather stand in the cold to watch an artiste who was relevant thirty years ago than attend a stand‑up event. Anyway, I am on stage, mic in hand.
“Sometimes it feels like in Africa jokes write themselves. Instead of coming up with policies that guarantee unlimited internet connectivity across the country so rural youth can access international opportunities, since the government has failed to create jobs, policymakers propose a law introducing an internet metering system requiring providers to track consumption via unique subscriber meter numbers and report data to state regulators.
Framed as consumer protection, it basically nukes consumer privacy and opens up citizen surveillance. The most devastating part is that it will make internet expensive and lock out young people looking for opportunities elsewhere. But I know what you are thinking: since this is Africa, what is the catch here? One, possibly political survival via silencing the youth through surveillance based on the events of 2024. Two, continuing the trend of invading the middle‑class wallet because policymakers are too lazy to come up with creative ways of making money. Or maybe three, just the classic greed, someone somewhere is eyeing a tender.”
Then comes the punchline.
“Well, this country is supposed to be the Silicon Savannah, a leader in growing technology and innovation, but as the policymakers throw the country back into the Stone Age, the people are busy talking about alcohol.”
I lean back. By that time, the matatu is on the move. Not even a smile on my face, I would probably bomb on stage. I shudder and decide to keep my day job. Thirty minutes later I walk into Mövenpick, the venue. I sign in, grab a coffee, and settle in for some of Africa’s finest comedians.
The venue has a sense of order. Two big displays flank the stage, which features a black background, the event logo, and a mic. Simple, clean.
It is 7pm. People slowly start stream in, good music plays in the background. The show should start in 30 minutes, I am forgetting this is Africa. Thirty minutes pass, then an hour. We wait for an 1:40 minutes. My coffee buzz is fading as Doug Mutai and the security head make an announcement.
Kick‑off
Ty Ngachira, in a blue suit, finally takes the stage. He is going to be host for the evening. Good choice, I tell myself. He lays out the rules, explaining the format, and makes sure even first‑timers in the venue know exactly what is happening.
It is a different format. Each comedian performs, then presents an award. He warms us up with bits about Kenya as the cradle of Africa, Ruiru bitters, and playful digs at Nigerians, Rwandan and other african countries, effectively setting up the theme of the evening, a comedic celebration of Africa.
Babu Joe from Rwanda is the opening act. He walks us through his journey of becoming a comedian in Rwanda and other countries’ perception of the nation and stand‑up comedy. He talks about travelling, proving himself abroad.
I am impressed by how comfortable he is on stage. I can see the experience in how he commands the stage. He is funny without being over the top, a perfect opener. Ty returns for a bit of banter, then guides him into presenting Breakthrough Act of the Year. Nelly Wangechi wins. I note she is dressed for the event and thrilled as she picks up the award.
Maina Munene follows, dressed in green. Thankfully, Ty asks about the outfit later. His set bounces from white people in Nairobi and their “safe words” to giraffes with questionable attitudes, Indians in Parklands, and strip clubs. He moves confidently across the stage, full of energy, and his timing is impeccable as always. After his set, he presents Best Female Comedian, which again goes to Nelly Wangechi, now twice a winner and visibly humbled.
Forever from Nigeria comes next, in a suit. I am immediately taken aback by how contained he is. I mean, he is a Nigerian, and we all know how loud they are. He starts with some self‑deprecating humour, then touches on corruption, protests, and travelling through 21 countries. He even throws in a bit on Kenyan obsession with chips. I am still hung up on why his cadence and charisma are controlled.
Apart from the accent, you would not be able to tell he was Nigerian. Ty joins him for banter about Kenya versus Nigeria before he hands Best Male Comedian to Adan Abdi.
Sadick Ali from Tanzania is next. He kicks off with the current situation with Kenya and Tanzania, his father’s reaction to him becoming a comedian, and playfully roasts a sponsor of the event. He surprises us with a thoughtful bit on Tanzania’s film industry and travelling across Africa. I am taken aback by his delivery. He is surprisingly articulate for a Tanzanian. He presents Best Comedy Special to Amandeep Jadge, who makes a lively entrance to accept it. Looking at Aman, I figure he did not expect to win.
Adan Abdi follows. His outfit makes him look like a hip New Yorker. He is bold and confident on stage, riffing on being African, travelling, and being a single Somalian in Nairobi. His precision stands out. At that moment, I am interrupted and forced to leave the room for a few minutes.
The switch
By the time I get back, Okello Okello from Uganda has taken the stage. He is in an all‑white outfit. Then I start feeling the switch in energy. His chicken jokes, boda boda chaos, Ugandan police, and protest experiences are spot on. His pacing and punchlines have the room in tears. He is a great storyteller, but by that time I can hardly breathe.
Ty Ngachira thankfully asks about the outfit, clearly he sees that he is setting him up, and Okelo runs with it. He delivers a self‑deprecating bit on his skin colour that brings the house down. He presents an award for Headliner of the Year to a fellow Ugandan, Hillary Okello, who comes in prepared with a prop that turns into a joke.
Bexta Ndabalime from South Africa brings the energy and delivers a nostalgic routine about love letters and exaggerated song lyrics. He reads the room perfectly. I note just how relatable his material is, keeping millennials and older guests laughing. His energy, pacing, and stage presence demand attention. His banter with Ty Ngachira becomes another random but very funny bit. By this time I am crying. He presents Live Performer of the Year to Arnold Saviour, who accepts via phone, creating a quirky moment.
Doug Mutai appears unexpectedly in a suit, thanking the crowd before announcing a surprise award: Best Friend of Comedy, given to Karimi Ngeera, a judge and loyal supporter of the Kenyan comedy scene.
Hillary Okello, the winner of Headliner of the Year from Uganda, makes a surprise performance. At first, I am not thinking much of it as he starts off with a boda boda bit, but he shifts gears when he goes into a church routine. Through good pacing, storytelling, timing, and delivery, he has the room in tears, which justifies the award he received.
A smartly dressed Mammito Eunice joins Doug on stage, joking about motherhood and thanking the sponsor. They bring out the performer of the evening. I take out my phone, something I do not usually do, and capture that golden moment, having that group of talent all at once on one stage.
This is the first edition of the festival to not only showcase comedy but honour comedians with awards, and they nailed it except for two things.
My only gripes are timekeeping and the trophies themselves. The design and choice of Gold is generic. An African‑crafted design would be more fitting. The organisers should visit Wamunyu or Kisii for uniquely aesthetically pleasing and authentically African trophies. Still, I leave happy. Yes, my country is about to be thrown back into the dark ages, but I walk out knowing I have witnessed something special: African comedy celebrated live in Nairobi.
Nairobi International Comedy Festival 2026 award winners Breakthrough Act of the Year — Nelly Wangechi Best Female Comedian — Nelly Wangechi Best Male Comedian — Adan Abdi Best Comedy Special — Amandeep Jadge Headliner of the Year — Hillary Okello Live Performer of the Year — Arnold Saviour Best Friend of Comedy — Karimi Ngeera
