For eight days, Julián and I traveled through Nairobi, Kenya. The experience worked like a magnifying mirror: Observing this African city forces you, almost relentlessly, to rethink Mexico City.
Nairobi is a remarkably green city. Vegetation is abundant, and trees — jacarandas, mangoes, avocados, fig trees, ceibas — reach uncommon sizes. Many are over a century old and play a key urban role: They provide shade, reduce traffic noise and moderate temperatures. In this sense, Nairobi recalls certain areas of Mexico City, though here the vegetation is denser and better preserved.
There have been improvements in road infrastructure compared to a visit a decade ago. New highways and paved stretches exist; however, signage is poor and several projects remain unfinished. Pedestrians occupy a marginal place. Cars, matatus, motorcycles and tuk-tuks compete for space without clear rules. Traffic operates more by a logic of survival than by a planned mobility system.
The city is marked by extreme social contrasts. Nairobi has close to five million residents, and around 50% live in informal settlements without regular access to safe drinking water or electricity. Moving between high-income residential areas and working-class neighborhoods happens abruptly, without visible borders. This fragmentation feels familiar to anyone who has lived in Mexico City.
Despite the presence of international organizations and global offices, Nairobi does not feel particularly cosmopolitan. The urban center is active but lacks the cultural dynamism that characterizes Mexico City. Central parks are occupied mainly by unemployed people and historic buildings show advanced deterioration. Access to cultural spaces like the Nairobi Gallery or the National Archives is limited and bureaucratic, with small collections and a sparse curatorial offering.
The food scene also reflects inequality. There are good restaurants in affluent neighborhoods such as Karen or Loresho Crescent, but they are expensive and largely inaccessible to most people. By contrast, markets offer excellent-quality fresh fruits and vegetables, making simple, healthy eating possible. The large gardens in residential areas partially offset traffic chaos and the poor condition of sidewalks.
In terms of safety, Nairobi conveys a greater sense of calm than many neighborhoods in Mexico City. Everyday interactions are softened by basic greetings in Swahili, and in residential areas it is common to see interracial coexistence in restaurants and cafés, where African, Indian and European populations mix.
A visit to Kibera, Nairobi’s largest informal settlement, concentrates many of the city’s tensions. Nearly one million people live there in highly precarious conditions. The vitality of the place is evident, but so is the physical and emotional exhaustion of its residents. Unlike in other contexts, children here rarely smile and adults do not interact with visitors, the priority is daily survival.
Our guide, Winnie, is from Kibera and now works independently organizing tours. She could not point to sustained urban improvement programs or public policies that have fundamentally transformed the neighborhood. Her presence, well put-together, steady, without victimhood, moves through poverty without romanticizing it and leaves a familiar feeling for anyone who has walked through marginalized communities in Mexico.
This visit led me to reflect on the role of civil society organizations. Walking through Nairobi and Kibera contrasts sharply with what I have observed for years in Colorado’s Roaring Fork Valley, where non-governmental and nonprofit organizations make constant efforts, often with limited resources, to promote coexistence with migrant communities and expand equality of opportunity. Educational, cultural and legal-support programs do not eliminate structural inequality, but they do create minimum conditions of dignity, trust and belonging.
Nairobi does not offer a simple answer to the opening question of which city is “more messed up.” Rather, it confirms that urban inequality is a global phenomenon. The difference, to a large extent, is made by community organization and the collective will not to normalize exclusion.
Translation produced using ChatGPT and edited by Bianca Godina