How I Survive Nairobi as a Freelancer With an Irregular Income

Sometimes, I think about my friends in salaried jobs. It often comes with a bolt of envy for the silent predictability they enjoy in their 9 - 5 jobs.

Besides the salary and the perks such as medical insurance, there’s tangible comfort in knowing that money shall come in on the 28^th. I absolutely envy that.

Then, I remind myself how much I hated Mondays and the alarm clocks. All the panic when I’m running late, and often for reasons beyond me, like bad traffic.

I tolerated my immediate supervisor, absolutely abhorred the office banter, and the understated pressure to have a more expensive phone. 

Above all, I’ve never forgotten starting every month broke as a church mouse after paying all the bills. I realised rather early that the chances of building wealth on my salary were quite slim.

I decided to quit, cold turkey - like a substance addict starting afresh with nothing but resolve and conviction. Something had to give.

‍Taking the Plunge

The thing they never quite tell you about freelancing is how long the silence lasts before the work starts to come in.

For me, it took more than a year - writing anything and everything. I did a lot of pro bono work and thought pieces that paid in “visibility.”

Hundreds of reports for NGOs that felt urgent until it was time to pay. It was as slow as watching a bean seed germinate, but slowly, the jobs began to trickle in.

Then, it picked up into a steady stream. Not quite a flood, but enough to keep me tethered to my screen most days.

The work wasn’t the problem. It never was.

I learned to research fast, write cleanly, hit up a friend to proofread and deliver on time. Clients liked me. They forwarded briefs. They promised more work. But liking is not paying. You work. You submit. Then you wait.

Sometimes, the wait is a few days. Sometimes it’s a new moon and two follow-ups later. And in between, life continues its usual routine of demands.

The Bills and Overheads

Rent, Wi-Fi, electricity, and the inevitable black tax all have a fixed timeline. School directors have dedicated bursars whose job role includes sending polite but firm reminder texts: Fee balance is due! We won't pick up any kid with a balance!

Deadlines do not care how the invoice cycle works.

Some months are bright. When the bank texts come, they sound like applause. You get to tick off a few debts, stroll the supermarket aisles for groceries - and, if good enough, send something small to your Sacco shares.

You even treat yourself to Nyama Choma and tip the waiter.

The other months? You are cancelling subscriptions and delaying plans. You think about borrowing, then decide against it, then borrow anyway. Every day, you have decisions to make: Do I use a boda boda or save the fare to buy mobile data? 

‍Smart Money Moves

I've always tried to set some aside for Sacco shares. A little into a savings app with withdrawal restrictions, that I'd call the ‘emergency fund’.

At some point, I even dabbled in Crypto bots for a while - until the market turned. A stinging loss taught me that it wasn't any different from gambling.

Talking of gambling, show me a freelancer who hasn't tried betting. I’ve tried that too. A cheeky scoreline here and a second-half goal there - you get to win or lose a few hundred.  It's a deep hole. There's a lot of danger there. 

Side Gigs Save The Day 

Life has a way of balancing things. To evade the high costs of living, I moved to a satellite town, just out of Nairobi - but within an hour's reach. 

Either by luck or providence, I landed a landlord with a heart of gold. I lived in the servants' quarters and I allowed to use an idle chicken coop in the compound to raise a few birds. 

I started with a few that grew into a flock within a year. Kienyeji chicken, free range. I started making meat and egg sales to neighbours, the local church, and making deliveries for orders on social media.

Oh, pigeons. I realised pigeons are always in high demand and quite cheap to keep. I dived in. I made ads on social media and became a supplier to several city restaurants. 

The one advantage a freelancer enjoys is unlimited time to run their project. Not just poultry - a freelancer has time to run a grocery, buy and sell bales of Mitumba or even a cab-hailing gig.

Life will push you to find ways to plug in the holes when the invoice is making rounds.

Would I Do It Again? 

Now, even when I’m broke, I do not panic. I may feel exhausted, yes - but it has trained me to find a good balance between money, time, debt, and hope. 

Freelancing is a strange kind of freedom; it is beautiful, brutal, and wildly unpredictable. 

If I had to do it again, I think I would. But, I’d start wiser. I wouldn't be seeing any glamour, for there is none. I'd definitely bring more grit.