I Bought a Ksh960K Car While Living in a Single Room

Like many boys, I grew up dreaming of the day I’d own a car — not for status, but for what it symbolised: freedom, progress, and a reward for hard work.

When I got my first job, that dream became a goal. It took sacrifice, discipline, and a few tough financial decisions, but I’ve now owned three cars in my 33 years. Each one marks a step forward — a quiet reminder of how far I’ve come.

Here is my story

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When I finally landed my first job, I did not dream of designer clothes or exotic holidays. I dreamed of owning a car. My own car, and true to the word, I bought my first car - a pink 2001 Toyota Vitz in 2015 from a family member. I was fresh from campus and eager to start my journey as a car owner.

The deal was friendly: pay Ksh300,000 in installments of Ksh20,000 per month. With my job as a pensionable employee pocketing a monthly salary of Ksh50,000, fulfilling these installments was a mountain, but not impossible. I was only 23 and had become a dad, but making the payments was easy because I lived with my parents, and my daughter’s expenses were minimal. 

The first few months were smooth. The Vitz was more than just a car—it was a symbol of independence. However, things took a turn in May 2017 when I got into an accident. I was sandwiched between two matatus, and my car was badly damaged. 

My insurance company refused to cover the repairs, citing the involvement of public service vehicles (PSVs) as a complication. I was young and inexperienced, so I footed the Ksh74,000 repair bill out of pocket. This setback disrupted my repayment plan. The accident marked the beginning of the car’s decline.

Despite repairs, the Vitz was never the same again. It developed recurring issues—suspension problems every few months, a blown head gasket, and wiring faults. I found myself spending around Ksh6,000 monthly on maintenance alone, not to mention I had now reduced my repayment to Ksh15,000 to cope with everything else. The financial pressure had mounted.

By early 2018, I was overwhelmed. The car had become a liability, and I was sinking deeper into debt. I made the painful decision to sell it for Ksh250,000—a throwaway price. I used 60% of the proceeds to clear the remaining balance with my relative, and I stabilized for a while. I, however, still harboured the dream of having a car, and I worked towards that goal.

The Second and the Most Tasking Car

In 2019, I bought my second car, but the journey was not easy. I set my eyes on getting a proper upgrade. While many friends advised me to invest and postpone buying a car, their lifestyle didn’t resonate with me — same jobs, same income, no cars, just land “mashinani.” I decided to carve my own path.

I laid down a path towards car ownership and saved aggressively. By this time, my job had grown, and I was earning approximately Ksh70,000 (Approximate because my income fluctuated between Ksh65,000 and Ksh80,000 month-to-month depending on bonuses). 

I put away 80% of my salary into a car fund and lived on the bare minimum. I walked over 2km daily to save on bodaboda fare. This time, my monthly budget was Ksh10,000 — including rent, food, transport, and my daughter’s upkeep. This is when I lived in a single room to maximise on savings.

By June 2018, I had saved Ksh580,000, enough for a decent car, but I didn’t want another Kadudu or “Uber car.” So I pushed on.

However, the toll was showing. I lost weight, cut off social outings, and my lifestyle raised concerns among friends and family. My mother, noticing the changes, sat me down. I eventually opened up, explaining my intense focus and goal. She understood — and later, in late 2019, she gave me a much-needed financial boost of Ksh250,000 after doing her own research through friends in the car industry.

The support got me closer to my goal, and with a few more salary top-ups, I had saved Ksh960,000 — enough to chase my next dream. I called up a close friend, and we made the trip down to Mombasa, chasing a lead on a KCQ Honda Civic Hybrid owned by an Indian expat preparing to leave the country.

By Saturday afternoon, the deal was done. My name was on the logbook. It felt unreal — like I’d crossed some invisible threshold from dreaming to doing. It was risky. It was bold. But it was mine.

The Civic served me faithfully for two years, and with it came lessons no one teaches you upfront — comprehensive insurance, regular servicing, and smart car care. Things I wish I knew back in my Vitz days. It wasn’t just a car. It was a classroom on wheels.

Now it’s 2025. I’m 33. The Civic has a new owner, and I’ve since downsized to a second-hand Toyota Axio, bought for Ksh800,000. It’s simpler, but it fits where I am now — a little older, a bit wiser, and still moving forward.

Each car I’ve owned hasn’t just taken me places. It mirrored the season I was in. And as the engines changed, so did I — learning, adjusting, growing. For me, owning a car has never just been about getting from point A to B. It’s been about becoming.