A barbeque gathering at the residence of a Kenyan ambassador to celebrate a national day or lining up the streets of a foreign city to support visiting Kenyan roadrunners, are probably the two most unifying activities for the Kenyan diaspora abroad. 

On these occasions, you feel the togetherness of Kenyans.

Conversing in Kiswahili with some dressed in Kenyan colours attire makes one feel quite at home. 

Sometimes the embassy spices up the events with traditional Kenyan cuisine of ugali and nyama choma, among others.

Other than these emotionally unifying occasions, the Kenya diaspora abroad is, otherwise, quite diverse with very varied interests and appreciation of their “Kenyanhood”.

Among the Kenyan diaspora abroad are migrant workers, business entrepreneurs, expatriates, diplomats, international civil servants, as well as those who have migrated for family reasons.

The list can go on to include many other types of Kenyans working and living abroad.

Each of these categories has a different, and sometimes quite unique way of appreciating their “Kenyanness” with equally varying levels of attachment to their motherland.

Living abroad and being attached to Kenya sometimes comes at a price.

For those serving defined short contracts abroad, though, it makes sense to continue the connection with Kenya.

For the ones with longer or indefinite stay, however, there may be less interest to focus on Kenya.

Investing in Kenya when you hardly go there can be a risky and unnecessary undertaking.

Stories abound about how Kenyans living abroad have lost their investments to tricksters in the country - some of them close relatives - who take advantage of their absence.

Largely though, many Kenyans working and living abroad in different capacities, once in a while, invest back home.

The majority of them also remain socially attached to friends and relatives back home.

Given that some still maintain families back in Kenya – be they nucleus or extended ones – investing in the country has sentimental value for them.

 It is also often seen as good basic economics: earning in hard currency abroad and investing it in shillings in Kenya.

No wonder diaspora remittances have in recent times been recognized as among the important pillars of the Kenyan economy.

It is mind-boggling to see the quoted figures of these remittances in the country’s economy.

According to a Central Bank of Kenya survey, diaspora remittances to Kenya for 2021 amounted to USD 3,718 million, which is equivalent to 3 per cent of the country’s GDP.

 This is a huge amount of money, despite the fact that the survey only captured remittances done through formal channels, like through commercial banks and other authorized international remittance service providers in Kenya. 

Remittance through informal channels and in-kind payments are not part of this survey.

Aside from the huge amounts remitted by the diaspora community back to Kenya, the most intriguing aspect is the purpose for which this money is sent.

Quite a bit of it is remitted to sustain social connection.

With the widespread social media networking, most Kenyans in the diaspora belong to one or several WhatsApp groups, where they regularly interact and share information with their relatives, friends or even former school or college mates.

These channels keep the immigrants constantly informed on the many happenings in Kenya.

Apart from being a reliable source of information, social media networks also lock the diaspora community into myriads of fundraising groups for varied activities.

Almost every other day, your name is added to one such fundraiser group back in Kenya.

Even for many who appreciate harambee as a positive social mobilization practice for community development activities, there is a feeling the recent trend of fundraising activities through social media is steadily getting out of hand; sometimes to a nuisance level. 

We are fundraising for virtually everything.

People have exploited the flexibility of social media networking to extend fundraising activities beyond those of community interest.  

For a long time now, Kenyans have contributed to pre-wedding fundraising efforts, where prospective couples often reach out to friends and relatives to assist in catering for the expenses of their weddings.

This decades-old practice, even though personal, is still very much embraced by our society.

You look unique - if not weird - to wed without calling for such a fundraising event, even if you can afford it.

The other one in this category is funeral-related fundraisers.

Almost every burial is preceded by some financial contribution to foot the related expenses.

This happens even with well-to-do families that can afford the expenses of such occasions.

Lately, however, we have witnessed other more personalized levels of pre-wedding activities.

These are cases where a prospective groom rallies friends and relatives to financially support him and make his initial visit to his fiancé's parents.

The intent here is to make such visits big and lavish – show off if you wish.

The list of personalized activities that are now attracting fundraising efforts is fast expanding.

Some of these are quite intriguing especially when viewed by Kenyans who have lived abroad for a long time and are not constantly in touch with the country’s social dynamics.

Many who live in Europe, America and elsewhere know how simple events such as weddings and burials can be; even for people considered rich.

It is some of these comparisons that make the diaspora community question the logic for Kenyans' appetite to stage lavish personal ceremonies that have to be funded by contributions from their friends and relatives.

Is it morally comfortable to subject one's friends and relatives to punitive fundraisers just to achieve an expensive ceremony for an otherwise personal event?

Of course, the explanation is always that it is African to come to one another’s assistance in times of need.

Really? What is African in holding expensive wedding or burial ceremonies when you can’t afford them? The practices are neither African nor even religious.

It seems the main driver towards having these big and lavish events is just to show off.

This is why many in the diaspora are critical of such events.

Those who have dared question this trend, however, have been dismissed either as stingy or overly adapted to foreign behaviours that do not acknowledge community solidarity.

Quite a good number continue donating to these functions unwillingly, keep the relations, while others quietly exclude themselves from exercises that they feel do not meet their moral approval.

The focus on lavish events has attracted event organizers to pitch in this growing business niche.

The involvement of professional event organizers makes the functions come out quite well and worth the money.  This has become a lucrative industry.

Not long ago a friend’s father was diagnosed with cancer that required an expensive weekly procedure.

The cost was beyond the reach of the family.

A fundraising WhatsApp group was created with an appeal to help meet the cost of the treatment.

Three months down the line, the appeal was non-responsive. Later, the old man passed on and left behind a huge hospital bill.

During his hospitalization, only close family members visited him.

At one point an appeal was made for blood donation for his treatment, and, again, only close family members responded to it.

Interestingly, after his passing on, the same WhatsApp group became extremely active with contributions towards his burial flowing in big amounts.

The group was oversubscribed in days. Within a week, more than Sh2 million had been raised for his body’s burial expenses.

The burial itself was big and lavish with who-is-who in the community attending.

Pictures of the ceremony were shared through the WhatsApp group and we all felt part of the big send-off event.

One, however, couldn’t help wondering where all these people were when they were needed to help save the man’s life. 

Is it about time we start having conversations on the growing focus on expensive social events against what is important and necessary?

Isn’t more important to help people with hospital treatment than to contribute to their burial?

Is there room for a simple wedding? Can we visit our parents and our in-laws without mobilizing friends and relatives to help us stage expensive ceremonies?

Where do we draw the line between private and personal events as opposed to those meant for public or community good?

This, however, does not mean all expensive burial and wedding events are undesirable.

Neither does it mean that we should not contribute to giving friends and relatives decent burials or memorable wedding ceremonies.

As long as we do not unnecessarily burden friends and relatives to achieve the big events, let the events be.

In the diaspora, we are not receiving as many fundraising requests for building schools, hospitals and other public and community projects, as we do for the personalized ones.

Could this trend slowly be killing the community-focused harambees in favour of personal-related activities? By Mutua Muthusi, The Star