A few years ago, when
you thought of shopping in Nairobi, the image was clear, a grand, glass-fronted
mall, complete with escalators, underground parking and anchor tenants selling
the promise of a Western-style retail experience.
We built them with ambition
and optimism, chasing the mall boom that swept through cities from Sandton to
Cairo.
But something has
shifted. Today, if you drive
down Lang’ata Road, or weave through the edges of Kilimani, Lavington, Karen,
or even Kisii, you’ll notice a new kind of retail quietly taking root: modest,
linear buildings housing grocers, cafés, pharmacies, barbershops, phone stores;
all neatly lined up with street-facing access and just enough parking to get in
and out quickly.
These are strip malls.
And they are not just filling gaps; they are transforming the way Kenyans shop.
We didn’t need market
research to know that our shopping habits were changing; just observation.
People no longer want an “outing” every time they needed milk, medicine or a
haircut.
Today’s urban consumer wants speed. They want proximity. They want to
get things done and move on with their lives. They don’t want to walk across
three levels of tile and glass to buy cough syrup. They don’t want to queue to
pay for diapers. They don’t want to hunt for parking just to grab a takeaway
pizza.
They want to stop,
shop, and go. This shift isn’t
driven by poverty or reduced expectations. It is driven by evolved priorities.
Time has become more precious than space. Convenience has become more valuable
than spectacle. The modern Kenyan shopper isn’t trying to impress anyone;
they’re trying to get things done efficiently, and maybe grab a decent cup of
coffee while they’re at it.
Strip malls deliver
exactly that. Their strength lies in their simplicity. They aren’t trying to be
everything to everyone. They’re designed to be enough for someone, quickly.
That parent picking up their child from school in Karen, that office worker
ducking out for lunch in Upper Hill, that driver topping up on fuel and airtime
in Kisumu,they all benefit from the frictionless experience a strip mall
offers.
For retailers, it is a
breath of fresh air. The cost to rent space in a strip mall is lower. The
service charges are reasonable. The flow of customers is constant, even if it’s
not overwhelming. You don’t have to depend on an anchor tenant to draw in
traffic. The whole model is organic: people come because it’s on their way, not
out of their way.
And for developers
like us, the model works. The investment is leaner. The build time is shorter.
And best of all, the uptake is strong. When we developed MyTown Karen, we
achieved full occupancy before the paint had even dried. Some tenants were
knocking on our doors before the walls went up. Why? Because the concept made
sense;it solved a real problem.
What we are seeing is
not a rejection of malls, but a redistribution of retail logic. There is still a
place for mega malls;places for family days, dates, and window shopping. But
they are no longer the default.
They have become destinations, not utilities. And
in between the destination shops and e-commerce clicks, there’s a rising need
for middle-ground retail, the kind that fits into daily life, not disrupts it.
Strip malls may not
be sexy. They won’t make the cover of an
architectural digest. But they work. They blend into the rhythms of modern
urban life. They are the quiet infrastructure behind a working city.
In many ways, they
represent where Kenya is going: not backward, not stagnant, but practical,
efficient, and thoughtful.
We are building less
for ego, more for utility. Less for glamour, more for flow. And in doing so,
we’re building cities that serve people, not the other way around.
Mwenda Thuranira is the CEO of Myspace Properties
Myspace Properties CEO Mwenda Thuranira /HANDOUT
