Our Streets | Our Stories
Short Documentary
11.14 minutes
“Our Streets - Our Stories” is a short documentary about Donga, one of Nairobi’s 60,000 street children and one of the few who got a second chance to turn his life around. Donga grew up on the streets, without any formal education or role models to follow. However, after begging, hustling and stealing for years, his life changed when he joined Nai Nami, a social enterprise established by Gianmarco Marinello. Nai Nami’s approach is innovative and unique: we harness the street skills and life stories of street children, empowering them to create value for society. This sustainable business model enabled Donga and six other street children to showcase their life stories and monetize their street skills, by working as storyteller guides on an inspiring city tour in downtown Nairobi (not in the slums). Tourists have the chance to experience Nairobi through the eyes of former street children and our guides have a full-time job, a stable income and an interface to connect with people from all over the world. We believe that disadvantaged youth everywhere deserve the chance to a better future. We hope this film inspires you to expand on our approach and take it further. If you want to join the movement, reach out to us at info@nai-nami.com.
Credits:
Producer & Director & DOP: Mwaura Timothy
Writer: Abubakar Norman Sense
Editor: Charlie Kimilu
Sound design & Mastering: Ronnie Mugambi
Sound & Assistant Producer: Belete Negusie
Production Assistant: James Gitau
Subtitles, QA: Manuela Stoicescu
Executive Producers: Gianmarco Marinello, Mwaura Timothy, Valentina Sauve
N a i r o b i ’ s S t o r i e s |
S u r v i v a l & S h a d o w s T h a t S h a p e U s
Aren’t we all filmmakers?
It’s more than a casual question—it’s a pulse. A quiet throb in the back of every Nairobian’s mind, rising with the scent of scandal, whispered truths or a story too juicy to ignore. That deep, unshakable murmur that lingers behind the eyes, asking: Is this the truth? Or just the beginning of it?
In this city, storytelling isn’t a profession. It’s a reflex. The matatu driver with a wild tale, the market woman weaving gossip between sales, the late-night tweet that spirals into a thousand imaginations.
The only real difference is the choice of lens—some of us use cameras, others use words, rhythm, glances, or silence. Nairobi breathes story. We’re just trying to capture it before it disappears into the smoke.
When I first met Donga, I wasn’t sure whose story he was really telling. His memories scared me—not just for what they held, but because they could’ve been mine. Our plotlines overlapped like cracked sidewalks in Eastlands | westlands. A gripping thriller set in the Nairobi that wakes up when everyone else goes to sleep.
Everyone has their version of who he was or what he did. But those near-death experiences? They weren’t just survival stories. They were transformations—profound, almost spiritual. He came out like a smooth rock on the riverbed, reshaped by currents he never chose.
It was through him and his friends at Nai Nami that I finally understood what it means to be born and bred in Nairobi. Emphasis on bred. Like fire-forged steel.
We all carry stories from our past. Some we laugh about now—but they were hell to survive.
The Lens of Nai Nami: Rewriting the Script
All the crew at Nai Nami aren’t just survivors. They’re alchemists. They take the lead roles forced on them—thug, outcast, statistic—and rewrite the script. Former street kids and reformed hustlers, they now lead tourists through Nairobi’s underbelly, trading bullet casings for microphones. “You think you know this city?” their walks seem to ask. “Let us show you the scenes they cut out.
Nai Nami’s work isn’t charity. It’s counter-programming.
Economic Apartheid, Rewritten: Nairobi’s informal settlements have a 60% youth unemployment rate (KNBS 2022). Nai Nami flips this: ex-gang members become tour guides earning livable wages. One former "Gaza" member now runs a carwash funded by microloans from the group.
Police Brutality, Reframed: Their "Truth Walks" force visitors to confront systemic violence. Guides recount being arrested for "loitering" while hustling for food money. These aren’t sob stories—they’re indictments.
Vigilante Justice, Reversed: After mob lynchings spiked in 2023, Nai Nami launched "Dialogue Walks" in Mathare, Residents air grievances over chai, not fists. Retaliatory violence dropped 40% in six months.
But here’s the twist: they’re not just telling stories. They’re hacking Nairobi’s narrative.
Aren’t we all filmmakers?
The flower vendor spinning tales to sell roses.
The riot cop framing a scene with his baton.
The politician editing his speech to cut the poor out of the frame.
Nai Nami’s guides? They’re the auteurs. Their “films” are raw, unrated:



Scene 1:
A reformed criminal demonstrates how he once slit bag straps at City Market—then explains the rent he paid with stolen phones.
Scene 2:
A woman guides tourists past the spot her brother was lynched. “They called him a thief,” she says. “I call him my first love.”
Scene 3:
A former gang lord-turned-mentor teaches kids to spar in a Mathare boxing ring. “Hit the bag, not each other,” he growls.
Your Role in This Plot
We all have stories we laugh about now but bled to live through.
Nai Nami forces a question: What if we stopped romanticizing resilience and started dismantling the systems that demand it?
Their work isn’t about “saving” anyone. It’s about accountability—for the cops who kill, the politicians who incite, the neighbors who torch a boy over a rumor. It’s about admitting that we’ve all directed scenes in this tragedy.
Cut! Or… Action?
Nairobi’s stories won’t stop disappearing into the smoke. But Nai Nami hands us a lens—and a choice:
Zoom out: Keep reducing these lives to clickbait—“Thug Lynched in Mathare!”—while sipping lattes in Lavington.
Zoom in: Book their walks. Listen. Let their stories rewire your idea of "crime," "justice," and who gets to survive this city.
When Donga said, “You’re just one bad day away from being me,” it wasn’t a threat. It was an invitation to finally see the script we’re all trapped in—and tear it up.
That murmur in your mind? It’s not just curiosity. It’s guilt. It’s grief. It’s the story you’ve been too afraid to tell.
Nai Nami’s waiting | But so is Nairobi.
What’s your story?
It could be a memory—the kind that flickers like an old film.
It could be a mission—a project bending the world toward good.
It could be a product, a dream, or the quiet idea you’ve never shared.
It could be you, raw and real, waiting to be framed in light.
Everything is a story. We’re all ears. Get in touch.