The Kibandaski Mindset: Why Small-Scale Thinking is Holding Us Back as a Society

At South Sea 360, we had everything right. Or so we thought. The name is a playful nod to our location in South C and our passion for fresh, quality seafood. Set up as an extension of the 360 Group, we share the space with Fitness 360 Gym, one of our other subsidiaries.

We were hoping to draw in the corporate crowd nearby. We have plenty of both offices a stone throw away.? We went all out—top-notch chef, a simple but nice outdoorish curated ambiance, and a kitchen equipped to serve up the best fish dishes in town. Everything pointed to a great setup, and with the limited options around us, it seemed like we had a sure shot at cornering the market.

Then, just as we were finding our footing, a new sign appeared a few meters from us, scrawled in handwritten format "Fish here @ 200/-" in bold letters. It belonged to a kibandaski, the classic street-side food stall known for affordable, no-frills dining. Unlike South Sea, this place had no overheads—no rent to think of, no licenses to maintain,minimum salaries no frills. And she was undercutting our prices by more than half.

We had imagined ourselves as the clear choice in the area. Yet here we were, watching some of our customers casually drift toward this kibandaski. Despite the appeal of a polished, cozy restaurant, something about the kibandaski—the simplicity, the price, the familiarity—resonated with people in a way we hadn’t fully anticipated.

Curious about what was drawing customers away, I decided to visit the kibandaski myself one afternoon. The setup was minimal, almost makeshift, and just like South Sea, the? fish was equally fresh, and the atmosphere was relaxed, especially if a few wayward flies didn’t bother you much and the questionable source of water didn’t prick your hygiene conscience ( there is no piped water and the young street water vendors supplying jerican water are not necessarily the cleanest ). There are also no washrooms provided for customers. But that aside, customers greeted each other, the cook laughed as she flipped the fish, and the scent of spices filled the air. It was real, unpretentious, and affordable—a different kind of dining experience that felt uniquely Kenyan.?

And suddenly, I saw the appeal. But it also made me think about what this all represented.

There’s nothing wrong with a kibandaski, of course. It serves a real need in our society, especially in a city where the cost of living keeps climbing. But at the same time, I wondered why we, as a culture, often seem to settle for these kinds of quick, small-scale setups. We’re so used to getting by with less, and we seem to prefer the path of least resistance—even in business.

There’s something about a kibandaski—a small, roadside eatery—that many Kenyans can’t resist. Whether it's the aroma of fish frying over a charcoal stove, the friendly banter with the lady serving you, or the affordable prices that make it feel like a steal, kibandaskis are more than just food stops. They’re part of our culture, part of the everyday fabric of Kenyan life. But while the kibandaski itself is harmless, the mentality it symbolizes—sticking to the small and informal—is something we may need to outgrow if we want to thrive as a country, a continent, even.

Kenyans are famously adaptable. Former Safaricom CEO Bob Collymore once commented on our “peculiar Kenyan habits,” . He was right, noting how we’re just as likely to enjoy a meal at a high-end restaurant as we are to pull up a plastic chair at a kibandaski. We have a knack for balancing both worlds, embracing the flashy and the modest, albeit with kibandaski having a greater pull.?

But this kibandaski bias? can sometimes hinder our growth. It’s as if we’re so used to making do with less that we rarely feel the need to aim higher. And that’s the curse of the kibandaski mentality: the comfort we find in smallness when bigger is possible—and perhaps even necessary.

The Kibandaski as a Symbol

Kibandaskis serve a crucial role, especially in an economy where many struggle to make ends meet. They’re affordable, quick, and conveniently located, making them ideal for those on the go or on a budget. But let’s be real: they also represent a shortcut mentality. As a nation, we’re comfortable taking small steps when we should be thinking about leaps. Kibandaskis are built without licenses, official leases, or much oversight. They don’t contribute much to taxes, they’re prone to quick setups and even quicker shutdowns, and they rarely last long enough to scale into something more sustainable.

And this isn’t just about food. The kibandaski mentality exists everywhere in our society, from our business structures to our political landscape. Think about it: how many businesses do we see in Kenya that stay small for years, instead of aiming for growth? Or political parties that are just vehicles for individuals to rise up for a season, only to be forgotten the next? We don’t often build things to last, and that short-term mindset limits our potential.

The Curse of Small-Scale Thinking

This idea was put into powerful words by South African entrepreneur Vusi Thembekwayo, who, in a popular TEDx talk, urged Africans to think bigger than roadside businesses. “It’s not okay for us to be happy being vendors on the side of the road. What we need to do is own the place that produces the fruit, own the road infrastructure that moves it, and own the banking system that transacts the platform,” he said.

His point was clear: small businesses, like kibandaskis, serve a purpose but aren’t built for long-term growth. Small-scale businesses generally lack the resources to expand, hire widely, or even innovate. They fill gaps in the market, but they don’t create entirely new markets. This lack of scalability limits their impact and keeps the economy from progressing. When an economy is dominated by micro and small-scale enterprises, it misses out on the big opportunities, like attracting foreign investment, building competitive industries, or developing export markets.

Why We Stay Small

But if we’re so aware of the limitations of small thinking, why do we stick to it? There are several reasons. For one, it’s easier to set up a kibandaski-style business. You don’t need a lot of capital, you don’t have to worry much about regulation, and you don’t need formal training. Just as setting up a food stall on the roadside requires little overhead, other small businesses often skip the need for planning, saving on formal processes but sacrificing structure.

And let’s face it: there’s comfort in staying small. You don’t have to worry about complex tax obligations, hiring dozens of people, or dealing with mountains of paperwork. There’s also a sense of freedom in staying informal; you can close up shop at any time and move on. But what happens when every entrepreneur and business sticks to this model? We end up with an economy that’s good at getting by but not great at growing.

The Ripple Effect of the Kibandaski Mentality

This “make-do” mentality doesn’t just affect businesses; it seeps into other areas of our society. In Kenya’s urban centers, for example, we see sprawling, informal settlements because of a lack of coordinated urban planning. We’re experts at making things work for now but struggle to plan for ten, twenty, or thirty years ahead. Even in education, shortcuts are common, from cramming for exams to obtaining questionable degrees. The kibandaski mentality teaches us to work within our limitations instead of pushing to overcome them.

It also affects how we think about manufacturing and industry. In Kenya, we import the majority of our goods rather than making them ourselves, largely because our industries haven’t grown beyond small-scale operations. As a result, we remain consumers rather than creators, trapped in a cycle where big, transformative industries seem like a distant dream.

Breaking Free from the Kibandaski Trap

So, how do we escape this cycle? How do we encourage a new mindset that values growth, collaboration, and long-term thinking? Here are a few steps:

1. Invest in Education that Emphasizes Growth: It starts with education. We need programs that teach not only entrepreneurship but also how to scale businesses. Business classes in high school and universities can go beyond “side hustles” to teach students the fundamentals of growing businesses, understanding markets, and building sustainable companies.
2. Support Formalization and Growth Incentives: Governments can help by offering incentives for small businesses to formalize and scale up. This could include tax breaks, affordable credit, and training opportunities that make it easier for businesses to move from “kibandaski” to competitive enterprises.
3. Build Local Industries, Not Just Small Businesses: Rather than encouraging a scattered approach where everyone does their own thing, we should focus on building industries that can employ thousands, export products, and compete globally. This includes improving infrastructure, such as roads and power, which makes it easier for small businesses to expand and access larger markets.
4. Collaborate and Partner Across Borders: The Free Trade Area? regional concepts e.g COMESA offers an excellent opportunity to break the kibandaski mindset. If African businesses think continentally instead of locally, they open themselves to new markets, ideas, and innovations.

The Bottom Line: Think Big, Build Bigger

Imagine if we could take the spirit of the kibandaski—its affordability, accessibility, and grit—and pair it with the ambition of a global corporation. Imagine a Kenya, an Africa, that thinks bigger, invests in lasting infrastructure, and builds industries with global reach. We don’t have to abandon the kibandaski; instead, we can transform it into a stepping stone rather than a stopping point.

We are more than capable of thinking beyond our limits. We are ready to grow beyond the informal, make-shift structures we’ve settled for. The next time you sit at a kibandaski, savor the meal but consider this: it’s time to think bigger. Because while the kibandaski might fill us up for a moment, it’s the big dreams that will truly sustain us.

When not running 360 Group, or offering Communication Consultancy for institutions, Sissey is simply an observer of life, a teller of stories and a questioner of rationality.