By : Vincent Mumba
“What do you bring to the table?”
“How much do you earn?”
“Will you still love me if I have nothing?”
“Will you leave when I can no longer give?”
These aren’t just questions. They’re the unspoken fears beneath many of today’s love stories. Is it still love if it hinges on what I can offer? Or has romance turned into yet another form of currency in a world obsessed with returns? In Nairobi, someone is always bringing something to the table. Sometimes it’s love. Sometimes it’s the bill.
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Let’s be honest. Many modern relationships feel less like soulful unions and more like strategic partnerships. Love, once unpredictable and unreasonable, now often reads like a contract. Affection, time, and even loyalty—given in exchange for status, security, beauty, and clout. It’s no longer enough to live simply. You must prove your value—constantly.
This mindset didn’t appear overnight. It’s been trickling down through generations, but Gen Z has perfected it. Just scroll through TikTok Kenya or eavesdrop on conversations in Nairobi. Wababa are openly sponsoring Gen Z girls, offering rent, vacations, and soft life perks in return for companionship, sex, and the illusion of youth. On the flip side, some kababas are also being taken in by older women with stable incomes, in pursuit of financial security and emotional mothering. “Form ni wamama.” “Siwezi date mtu hana plan.” These aren’t just funny one-liners—they’re reflections of how survival and dating have become deeply entangled.
A 2023 study by Pew Research found that 63% of Gen Z globally prioritize financial stability in a partner, higher than Millennials or Gen X at the same age. In Kenya, where youth unemployment hovers around 35% (World Bank, 2024), it’s no surprise that “sponsorship” culture thrives. A quick X search reveals posts joking about “Gen Z girls dating ATMs” or “kababas hunting sugar mummies,” but behind the humor lies the truth: economic pressure shapes love.
We live in a capitalist, hyper-individualistic world that rewards gain over grace. And in this world, even love is approached with a spreadsheet mindset. Swiping apps like Tinder have turned people into profiles, humans into potential transactions. And so we ask, almost unconsciously: What’s the ROI of this relationship? Of course, not all exchanges are bad. Healthy relationships do involve mutual giving—emotional labor, time, support, and presence. But the problem begins when relationships become purely strategic. When care is conditional. When people love you only as long as you are profitable—emotionally or materially.
This transactional lens affects everyone. Men are taught to measure their masculinity through provision. Women are taught to equate love with lifestyle. And both sides grow suspicious:
“He’s only here for what I look like.”
“She’s only here for what I can provide.”
Genuine affection gets buried beneath guarded hearts and silent expectations.
And yes, there’s a double standard in how we talk about it. A woman who seeks financial security is labeled a gold-digger. A man who desires beauty or submission is dismissed as shallow. But these instincts aren’t baseless, they are shaped by culture, economics, and survival. In a country where the cost of living can choke love itself, can we blame people for wanting some form of certainty?
Still, we’re losing something sacred.
When relationships mimic deals, something gets lost. Gen Z’s hustle mindset, quite admirable in its pragmatism, can erode trust. Constant scorekeeping (who paid for what, who showed up more) turns partners into competitors. Authenticity fades as people perform “marketable” versions of themselves, hiding flaws to stay “chosen.”
So, can we undo this? Maybe not entirely. The truth is, we may never fully escape the transactional undertones of modern love. The world is wired that way now. But perhaps we can resist it. We can choose to value more than material or image. We can learn to love people not for their net worth but for their soul’s weight. For their steadiness. Their consistency. The way they sit with you—not when everything is working, but when everything is falling apart.
Love doesn’t have to be blind. But it also doesn’t have to be transactional. We can love more deliberately. Ask deeper questions. Choose people for reasons that go beyond what they bring to the table. Because at the end of the day, it’s not just about what someone gives you.
It’s about how they hold you when you have nothing left to give.
Vincent Mumba is a Nairobi-based writer who blends humor and street wisdom to tell raw, relatable stories.Find him on Twitter @vincent_mumba.
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