Counterfeit liquor: When your 'favourite poison' is poisonous

"Name your poison," is a popular phrase among revellers ordering their favourite drink. In the Nairobi club scene, the phrase might be just a little too literal.

Consider this: Four Pulsers walk into a popular club on Thika Road, and after securing seats, a debate ensues about what to order.

According to one, let’s call him Lawrence, they can’t order a certain popular gin because he’s been told by a friend who runs a liquor business that the drink is currently not on the market.

“I swear if they have that drink here, it’s fake,” he explains, speaking louder to be heard above the afrobeat song playing. The waiter stands awkwardly, not having much opinion about what’s being discussed.

Eventually, the group goes with what Lawrence is suggesting—the thought of waking up in a hospital with a drip running from one’s hand is scary enough.

And that’s the current situation, especially in the Nairobi drinking scene. Pulsers want to enjoy their moments but have to stay vigilant because what goes into their mouths could be poison.

Check through social media, and there is always a Pulser or three complaining about a bad experience with counterfeit booze. Ask people in a random room which places to avoid when concerned about fake liquor, and they will name about five, including well-known and popular clubs.

X user Ja Loka captured the situation, posting, "Kenyan club owners are shameless. You purchase an expensive whiskey or cognac, and they escort it to your table with those pretty girls in uniforms carrying flickering lights and dancing for it, yet deep down they know the liquor is fake!”

The situation is so dire that some enterprising Kenyans are now walking into bars and liquor stores with scanners!

Speaking to Edwin Karanja, a bar manager of a popular joint on Kiambu Bypass, clubs are being cunning if they allow fake booze to be stocked.

“We take all our orders from the source. Whether it's international brands or local stock, we always get our deliveries from the dealers, not any random suppliers,” he said, while taking stock after a busy weekend.

“If you are observant enough, there is always a pattern of fake liquor in specific areas of Nairobi and specific clubs. There are clubs where no single person has ever complained of being sold something illicit,” he added.

Cases of counterfeit liquor are as synonymous with Kenya as our love for partying.

In the early 2000s, illicit liquor was a mainstay of cheap spirits. This is no longer the case, with unscrupulous dealers managing to counterfeit expensive brands.

As recently as March, the Anti-Counterfeit Agency unearthed a distillery in Mutuati, Meru, with stock worth Sh450 million.

The factory was on the outside of a nice homestead. It had been turned into a serious liquor operation with fake KRA stamps in its possession.

To put the blame squarely on government authorities is to avoid a problem exacerbated by our inability to stay vigilant in a country that’s becoming more capitalist by the day.

Who is sober enough at 2 a.m. to check for KeBS certification on your 'mzinga'?

The fight is real, and it has even been taken up by the upper echelons of Kenyan society.

In March, the Deputy President informed the country that plans were in place to reintroduce low-priced but healthy and affordable alcoholic drinks as one of the ways of eradicating illicit brews on the market.

“We have asked the manufacturer to start a cheap, healthy, and affordable alcoholic drink. We will address the taxation issue,” said the DP.

“The main problem is the portable spirits, whose alcohol level is extremely high and toxic—which have ruined families. As a government, we have a responsibility to eradicate illicit brews.”

In the meantime, as KRA, KeBS, the Anti-Counterfeit Agency, and even county governments try to unearth operators conducting their business illegally or selling what they shouldn’t, we are left to our own devices and peer reviews of where and what we shouldn’t buy.