The place was so associated with red soil that residents did not need introductions in the Nairobi CBD — their trousers introduced them first.

But times have changed. Dramatically.

The red soil that once travelled faithfully with residents to work in town has been retired, thanks to fully tarmacked feeder roads weaving neatly between rising residential flats. Today, you can leave Kinoo in black shoes and arrive in town with the same black shoes. Growth. Progress. Civilisation. As the locals now confidently declare: Maisha London.

Even Churchill Ndambuki, alias King’ang’i — yes, the very one said to have once lived in 87, I believe, and who occasionally seasoned his morning radio show with playful jabs about Kinoo — might need to revise his script. Sir, respectfully, the place is now smooth. It is tarmacked. It is mud- and dust-free. We now enter town the Eastlands way — heads high, shoes clean.

And speaking of Eastlands, some of its finest mannerisms have migrated westward to Kinoo and neighbouring estates. At the matatu stage in Kinoo, for instance, you will see a beautiful performance of urban chivalry. A ragged tout stretches out his hand to help a lady board or alight a matatu. It is theatre. It is customer care. It is romance on wheels. The girls love it. They feel supported — literally.

This has sparked a silent but intense rivalry between Super Metro and newest entrant Enabled Matatu Sacco. It is no longer just about who has the loudest music or the brightest graffiti. It is about who can offer premium courtesy to the working class. Customer service has entered the chat.

This peri-urban settlement has also quietly become a Gen Z headquarters. Young, educated, working professionals have pitched camp here in large numbers. They want fresh air without losing WiFi. They want proximity to Nairobi without inhaling all of Nairobi's eastlands bad gas. Kinoo gives them that sweet balance — just far enough from the chaos, just close enough to the pay cheque.

And let us not pretend the aroma of nyama choma has not played a role in this transformation. The grills are faithful. The pork joints are dependable. From deep-fried indulgence to slow-roasted perfection, meat flows like a constitutional right. Even vegetarians reconsider their life choices at 7pm.

To the east sits the legendary Muthinga meat point, famously known as Kikopey — a trusted pit stop for Eastlanders escaping Nairobi via the highway. It serves meat and reassurance in equal measure.

Kinoo is no longer the dusty punchline of Nairobi. It has been upgraded. It has moisturised. It has been tarmacked. And somewhere between smooth roads, polite touts and sizzling grills, it has become — dare I say it — a little romantic.