Dr. Chris Wachira is the latest “Kenyans abroad” darling to hit the headlines, and the PR machine is working overtime. She’s opened the Karibu Wine Lounge in Alameda, California, marking it as the first Black woman-owned winery tasting room in the county. We’re all supposed to stand up and clap because a Kenyan-American is “changing the face” of a 0.1% industry. But let’s be real: this isn’t a victory for the people in the streets of Nairobi or the farmers in Central. This is a victory for the brain drain, repackaged as a “wine safari” for the American elite.

The branding is where the cynicism really kicks in. A “wine safari”? It’s the ultimate “Out of Africa” starter pack. We’ve got rhinos on Cabernet and lions on sparkling wine. It’s funny how when you’re actually in Kenya, a safari is a dusty, overpriced headache designed for foreigners, but once you’re in California, it’s a “curated experience.” Using the “Big Five” to sell grapes grown in Napa and Paso Robles is the height of aesthetic tourism. It’s selling a version of Kenya that only exists in the minds of people who think we all live in National Parks.

Dr. Wachira talks about “Karibu” meaning welcome, but who exactly is being welcomed? The lounge is a “safe space” for folks in Alameda who want to feel diverse while sipping something with a Swahili name. While she’s pairing Napa grapes with her mother’s lamb stew in a temperature-controlled room in California, most people back home are just trying to figure out if they can afford the charcoal to cook their own dinner. It’s easy to talk about inclusivity when your zip code is one of the wealthiest in the world and you’re moonlighting from a full-time gig at Stanford Healthcare.

This isn’t a “started from the bottom” story; it’s an elite-tier play. She mentions an incubator program to help others enter the industry, which sounds lovely on paper, but it’s mentorship for the Diaspora, by the Diaspora. It does nothing for the local entrepreneur struggling against a failing economy. Compare this high-society wine lounge to someone like Francis Muiruri, the Digital Poultry King, who actually stayed on the ground in Juja to build something tangible. One is building a business in the actual dirt of this country; the other is selling a “vibe” to Californians who want to feel “woke.”

At the end of the day, we’ll see these headlines and feel a fleeting sense of “Kenya to the World” pride, but it’s hollow. It’s just another example of our best minds leaving and then selling our culture back to the West at a markup. We export the talent, we export the names, and we get nothing back but a website link and a “congratulations” post. It’s not a cultural bridge; it’s a gift shop. If you want a real taste of Kenya, you won’t find it in a bottle of “Rhino” Cabernet in Alameda.