Airplane mode for scattered souls
The Serenity Social Club has nailed the blueprint for connecting by disconnecting in a bespoke little world free from WiFi.
Brenda Holo in Nairobi
At 10am in Karen, Nairobi, on the last Saturday of the month, three dozen people hand over their phones. It’s the first rule of the Serenity Social Club’s Disconnect event – a whole day of no screens or digital notifications. In their place are yoga, pottery, crocheting, conversations with strangers – or even just sleeping on the grass.
Wanjiru Wanjohi created Disconnect in March 2025 when she was searching for community and a refuge from digital fatigue. “I felt like I didn’t have a place to connect with people on a genuine level,” she says.
November’s event was at Afrika House, a three-storey art gallery surrounded by a garden. The day began with yoga led by Victor Alfayo. “You get older gracefully,” he told the group. “Yoga teaches you how to ground yourself – how to see the world when it is chaotic.”
After the stretches it was solo time, during which participants scattered into the garden to crochet and journal. One simply napped on the grass.
Tech worker Marvin Denis had felt mild panic when handing over his phone. Then, something shifted. “Now I have a new definition of what disconnecting means,” he said later in the day. “It’s being with oneself, reconnecting with your inner child and connecting with other souls.”
Alice Kimani discovered the event through TikTok. Her remote work as a programme manager had shrunk her social life into a Zoom window. “I was looking for an event where I can refresh away from my phone and computer and meet people,” she said.
In a world in which productivity is idolised, there was something radical about doing absolutely nothing – and not apologising for it.
Nancy Maina lives in Meru, an upcountry town 220km away. “When I’m in Meru, I feel in touch with myself, but when I come to Nairobi, I don’t know what happens,” she said, adding that something about the city throws her off. Heads around the circle nodded: everyone seemed to recognise the feeling. Maina came to the event to do her crocheting, which anchors her.
Confessions in clay
After solo time, ceramicist Lorine Otieno led a pottery session, guiding fingers into clay and reminding the group to trust the process and not rush to the final product. “Clay demands you slow down and be delicate with it.”
As bowls took shape, conversation loosened. One participant spoke about choosing a child-free life; another about a painful decision from years earlier. The room felt unusually safe: strangers willing to listen without distraction. By late afternoon, the workshop had shifted into a group dialogue about burnout, healing, and finding gentler ways to live in Nairobi.
“It was a 10 out of 10 experience. I feel revamped, rejuvenated,” said Denis as the phones were eventually returned.
For founder Wanjohi, who once measured weekends by how many bottles could be emptied, watching strangers bond over clay and crochet feels like evidence that joy can be reimagined. “With Nairobi’s culture, you can get drowned so fast,” she said. Her dream is to grow the community and eventually start a support group for people struggling with alcohol.
Thank you
Such a great initiative!