When Meru Met Nairobi: The Night Aquadel Turned Pool Tables into Battlefields
Aquadel Pool Tournament Contestants Pose for a group picture. Photo/Felix Kinyua.
Ladies and gentlemen, gather round. I’ve written words for weddings, covered chaos, and even described a goat auction once — but never in my long, word-filled life have I been speechless. Yet this month’s Aquadel Pool Tournament did the impossible: it shut me up.
I tried to write about it the next morning, but even my keyboard refused to cooperate. My mind said “poetic justice,” but my heart whispered, “bro, we got humiliated.”
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The Calm Before the Cue Storm
At exactly 5PM — not a minute later, because Aquadel doesn’t do “African timing” — I strolled into the New Aquadel Auto Spa Carwash at Gakurine, a few meters from the Maua–Isiolo junction. What I found there was less of a carwash and more of a movie set. You’d think Netflix was filming The Fast and the Curious: Meru Drift.
And right there, the mighty Nairobi Elite had already set up camp — sharp, slick, and dangerous in red. Our local heroes from Meru rocked blue, a color we naively thought symbolized victory. Turns out it symbolized tears.
Let’s be honest — the Nairobi crew didn’t just play pool. They came to remind us that physics has levels.
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Now, before I drown you in tournament drama, let’s talk about the other showstopper of the night — the brand-new Aquadel Auto Spa Carwash, which officially opened its doors the same day as the tournament. Yes, you heard right. One month ago, that spot was just dust and dreams — and now? It’s a fully-fledged masterpiece with a bar that flows smoother than Nairobi accents, a kitchen that could make even a vegetarian reconsider life choices, and a pool table so sleek it probably came with its own visa. Building that place in just one month should qualify as an Olympic event. Gakurine had never seen anything like it — history was literally being written in soap, sweat, and style.
And to crown it all, Bloko, ever the calm and composed CEO, took a moment to pass a sincere vote of thanks to everyone who showed up — both the fearless Nairobi crew and the loyal Meru faithful. His gratitude was pure, his tone genuine, and his words a reminder that this wasn’t just a tournament — it was family. Oh, and before I forget — Aquadel water now tastes like Fanta. I don’t know if they added joy or just bottled happiness, but one sip and you understand why it’s called purely refreshing.
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Michael Irungu From Meru takes a shot as fans watch on. Photo/Felix Kinyua.
A Carwash Transformed into Carnival
The scene was madness — the good kind. The kind that smells like grilled meat, spilled Keg, and pure joy. Tents lined with bar taps, the brand-new Aquadel carwash bar flowing like a small river of temptation. By sunset, the place was so alive even the mosquitoes had RSVP’d.
Chairman Alex Muguna, the man who turns ideas into festivals, was already commanding the stage — handing out uniforms, organizing teams, and somehow still finding time to promise another mega event in December. If you’ve ever doubted leadership, watch this man manage sponsors and sober referees at the same time.
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When CEOs Became Fans and Moguls Turned into Groupies
Nairobi Corner was led By Flash who came with an entourage. Photo/Felix Kinyua.
Forget your regular events where people pretend to network — this was a royal gathering disguised as a pool tournament.
There was Nicholus Koome, the quiet petroleum tycoon, sipping in silence like a man who owns half the fuel you burned to get there. Flash arrived, lived up to his name, and handed out those magic cue sticks that had the crowd whispering like it was witchcraft. Munene Muringa aka Nesh from Thorn Expeditions hyped up the crowd and promised “lifelong fun” — and judging from his grin, he’d already started.
And the guest of honor? Senior Counsel Gikunda, who just happens to be the neighbor next door. I guess he heard the bass from his living room and thought, “Might as well make it official.”
Meanwhile, Msafu once again proved he’s a national treasure. The man provided transport for the Meru team, turning logistics into charity. I’m convinced if Msafu ran for president, he’d win — as long as the voters were pool players.
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Event officials consult before beginning of the match. Photo/Felix Kinyua.
Of Music, Meat, and Merciless Matches
The MC of the night, Pablo, kept the crowd laughing like we were at Churchill Live. Collins Kinyua made sure the event ran smoother than a Mercedes engine, and Referee Alex Mutai enforced rules like Moses himself — no shortcuts, no nonsense, no mercy.
The arena smelled of roasted meat and ambition. The music was loud enough to make your heartbeat dance. Spouses of sponsors sat in VIP silence, pretending not to notice the chaos around them. Even the weather behaved. Clearly, the gods of pool were in attendance.
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MC Maina (in Red) emerged the overall winner. He is congratulated by Senior Counsel Gikunda. Photo/Felix Kinyua.
When Blue Dreams Collided with Red Reality
The format was simple — best of three, except for the final, which was best of five. But there was nothing “simple” about what happened next.
Flash, despite having the sticks of legend, bowed out at fourth place — collecting 5K and a lifetime supply of excuses. Geoffrey Nyaoga climbed to third with 10K, grinning like a man who just escaped paying a bar tab.
Then came the grand finale: Michael Irungu of Meru, our homegrown hero, facing off against MC Maina from Kasarani — a man rumored to have just returned from a tournament in Russia. Honestly, I believe it. The man’s precision was unnatural. The crowd gasped, phones flashed, and even the DJ paused mid-beat when Maina sunk the final ball.
Maina walked away with 20,000 shillings and bragging rights that could last him three generations. Irungu pocketed 15,000 and the admiration of every Meru native present.
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The Aftermath: Silence, Smoke, and Satisfaction
By midnight, Makutano was ghostly quiet. The only noise came from happy drunks arguing over whether Nairobi used “imported” cue sticks. Car parks overflowed, laughter echoed, and Aquadel’s name was officially stamped into the region’s social calendar.
I looked around, smiling — partly because I was proud, partly because I couldn’t feel my feet. And as I watched Mr. Muguna promising an even bigger December showdown, I thought, “Lord, give me strength — because next time, I’m betting on Nairobi.”
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Final Thoughts: You Had to Be There
If you missed it, you didn’t just miss a tournament. You missed a cultural phenomenon, a cocktail of competition, comedy, and chaos. And no, words can’t do it justice — not even mine. But check out the photo gallery below and witness the beautiful madness yourself.
Because some nights are written in history — and others, like this one, are carved into the pool table of destiny.
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Author’s Note
Written by Felix Kinyua— Meru’s most talkative scribe, currently recovering from a pool-induced existential crisis. When he’s not writing about legends like Aquadel, he’s probably somewhere arguing about who should’ve won — with a plate of nyama choma in hand.
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