If it weren't for the fact that one, and/or one, out of a thousand then end badly, one would be tempted to pull one's hair out and then let go of a laugh as bitter and disconsolate as it is liberating.
But the question of ‘volunteers in the firing line’ in Kenya and ‘social influencers’ is a recurring and visible one for those of us who look after Italians in this country. And it makes one angry above all.
The latest incident, in recent days, as usual, ended up on social media before it did at a consulate or appropriate local offices, in the presence of a lawyer as it should be and as often happens in other parts of the world (but also in Kenya, if you leave out Malindi and Watamu...).

After the kidnapping of Silvia Romano in (remember?), an enthusiastic young woman sent to the wilderness in 2018 by a rogue non-profit organisation in the middle of nowhere in the Malindi hinterland, we managed to launch an information campaign stating that a volunteer or alleged volunteer should inform themselves before leaving for Kenya, possibly take a course, as real aid workers do, and once there, present themselves to our authorities, after obviously having reported their presence on the Farnesina's ‘Where we are in the world’ portal and after having taken other precautions. 
Many organisations, registered in Italy or Kenya or on the planet Faidatè, have lined up, registered with COIKE (the Committee of Italian NGOs in Kenya), presented themselves to the consulate or made themselves known at the embassy. 
Others asked us for information, for meetings, they tried to understand, they sought advice from law firms that deal with these dynamics, and so on.
Unfortunately, it didn't last long. 
La Romano, once she was freed in Somalia, became more radical and her peers, who had once been running around with beach boys and poor but smiling children, returned to their usual generous and self-indulgent recklessness, and even more ‘social’.
Even worse, so did many volunteer organisations.

Let's go back to the recent story: an aspiring social media TikToker who travels the world raising funds for noble causes, or so he says (remember that TikTok, like YouTube, doesn't care where the money goes, it keeps its percentage and pays us taxes) is stopped by the police with his car parked in a no-parking zone.
Evidently he doesn't know Kenyan law, which is based on British common law. In Kenya you don't pay the fine, either at the time, or through a report and payment slip as in Italy, for example.
The only conciliation (especially in tourist destinations) is the ‘bribe’ that allows those who have done something stupid, perhaps following the locals who have done the same thing (like going on a motorbike with 4 people without a helmet or smoking a joint), to get away with it. 
For many Westerners, corruption is an added value, and over the years this has convinced even the representatives of local institutions that, after all, it suits both the corrupted and the corrupter, or rather both the extortioner and the extorted. Clearly this isn't always the case and situations must be analysed on a case-by-case basis. But it's more than obvious that if there were no corrupters, there would be no corrupted, not even in Africa.
Our influencer, as good as bread and as ignorant as a chapati, for an unquestionable matter of principle, refuses to give the requested ‘oom-pah-pah’ donation, probably objecting with the useless ‘that's how it is’ and exhibiting that mastery of English that often characterises Italians on holiday in Kenya.
The norm is to then go to the police station, fill out the report (pole pole, obviously) and then go to court to answer for the offence and pay the fine.

Important: those who know the law know that they can make as many phone calls as they want. 
The first call should be to a lawyer, for example, who, if the court date is the next day, will know how to arrange bail so that the defendant doesn't have to spend the night in police custody, or even at the Italian consulate (there is an emergency number that everyone should carry with them, given that, as mentioned above, a volunteer should already have presented himself).
In past years, this good practice has saved many fellow Italians: from the fearless madman who decided to cross the Tsavo savannah on foot, to the two girls from good families looking for thrills who took a taxi at night to go from Malindi to Lamu... just to name two. 
No, our tiktoker, the custodian of genuine goodness, is not calling anyone who can assist him and explain exactly where he is and why. 
He feels so threatened that instead of dialling a useful number on his mobile phone, he's taken a video selfie to say that he's ‘under arrest’ (in reality he is being held pending the report and his court appearance) because he didn't want to give in to corruption (in reality he parked in a no-parking zone, but ‘everyone does it’, why don't I come here to help you too?).
Finally, he warns that even if it's not a dark, closed cell but a corridor with large windows without glass overlooking a courtyard, he admits that there is an unbearable stench. Oh yes, because when you come into contact with real African life, and not just with children under a palm tree, schoolgirls and friends on the beach, the ‘everyone's like that’ no longer presupposes so much equality and solidarity.

How does this story end? 
Like so many others we have witnessed, virtually or in person, over thirty years of chronicles of Italians in this country. 
The chapataro tiktoker was taken to court, paid the fine and went back to doing good damage. 
Very small stuff, mind you, but when some imitator more vulgar, naive or unfortunate than him ends up in real trouble, we can expect praise and chorus among the scandalised, invective against our institutions and racism, as already appears from the comments on our hero's video selfie.
We're sure that the hero will take advantage of the mishap to embroider more lace in the shape of the TikTok logo. Continuing to photograph children (without knowing that he would need permission from the parents or the school, the children's home or whatever else can denounce him), to tell a wrong story about Africa and above all, and this is the worst thing, without having understood a beloved Kenyan stump, its rules, how a compatriot who wants to get in touch ‘with them’ should protect himself and behave but already has trouble being in touch with himself, if there's no wi-fi.

P.S. We have deliberately omitted the name and surname of the protagonist. First of all for privacy reasons, but above all to spare him the publicity he has already tried to get, taking advantage of the unpleasant situation.