Kenya Chess Rankings Explained: What They Mean and How They Work
May 29, 2026
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I went into the Giant Chess Tournament at Galleria Mall here in Nairobi expecting chess.
What I got was chess mixed with athletics, adrenaline, strategy, panic, socializing, and somehow karaoke at the end of it all.
And honestly?
I loved every second of it.
First of all, the setup itself was beautiful. The environment was welcoming, the organizers were warm, interactive, and passionate about the event. You could tell this was something they genuinely cared about.
I got to meet Dr. Philip from Kenya Chess Hub, a really insightful and humble guy, and Allan too, who was incredibly interactive and welcoming throughout the event.
Before the games even began, we were already solving puzzles, talking chess, laughing, and analysing positions. It already felt less like “just a tournament” and more like a chess experience.
And then there was Mr. Chris Wanjiru.
Now let me be honest.
Sometimes in chess, you look at someone and your instincts quietly tell you:
“This one is dangerous.”
That was Chris.
Now yes, I’ve crossed 2100 on Chess.com. But chess humbles you very quickly because no matter how strong you become, there is always someone out there who sees the board differently.
We played a few casual games before the tournament started. We traded wins back and forth. Sicilians. Tactical positions. Tension everywhere.
So naturally, I started preparing psychologically.
I already knew one thing:
“I am NOT entering his favourite Sicilian lines.”
I had plans.
Grand Prix ideas.
Dubious attacking intentions.
Hope 😭
Unfortunately, Chris also had eyes.
He saw through most of my nonsense.
But we’ll get him next time.
Now here’s where things became truly chaotic.
Three minutes on the clock.
Three.
MINUTES.
And not normal chess pieces.
GIANT pieces.
Listen carefully. Giant chess is not regular blitz chess.
This is cardio with tactics.
If your rook falls over, congratulations. You now have a construction project mid game while your clock is bleeding away 😭
If your piece is on H8 and the clock is on the opposite side, you are suddenly an athlete.
You move.
You sprint.
You hit the clock.
You sprint back.
So naturally, everyone started developing survival instincts.
And I discovered something beautiful.
Use your opponent’s thinking time.
The moment my opponent touched a pawn to play e4, I was already emotionally prepared to respond with e5 before the pawn even landed on the square.
They place the pawn.
I instantly move.
They run to the clock.
I’m already sprinting beside them.
At one point it genuinely felt less like chess and more like synchronized warfare 😂
Knight to f3?
Good.
My knight was already emotionally halfway to f6 before they finished moving.
And trust me, once adrenaline kicks in, your body starts pre-moving before your brain fully catches up.
It was glorious chaos.
My first game was against Serena, who eventually emerged as the best lady in the tournament. Strong player. Composed under pressure too, which matters massively in blitz.
And that’s another thing giant chess teaches you.
You cannot freeze.
In normal chess, hesitation costs seconds.
In giant chess, hesitation costs oxygen.
Now eventually I met Chris during the actual tournament.
And unfortunately for me, I had white.
I was secretly hoping to get black because my Petrov structures are solid and practical under time pressure.
But life had other plans.
I tried being creative.
Aggressive.
Dubious.
Optimistic.
Chris calmly exposed all of it.
That man was seeing tactics from another dimension 😭
But honestly, that’s part of why events like this matter.
You learn.
You adapt.
You meet stronger players.
You realize chess still has layers waiting for you.
And somehow, despite the losses, the running, the panic, and the collapsing giant pieces, I walked away exhausted and genuinely happy.
Not because of prize money.
Of course, the 20,000 KES prize for first place was certainly motivating.
But because chess events are bigger than trophies.
I met good people.
Made connections.
Marketed my art.
Talked mindset.
Shared ideas.
Laughed with strangers.
That matters.
And somehow after all that running around giant rooks and queens, we ended the evening with karaoke.
No judgment.
Just singing.
And surprisingly, I think my vocals levelled up too 😂
So yes, it was an incredible weekend.
I managed to finish second place overall, which I’m proud of, even though Dr. Philip himself also contributed to ruining my perfect comeback attempt by defeating me in one of the rounds.
Still recovering emotionally.
But honestly?
That’s what makes chess beautiful.
You can lose games and still leave fulfilled.
You can get outplayed and still leave inspired.
You can fail tactically and still win socially.
So next time Kenya Chess Hub organizes one of these events, show up.
Seriously.
Not just for the competition.
Not just for the prize fund.
But for the experience.
And next time, apparently the organizers might make the pieces heavier.
Which means we may need five minutes on the clock instead of three.
Because at that point we are no longer just calculating variations.
We are training for the Olympics 😂
Huge respect to Kenya Chess Hub, Dr. Philip, Alan, Chris Wanjiru, Serena, and everyone who showed up to make the event memorable.
Amazing work partnering with Galleria Mall.
I’ll definitely be back.
And next time, Chris…
we are avoiding your Sicilian.
