The marketplace internet: How Kenya's digital spaces are changing

Spend a few minutes on TikTok and you'll quickly notice that entertainment is often only the opening act.

A dance challenge morphs into a plea for gifts during a livestream. A comedy skit is followed by a request to "support the creator." A viral trend becomes an opportunity to sell products or drive followers to another platform. Social media has evolved far beyond sharing moments with friends; increasingly, it is where people market themselves, build businesses, seek financial support and, at times, exploit unsuspecting users.

Other platforms have undergone similar transformations. Telegram, originally promoted as a privacy-focused messaging app, has over the years drawn scrutiny from researchers and law enforcement agencies for hosting scam networks, illicit marketplaces and other criminal activity alongside millions of legitimate communities. Its founder, Pavel Durov, has also faced legal scrutiny in France over allegations related to criminal activity facilitated on the platform—claims he has denied—bringing renewed attention to the challenge of moderating large digital platforms. Meanwhile, platforms such as OnlyFans continue to wrestle with public perceptions that often overshadow their broader positioning as creator economy platforms. Research has also documented the growing use of LinkedIn by scammers impersonating recruiters, business executives and investors, prompting the company to strengthen its fraud detection systems and advise members to report requests involving money or suspicious investment opportunities.

If every platform develops its own culture, perhaps it was only a matter of time before even spaces built for professional networking began to experience the same erosion of boundaries.

That is what one Nairobi-based architect discovered recently.

Within a matter of days, Mercy Ngaira's LinkedIn profile attracted an unusual surge in connection requests. At first glance, they appeared ordinary enough. One came from an insurance adviser. Another from a financial planner. Several others introduced themselves as professionals looking to expand their networks.

She ignored most of them.

Then came a request from another architect.

That one felt different. LinkedIn is, after all, designed to help professionals connect with colleagues, collaborators and peers within their industries. Accepting the invitation seemed entirely in keeping with the platform's purpose.

The conversation began politely before taking an unexpected turn.

The fellow architect spoke about the financial challenges facing professionals in the industry, particularly delayed client payments and inconsistent work, before asking whether she could lend him money.

"I thought I was making a professional connection," she recalled. "Instead, I found myself being asked for financial help by someone I'd never met."

It is one experience, but hardly an isolated frustration.

Across online discussion forums, professionals from around the world increasingly complain that connection requests are often followed almost immediately by sales pitches for insurance policies, investment products, coaching programmes or multi-level marketing schemes. Others describe conversations that quickly shift from networking to requests for WhatsApp numbers, cryptocurrency investments or outright financial assistance. LinkedIn itself cautions users against scams involving fake recruiters, fraudulent investment opportunities and anyone requesting money through the platform.

The phenomenon raises a broader question: are Kenyans—and indeed internet users more generally—changing the unwritten rules that once defined different digital spaces?

For years, each platform carried its own etiquette.

Facebook connected friends and family. Instagram celebrated visual storytelling. X became a forum for public debate. LinkedIn occupied the professional corner of the internet, where users discussed careers, celebrated promotions, recruited talent and exchanged industry insights.

Today, those distinctions appear increasingly blurred.

WhatsApp groups created for residents' associations or former classmates often become marketplaces for everything from furniture and household goods to insurance products and investment opportunities. Community Facebook groups that once revolved around neighbourhood discussions now feature a steady stream of advertisements, fundraising appeals and promotional posts. Professional networking sites are increasingly viewed as fertile ground for prospecting clients rather than simply building relationships.

None of these activities are inherently inappropriate.

Insurance advisers have every right to seek clients. Financial planners rely on professional networks to grow their businesses. Entrepreneurs use social media to reach customers. Freelancers build careers through online visibility.

The question is less about what people are doing than how they are doing it.

There is a difference between introducing oneself transparently as someone offering professional services and disguising a sales pitch as a networking request. There is a distinction between building rapport before discussing business and sending a lengthy promotional message moments after a connection is accepted. And there is an even wider gulf between professional networking and asking a stranger for financial assistance simply because they work in the same industry.

Those distinctions form the unwritten code of digital etiquette—a code that many users now believe is under strain.

Part of the shift may reflect broader economic realities.

Kenya's difficult economic climate has pushed many people to diversify their income streams, pursue freelance work, market side hustles and search relentlessly for new clients. Social media offers immediate access to potential customers and professional contacts at little or no cost. In such an environment, every connection can begin to resemble a business opportunity.

Digital platforms themselves have encouraged this evolution. Features designed to support creators, influencers, consultants and entrepreneurs increasingly reward visibility, personal branding and constant engagement. The line between networking and marketing has become progressively thinner.

Yet there remains an expectation—particularly on platforms associated with professional interactions—that transparency and context should matter.

Networking has traditionally been about cultivating relationships that may eventually lead to opportunities. Solicitation, by contrast, often prioritises the transaction over the relationship.

For many users, the difference is obvious.

A recruiter reaching out about a job opportunity fits the culture of a professional networking platform. An architect connecting to discuss industry trends feels natural. An accountant introducing tax advisory services after establishing common ground is unlikely to raise eyebrows.

A stranger requesting money minutes after connecting is something else entirely.

Whether this represents declining online etiquette or simply the next stage in the evolution of social media is open to debate.

Digital platforms have always reflected human behaviour more than they have shaped it. As economic pressures intensify and online interactions increasingly become pathways to customers, clients, donations or financial assistance, users are inevitably rewriting the rules of engagement.

The challenge is that those rules have never been formally written in the first place.

Perhaps that explains why conversations about digital etiquette are becoming more common. Not because selling products, promoting services or seeking opportunities is wrong, but because many users still expect platforms to retain the culture that made them valuable in the first place.

In an online world where almost every notification carries the possibility of a pitch, a promotion or a plea, the simple act of accepting a connection request is no longer quite as straightforward as it once was.