Discover Naico Gardens: A serene 1.4-acre retreat in Muthaiga

You could easily drive past Naico Gardens without a second glance, I know I have, more times than I care to admit.

Tucked just off Price Road, along the service lane behind Muthaiga Square on Thika Road Superhighway, it hides in plain sight behind a modest grey gate.

Behind that gate stands a quiet villa that reveals little, giving no hint of the green, peaceful oasis beyond. But once you step inside, the chaos of Nairobi slips away, replaced by the gentle sound of fountains and clean stone paths bordered by meticulously trimmed grass, each patch manicured like a garden box. It’s the kind of calm that feels almost impossible this close to the city.

From the moment you enter, a courteous guard welcomes you amid neatly kept hedges lining the gate. A cobblestone path leads the way, with cars parked quietly beneath leafy trees.

At first glance, it feels more like a private home or maybe a guesthouse than a public venue. But ask the guard if you’re in the right place, and he’ll smile knowingly. “Karibu. Walk straight. You’ll see.”

And just like that, the city noise fades. Behind that unassuming facade lies one of Nairobi’s most charming hidden gems, a 1.4-acre garden retreat that perfectly balances soulfulness, hospitality, and peace in a way few places in the city can match.

The slow reveal

When you first step into the compound, it doesn’t immediately announce itself as a garden. Instead, you enter a warm, homely reception inside a quiet villa. The floors, a blend of polished wood and cool stone, echo softly underfoot.

Neutral-toned artwork adorns warmly lit walls, and the air carries a subtle fragrance somewhere between incense and oud, delicate yet grounding. It is quiet. No music, no chatter. Just stillness. You half-expect someone to bring you a cup of tea, and someone does.

On that calm Friday afternoon, a tall, middle-aged waiter, Bradley, appeared, smiling warmly. In his hands was a small white cup of steaming Arabic coffee, paired with a saucer holding seven soft, sticky dates.

“Welcome to Naico Gardens Hotel. We’re so pleased to have you here,” he said gently as he placed the items on the low dining table.

“I’ll be your server today. This little gem hopes to ease your mind and lift your mood while you’re here, but first, enjoy this complimentary coffee and date.”

His tone was welcoming, almost ceremonial, lending the gesture a quiet, deliberate hospitality that made me slow down.

I took a sip of the Arabian coffee. It was rich and earthy, with warm spices, cardamom, and maybe a hint of clove. Bitter, yet smooth. The date was syrupy, almost caramel-like, lingering gently on the tongue.

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I followed it with another sip of the coffee, and the sweetness tempered the bitterness, turning the welcome drink into a soothing ritual far more than a simple welcome drink.

“The date balances the bitterness,” Bradley offered with a small nod, as though he had seen this reaction before. “Enjoy, as I take your order.”

The menu: Familiar food, done thoughtfully

He handed me the menu, a soft, brown leather-bound menu, inviting a leisurely perusal. As I flipped it open, a smaller yellow card slipped out: the children’s menu.

Thoughtful, simple, and cheerfully designed, it listed child-friendly meals like pancakes, scrambled eggs, mini burgers, and masala chips, each paired with options for fresh juice, smoothie or juice box, all under Sh700. It made me smile, not just because it was cute, but because it showed the kind of care that thinks of everyone who walks through these doors.

Naico’s menu was warm and comforting, featuring favourites from wraps, pastas, fish curry, fried chicken, steak, chips, burgers, sandwiches, pizzas, tacos, to nyama choma.

I chose the Chicken Alfredo pasta, priced at Sh1,200, and a mojito from the drinks list; iced teas, juices, lemonades, mocktails, shakes, and smoothies beckoned, but the mojito’s intriguing green punch caught my eye.

‘Zee’ Grand tour

As I waited for my food to be prepared, meals here are made fresh to order, Bradley assured me it would take about 15 to 20 minutes. That felt just right. Not rushed. Not too long. Just enough time to slow down, explore, and sink into the calm.

The soft air carried faint whispers of oud and floral notes. Warm light filtered through the windows, illuminating the wooden floor. Outside, a fountain murmured, children’s laughter floated on the breeze, and inside, intentional stillness enveloped the space.

The thoughtfully spaced tables, layered textures, and warm neutral palette created a soothing environment designed not just for the eyes but for the spirit.

Let me take you around.

At the entrance, just as you walk into the reception area, I noticed something practical yet surprisingly thoughtful: Safaricom-branded power banks. Neatly arranged at the counter, they are free for guests to borrow.

Just past reception, Abuab Abdi, the hotel’s Quality Assurance manager, pointed out three softly lit rooms to the left.

These, he explained, serve a dual purpose: prayer rooms for guests needing a quiet moment of reflection, or VIP spaces for those seeking privacy during their meal.

Each room is simple but inviting, with deep red carpeting, floor cushions, and small pillows arranged neatly around the edges. A low cabinet sits in the corner, a place to stow away your bag, shoes, or anything else that might weigh you down.

One of the three rooms featured a chandelier and wooden chairs fitted with black floral cushions. It shared the same seating style as the final room but was larger, ideal for private meetings or intimate dining.

From there, we stepped outside to the garden.

The Garden

From the villa, a patio balcony stretches out, a breezy extension of the space, and is set with several dining tables and a large communal couch around a central table, perfect for groups.

Between the tables, lush potted plants act as natural partitions, offering just enough privacy without blocking the view.

“There’s a lot of intention in how they spaced everything,” Abuab pointed out as we walked through. “See the plants between the tables? It makes it feel like your own little corner instead of putting wooden separators. We really value nature here.”

Along the ceiling’s edge, string lights run all around the patio, casting a warm, golden glow, promising a magical glow after sunset. Just past the patio railing, a low fence is wrapped in greenery and has more plants softening the transition to the garden.

Stone steps lead you gently down to the first Manicured lawn, where stone pathways are outlined by subtle garden lights and seating arrangements, all carefully designed to feel like a personal retreat.

Scattered along the garden’s edge are three or four white tables, each with sturdy wooden tops and matching chairs. To the left, the kitchen and conference hall are tucked away, functional but still part of the overall flow, with a green hedge.

The magic fountain and the gazebo

At the garden’s heart stands the waterfall, surrounded by flowers, and cascading water adds a soft rhythm. Nearby, mismatched dining tables created a cosy charm.

Then came my favourite part: three gazebo-style tents, draped with flowing curtains and furnished with cushioned chairs, offered privacy while connecting guests with the garden’s serenity.

Beyond, the soft sounds of laughter drifted from the children’s play area.

The playground

The children’s section is one of the best-planned in Nairobi, not just a token corner with a plastic slide, but a full-fledged play zone designed with intention and care.

I watched as children rode tiny quad bikes across a sectioned-off cobble-paved area, safely separated from the grassy lawn. Nearby, others bounced gleefully inside bouncing castles, swung high into the air, or ran barefoot through the grass, their laughter rising above the hum of conversation. They looked genuinely happy and free.

For Sh700, parents can pay for unlimited access to the play area. The three shiny, well-kept quad bikes go for Sh400 per 15-minute ride, while a smaller car rental is Sh300 for the same duration. There were climbing frames, wide slides, and even remote-controlled quad bikes buzzing past tiny feet.

Around the edges, large tents offer shade for parents to sit and unwind, still within view of the playground. Others sat on benches within the play area, while a nearby gazebo offered privacy for parents who wanted to relax while keeping an eye on their children.

“Here, staff are stationed throughout, so that parents are not distracted; they can enjoy the peace, let their children be as they quietly watch, “ Abuab said. “Our garden space creates a rare kind of peace: knowing your child is safe while you exhale and bond with friends and family.”

Before my food arrived, I chatted with one parent.

“There are a lot of places where children are treated like a nuisance,” said Najma Naima, a mother of two from Eastleigh. “Here, they’re part of the experience. I like coming here because I feel safe, it is also clean, everything is well maintained, and my children are supervised, so for a moment I can actually relax.”

Najma said she sometimes comes with friends from Kilimani and Parklands, not just to escape Nairobi’s noise, but to bond and give their children the freedom to play in a space welcoming to both adults and kids alike.

The food: Let's dig in

The food did not keep us waiting; it was already plated and ready when we arrived. As soon as we settled, it was brought straight to the table, still warm. The aroma hit me immediately: rich buttery cream, garlic, grilled chicken, and a faint sweetness from herbs I couldn’t quite place. It was the kind of scent that clings to your nose and makes you impatient to dig in.

My Chicken Alfredo arrived on a deep, wide plate, with pasta twirled into a generous mound coated in a glossy, rich white sauce that looked both silky and full of flavour. The chicken strips on top were golden at the edges and served generously with mushrooms. A light sprinkle of herbs and a dusting of Parmesan finished the dish, simple but deliberately arranged.

Abuab glanced over. “Is this cheat day or have you given up?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at the portion size. I grinned. “This is joy I can’t wait to experience, my mouth is watering."

The first bite revealed perfectly cooked pasta, soft but with just the right resistance, showing it wasn’t overdone. The sauce was luscious, coating my mouth and inviting me to close my eyes a little longer.

Real garlic shone through, not the jarred kind, and the sharp, salty Parmesan balanced the creamy richness. The chicken was tender, smoky, and well-marinated—no dryness or stringiness. Each bite was deeply satisfying and grounding.

Beside the plate sat my green punch mojito, already stealing the spotlight.

Served tall and vivid, almost neon green, it held muddled mint leaves, crushed ice, and a lime wedge perched on the rim. It smelled fresh and citrusy with hints of sugarcane, lime, and mint crushed just before serving.

The first sip was cool and lightly fizzy, sweet but not overpowering. The mint lingered on my tongue, while the lime added a tang that cut through the Alfredo’s richness.

“I’d say it’s worth every coin,” I replied, already going in for another forkful of pasta.

Around us, laughter drifted in from the kids’ play area and soft conversations floated from the table nearby, but the birds chirping and the waterfall stood out.

The plates were large, the food generous, and the atmosphere invited you to slow down and truly savour every bite. It wasn’t just eating, it was indulging in the best way possible.

The conference and events

After that meal, I leaned back in my seat, happily full, sipping the last of my mojito. The garden had quieted now, the lunch crowd settling into slower conversations.

We chatted a bit with Abuab, who sat across from me, still half-lost in our food coma, when he leaned in slightly.

“You know,” he said, “This place isn’t just for families or couples. All kinds of people come here, solo guests, groups, even older folks who just want some quiet. It’s welcoming, regardless of who you are. We also have a conference area.”

It was just beside the villa, tucked neatly yet still part of the overall flow of the space.

The structure was clean and modern, softened by garden elements. We took some stairs, and as he opened the door inside, the space opened into a hall that could easily transform depending on the need.

I could picture it: a wedding reception, or a formal boardroom setup with an 85-inch TV for presentations, speakers, mixers, a stage, and tables and chairs.

“We host all kinds of events here,” Abuab explained. “Corporate trainings, weddings, chamas, birthday parties, we have even done a few kids' events and women empowerment forums. Everything is flexible, also if you want decor, they’ll handle it at a fee. Of course.”

The attention to detail didn’t end with the event space. When I asked to use the washroom, I was surprised. It was spotless, well-lit, with clean tiles, large, well-positioned mirrors, and yes, a bidet, which is rare even in some of Nairobi’s top-tier restaurants.

It’s the kind of thoughtful touch you don’t expect but instantly appreciate, like anticipating your comfort before you even ask.

Hosting events

Back outside, the vibe had shifted slightly as the sun began to set. The atmosphere was calmer, less buzzing.

A group gathered by the fountain, likely setting up for a late afternoon event, and a few kids moved to the gazebo tents. Parents were deep in conversation under the garden umbrellas.

Dessert and yummy treats

We stepped back onto the patio, but the breeze had picked up, and it was growing dark and chilly. So, we moved inside the villa, where a fire was already lit. The soft crackle of burning firewood welcomed us, casting a warm amber glow that instantly made the space feel more intimate.

I settled into a cushioned seat and scanned the menu once more. That’s when I noticed something unfamiliar: Basbousa. The name piqued my curiosity, so I decided to try it, along with a cappuccino.

The dessert arrived warm in a shallow dish, its surface gleaming with a caramel glaze and finished with a light sprinkle of shredded coconut. The first bite was soft and milky, the grainy semolina dissolving gently on my tongue. Layers of caramel, desiccated coconut, and condensed milk gave it a richness that felt balanced, not heavy.

The first bite was soft and milky, the grainy semolina dissolving gently on my tongue. Layers of caramel, desiccated coconut, and condensed milk gave it a richness that felt balanced rather than heavy.

The coconut added a subtle chew and nuttiness that tied everything together beautifully. It was indulgent yet comforting, familiar in spirit but special enough to stand out.

The basbousa was priced at Sh400, while the cappuccino, smooth, lightly foamy, and perfectly warm, cost Sh250.

We stayed a little longer, chatting softly in the cosy warmth of the villa. Then a friend arrived to pick me up as we made our way out, and I noticed again just how well thought-out the space was.

The entire parking area was paved with cabro, neat and clean. Along the fence and beneath it, greenery, small light fixtures, and flowers were woven into the structure, tiny bursts of colour that framed the exit with the same care as the entrance.

Before I left, Abuab shared something that made it all make sense.

“The place only opened this year, February 2025, ” he said. “We are still new. But we’ve put our heart into it, as you can see.”

You could feel it in the food, the layout, the details, and the service. It wasn’t just another restaurant opening its doors. It was a place designed to grow into something special.

This was not just a restaurant. It was a venue, a space adapted to the needs of the people who came through. “We also host events; weddings, birthday parties, conferences... we are a beautiful escape from the chaos,” Abuab said.

Whether here for a quiet lunch, a business meeting, a child’s birthday party, or something as monumental as a wedding, it held space for you. And somehow, it still felt like the kind of place you’d want to return to, just to breathe, to pause, to have a moment.