Arnaud Suquet may be a diplomat by contract, but travelling is his true profession. He became a diplomat because he loves to travel. Well, obviously that’s not the only reason. There’s also the education, the political capital, the savoir-faire, and the art of schmoozing between the state of affairs and affairs of the state. “I got attracted by a very romantic vision of what being a diplomat was,” he says. “Travelling in a good suit. Having a Panama hat. Riding in a fancy car.”
Now, as Ambassador of France to Kenya and Somalia, he wears more suits than Panama hats, rides in a fancy car, yes, but mostly to shake hands, kiss babies, and work the room. He won’t be in Kenya for very long, he concedes; this job demands that he changes stations often. Till then, he wants to leave a small piece of himself on the slopes of Mount Kenya, and in so doing, conquer his own personal mountain. “I want to do it with my daughter,” he says. Before that, he has to settle a diplomatic squabble: croissant or mandazi, the most pertinent diplomatic tiff of our time. How does he plead? “Well,” he says, “Why can’t it be both?”
What’s it like for you to be who you are? Being an ambassador means you always represent your country. You don’t totally own yourself. You are on stage for your country. It’s been almost four years in Kenya, and it’s been a great experience. Kenya has never disappointed me.
What’s your most Kenyan habit? [chuckles] I’ve got to run more intensively since I’m in Kenya. I mean, I’m an amateur runner. Now I am a more regular runner, especially in Karura [Forest], early mornings. I also did the City Run recently and had a coffee afterwards. After sports, ni sherehe [chuckles]. I made an effort to learn Kiswahili, you can see, haha! I have been fairly consistent, and it has been fantastic. Now I am trying a bit of sheng too.
Why was it important for you to learn Swahili? First, as a personal challenge, I can still learn at my age. But it’s an eye-opener on a society, and I couldn’t picture myself staying a few years in Kenya without making the effort to understand better. And language is a classical entry point. You get to know the culture. I learned Kiswahili through animal books, Sungura Mjanja [chuckles]. But we quickly transitioned to day-to-day Swahili, mambo ya ground [chuckles]. I especially love the Swahili methalis.
How is it learning languages as an older man? It makes your brain exercise. Learning a language is like doing sports; you need to activate your brain. And I feel even at my age and leadership position, you still have to learn and listen. And it is humbling because when you are learning a language, you are a student making mistakes.
How has fatherhood been for you? I am a father of two teenage girls. It’s nice, but it comes with a series of challenges. You are trying to pass on a few values and principles to the next generation. But in this line of work, we have to travel from one country to another. And every four years, we change our environment. I think sometimes it’s tough on the children; they embrace change but also like stability. But it’s also exposure to different societies; you may not like it as a teenager, but it will build you.
How are you making sure that you are not living your dream at the expense of theirs? It’s not an easy question, but the key is to talk about it. And to listen to their point of view. Parenting is also making decisions while listening to their concerns and aspirations. It’s all a work in progress.
What frightened you most about being a father? You always want to get it right for your children. And at the same time, you need to leave them some freedom to be their own. You want the best for them, and at the same time, you tend to push too much, and that means there will be pushback. You need to give space for your children to develop their own thinking without being overbearing; it’s a challenge.
What do you hope your two daughters never have to forgive you for? I hope they will understand that we have to move from country to country and change friends regularly. Which is important, but at the end of the day, we need this experience all together. We share some emotions and beautiful experiences, and that will create memories for us to cherish. But it’s also a growing path; however difficult it is, you enrich yourself with those experiences. I didn’t want to do what my parents did, so perhaps my children don’t want to do what I am doing, at least for now [chuckles].
You said you move often; how do you allow yourself to get close to people knowing you’re still going to leave?
Everybody has to leave at one point. You don’t do your job efficiently if you don’t understand the context you’re operating in. I spent a lot of time listening and getting to know people, creating contacts because you cannot operate in a vacuum. Then you nurture those contacts, keep track of and check on people, and see how you can support and work with them.
Arnaud Suquet, the Ambassador of France to Kenya and Somalia, at the French Embassy in Nairobi on July 1, 2026.
Photo credit: Francis Nderitu | Nation Media Group
Are you living your dream, or has this career been bigger than that dream?
I didn’t know I would be a diplomat. I had an interest in travel, building curiosity about other societies. At one point, you can stay at school or university; it’s very comfortable, but you need to make a living. So I asked myself: What can sustain this way of life of travelling? And not just as a backpacker or tourist, but you get paid [chuckles]. That’s really the idea of diplomacy. I got attracted by a very romantic vision of what being a diplomat was. Travelling in a good suit. Having a Panama hat. Riding in a fancy car.
That’s not it? Not totally haha! I got to learn that it’s a job you have to work hard to get into. You have to learn and strive to make it. But also, like any profession, you have to be serious and rigorous. Especially when you represent your country. It’s a big responsibility. It’s not just riding in a fancy car with a Panama hat [chuckles].
Yet that job involves many strategic alliances. How do you know at a personal level when someone is real and not just schmoosing?
Diplomacy works on the premise of trust. Trust needs to be built. It’s a bit like tango; you need to be at least two to dance. Building trust is what matters. Sometimes you need to give it a chance. Sometimes you will be disappointed; sometimes you will be rewarded even more than you think.
What do you miss about your younger self? When I used to run or play tennis, I didn’t have cramps [chuckles]. Your body tells you. You get to know that you cannot do the things you used to do. But there are some other things you enjoy at a certain age.
What does running give? It clears your mind. Instead of overthinking things, you listen to your body; it’s an excellent break, and for me sets the tone for a good day.
Does the ambassador have any secret talents? I’m a decent tennis player; I’ve played with Angela Okutoi, your best female player. But, as a balozi, I knew I had to play with her against others. That’s how we won [chuckles]. But I think tomorrow I’m playing, and this is going to be tough; that’s going to be a humbling experience. I’m going to play against your best male player, Ismael. I don’t know if I have talent, though.
Will you let him win? No, I will try to win, but I think it will be an impossible mission, but I’ll do my best.
What do people often misunderstand about you? That I am balozi mchapakazi, but I also like to enjoy life, social things, getting to know people and having a light moment.
If your life were to end in six months, what’s one thing you would do that you’ve been putting off? I’ll fly to Mount Kenya. I did part of it with my daughter, but I think even before I leave Kenya, I need to summit it. It’s a challenge, but it is also particularly scenic and has some spiritual component. I’d like to do it with my daughter.
How do people show you love? Checking on me from time to time to see if I am okay.
I imagine that, as an ambassador, people think you have it figured out, so perhaps they may not be checking on you often. How is your experience? Yes, but I think some people check on you because they see you beside the job or the assignment; that there is a human person. But you are what you are but you are also a human being, and some people see that. And so they’re just not asking how the ambassador is; it’s also ‘How are you?’
How are you? I’m good [chuckles]
What does your buried life look like? I would have been doing sports. Just try to exercise a little bit, you know, in between meetings.
What has success not fixed? Don’t get satisfied. I mean, you can be proud of what you do, but never be too comfortable or satisfied. The idea of change and putting yourself outside of your comfort zone drives you. You can always do better. We all make mistakes. Sometimes I wish I had more time to do more things, but a day is only 24 hours. And it is what it is. But I have to prioritise climbing Mount Kenya.
Sometimes we can trade the immeasurable for the immeasurable. How are you ensuring that, in all this ambition, you are still balancing your life? Sometimes you just need some time for yourself. You have to be cognisant of the fact that, you know, your schedule is what it is. You cannot just close your laptop at 5pm and say, I’m done. But sometimes you need to escape. You need to take some time for yourself to disappear a little bit. I just came back from one week off, and I decided it on last minute. For me, breaks are not improvised, but spontaneous.
When is it enough? If you think that you have enough, change what you’re doing. It’s probably time for you to do something else.
What have you finally come to terms with? Age, maturity, and being an elder gentleman. It comes with a set of challenges, but it also comes with, I hope, some sense of wisdom; to look back at things and not regret my younger years. I am happy where I am now.
What has been the best part about growing older? There are things you don’t really care about anymore. When you’re young, you always need to prove yourself. When you grow older, you have less of this drive to show others. That you can do it. You come to terms with what you’ve become.
What does freedom mean at this stage in your life? Freedom is about picking your own battles and not fighting on behalf of others. That’s real freedom for me.
If you’re mentoring a younger self, what’s the one thing you’ll tell him? When you want something, don’t compromise. It may take a longer path, but don’t settle for something you don’t want. Just be clear and then push for it. Accept failure or the fact that you won’t necessarily get there in the sort of time or in the path you wanted to take, but don’t compromise on what you believe in and your objective. It will take some time, but eventually you’ll get there.
Who do you know that I should know? Coster Ojwang. I like his music, and this industry is still nascent, but I hope we get to a space where doing art is not a side hustle, but a profession.
What’s the soundtrack of this moment? “Finale” by Bien and Ali Kiba, which I must say, is very timely, given the current situation in France. One of the semifinals will be on Bastille Day, which is our national day, on July 14. Crossing fingers, France gets to the semi-finals. That will be fantastic, no? We need to do a watch party that day, so cheer for France now, for Mbappé, Olisse, Dembélé [chuckles].
Maybe, but this interview was a ruse so you could settle this debate: Croissant or Mandazi? Croissant na mandazi [chuckles].
