My nickname was ‘karedio’

Where are you from ?

I was born in Gatundu South in Kiambu County.

No, not that. This interview was to take place at 10.30am, it is now 12.30pm...we have the right to know where you have been, don’t you think?

Oh...ho...I’m from Laugh Industry offices in Lavington. Laugh Industry is the entertainment company run by Churchill Ndambuki. We did some work together at the Kids Festival in Ruaraka about two weeks ago. So I went to sign and pick one or two documents...cheques really. I told you I’d be late didn’t I?

Talking about cheques, how is it to work as gospel artiste, specifically as a vernacular artiste?

I make money. My diary is always full. When I get out of this function, I get into the next. This is the dream of all artistes. If I say I don’t make money, I’d be lying. And I’m in music, nothing else.

Okay. Your childhood. How was it, school and all...?

Kiambu is full of hills, valleys, rivers and coffee. Then lots of coffee pickers. My primary school was Muthurumbi Primary while secondary was Ituro High School. The same school as Moses Kuria.

Moses Kuria the controversial Gatundu South MP...what was he like as as a a young man?

He was talkative, funny and brilliant. But he was also rough.

As a boy growing up in Kiambu, what were your dreams?

I liked three things. I wanted to be a Catholic father, a lawyer, or a musician.

Meaning right now you are living one of your dreams...

Actually two. Not one. I’m actually a holder of higher diploma in Theology from Presbyterian University and my music is gospel music as a ministry. Maybe I will study law one day. Who knows.

How did your career in music start?

When I was young, about eight or nine years, I was too young to pick coffee but was allowed at the farm. So what I did was to get a raised ground, and sing to those who were picking coffee down below. They nicknamed me ‘karedio’. And soon, in school, I was the one being asked to do the talking - you know, riddles, ‘vitendawili’ and stories kind. In high school, I got into drama, acting. And a bit of singing.

How did it go after high school?

I worked as a posho mill attendant. ‘Kusiaga unga’ in Gatundu town. Did it for three years, earning Sh100 daily. But something better came out of this period; I got born again.

Born again...hadn’t you mentioned that you wanted to be a Catholic father?

I was Catholic. Not any more. I was a youth leader in our Catholic church, had a few differences with the church leaders and I stayed for some time without going to church. One day, those random door-to-door preachers came to our home and talked to me, invited me to their crusade and I went. I got saved the day I attended their crusade. By the time I was leaving them - to join Presbyterian Church, which I’m part of today, they had made me the head of praise and worship.

How did you end up in Nairobi then?

I have an uncle who saw something in me, in my music. A banker uncle. Problem is, he didn’t know how to help me. He came home one day, told me he knew some places on River Road where people sold music cassettes and probably recorded music. That perhaps if I went and talked to those people, someone,  by chance, could point me towards the right direction. So I came with him to Nairobi and he took me to a music shop that belongs to Joseph Kamaru. I was introduced to him. I gave him my recording of a song that I’d written and sang, my details and then we left.

That is a classic Hollywood movie script you are talking about...

It gets better. I nearly forgot about it. I went back to my posho mill job and singing in the church. Then one day, a car drove to my home and Joseph Kamaru walked out. He had come for me. I bathed and just like that, I was out of the village. This was 1997.

At what point did you decide to do vernacular music?

It is interesting that the artistes who inspired me like Esther Wahome, Shari Martin and Mary Atieno, did their songs in Kiswahili. That was the route I wanted to take. But Joseph Kamaru told me to try Kikuyu songs. My first album, ‘Mwiri-uyu’ (This body) was in Kikuyu. Then I did a Kiswahili album - ‘Chunga Ulimi’.

If you were to compare the two, in terms of response and reception , what would you say?

Both of them did hit. ‘Chunga Ulimi’ (the Kiswahili album) exposed me to a greater audience. The curious thing, however, is that when you sing in vernacular, people own you, they own the song. The relationship between you and your audience is deeper and richer.

There is this song, ‘Timiza’. Your song, much loved and adored. What is special about it?

I did it in 2008. During the post-election violence period. It was a prayer and a conversation with God to fulfil the things I’d seen in a dream at night, but which were almost opposite when I woke up in the morning. In the song, I say that in a dream I saw people living peacefully but that when I woke up, people were actually fighting. So  I ask God to fulfil the dreams I had that night.

What of ‘Tabia Mbaya’, another one of your hits?

That one. Haha! I got the idea while at a barbershop when I was getting a hair cut. The barbershop had a salon section and there were these women who were basically gossiping about everything. Their colleagues, their bosses, their friends and all else they had to talk about. Then it hit me that they call themselves Christians too. Most of us are half Christians and half not-so-good people. That is what the song is about. Telling people to stop such.

On urban gospel music...what can you say about the situation right now, especially the criticism...

It has grown. There is a thin line though, that separates gospel music as a career (means of earning a living) and gospel music for ministry. What I see as the problem is that gospel music as a career is ‘killing’ ministry through gospel music.

And the solution to that, in your eyes would be...?

You can change the genre, change the style, change the delivery: Just don’t change the message. Let the gospel remain.

When you are on stage, performing, the audience responding appropriately, how does that make you feel?

To me this is always my highest moment. I feel happy.Fulfilled. And grateful.

As a married man, and a public figure, how do you balance your two lives?

I separate my family life from my music/celebrity life. I don’t expect my family to look at me as a celebrity. I have two daughters...though my daughters have appeared in some of my music videos.

One American writer once wrote that daughters are punishment from God to men in response to all their misdeeds in their younger years...how do you feel about raising a teenage girl?

That is my newest challenge, but I’m praying about it.