Actor Jeff Obonyo reflects on campus, theatre and his creative journey, while highlighting the challenges Kenyan artists face in earning a living and calling for greater investment in the arts.
Who is Jeff Obonyo beyond the theatre and screen actor we know?
I’m simply a young man becoming. A son, brother, friend, leader, creative visionary and, very much, a student of life. I’m learning every day. Honestly, even answering this question has taught me something new about myself.
Where and what did you study at university?
I am a Stratizen. I studied at Strathmore University, where I earned a Bachelor of Arts in Communication.
Favourite and least favourite unit while on campus?
Honestly, I never got the chance to hate any unit. If I had to pick a least favourite, it would have to be the examination room itself!
Best or least favourite lecture?
My best ‘lecture’, wasn’t in a classroom at all. It was the hours of community service I spent at Kwetu Home of Peace, a rehabilitation centre for street boys. Those days taught me more than any syllabus could.
How was campus life generally?
It was a period of self-discovery, independence and figuring out who I was becoming. I was constantly asking questions. Some I found answers to; some I didn’t. I’m still finding answers to some of them. Some people around me knew exactly where I was headed; others didn’t, including me. I’m learning that was okay, too.
How did you make money while on campus?
I did not.
How was dating on campus?
It was a classroom altogether...
What do you think of campus relationships?
I think any relationship on campus, whether academic, professional or romantic, has a ‘why’ behind it. Pardon the jargon, but my Public Relations class under Dr Wairimu Njeru taught me to think of people in any relationship as ‘stakeholders’, each with their own reason for being there. And that reason changes over time.
Where did you hang out on weekends?
They mostly found me at a rehearsal venue for dance, acting or both.
What did you do with your free time?
I used to write poetry, which eventually grew into a blog. It became a space where I learned how to express myself. Then came acting.
Classmates you will never forget?
Two names come to mind immediately: Brian Mutave and Sam Ouma. Both are honestly unforgettable in their own right.
Apart from acting, you are also a voice artist. Tell us about that.
I’m not sure ‘voice artist’ is the exact term, but I was recently cast in a radio play reading of A Dinner at Her Excellency’s by John Sibi-Okumu. It is a story about people who sound a lot like us. It didn’t try to teach; it exposed. And one question refused to leave the room: what kind of country are we actually becoming? I also took part in a reading of Betrayal in the City by Francis Imbuga and, more recently, stepped onto a live stage to read Bertolt Brecht’s The Caucasian Chalk Circle. I’m grateful to Play Reading KE, the incredibly talented casts and everyone who shared those rooms with us.
Recently, you acted in LICH: The General Returns. Tell us about your character.
On August 7 and 8, 2026, I played Ondiek, the late General Okello’s elder brother, in LICH: The General Returns, written and directed by Mike Ndeda, produced by Brian Aseli, with music direction by Andrew Kakai. Ondiek is fascinating because he sits at the crossroads of family, tradition, authority and personal desire. He genuinely believes in culture and the duties of an elder, especially after his brother’s death. But as the story unfolds, he uses that same culture to justify his desires and maintain control over the family. That contradiction makes him interesting to play. He doesn’t see himself as a villain, and neither did I. My approach is to start with his circumstances rather than his emotions. I ask: Who is Ondiek in this moment? What does he want? What stands in his way? And what does he do when his first approach fails? I draw a lot from Uta Hagen’s approach to truthful acting. Instead of deciding, ‘This is the angry scene’ or ‘This is the intimidating scene’, I let the situation produce the emotion naturally.
Which local and international actors do you look up to and hope to work with someday?
Names have never really been my thing when it comes to this. I’d rather say I want to work with any creative, local or global, who brings something honest to the table. That said, Denzel Washington is someone whose work I’ve followed closely and admired over the years. Beyond that, I’m deeply grateful to have already worked alongside so much talent locally.
What role does theatre play in educating, entertaining and influencing audiences in Kenya?
I believe theatre is a powerful tool for social change and transformation. It goes beyond entertainment; it functions as a mirror to society, sparking critical conversations about sensitive and multifaceted issues. As an actor, I’ve had the privilege of telling stories that highlight the historical and political realities of our nation. One such performance was Flight 1963 by award-winning playwright Martin Abuya, which explored a nation’s stagnant progress. By dramatising themes like these, artists provoke reflection and, ideally, action. Theatre also speaks directly to family and social dynamics. As Cesar Cruz put it, ‘Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.’
What challenges do you and peers face in the industry, and what changes would you like to see?
The business side of art often ties the survival of actors, musicians and creatives to the value placed on their craft, making it difficult to create freely. Art needs room to breathe, experiment, fail and grow. But when you’re also trying to pay rent, that room quickly shrinks. I’d like to see more consistent investment in the arts from both the private sector and government. Society needs to value creative work not as a luxury or side hustle, but as legitimate labour that shapes how a nation sees and understands itself. Until that value is matched with fair compensation, many talented people will continue choosing between the craft and the cheque.
What advice would you give young Kenyans who dream of becoming professional actors?
You’re already young, so use that. Keep your eyes and mind open. Show up, for yourself, the story, the script and the future you’re building. No one can play you better than you. Whatever is yours will be yours. The industry can be unpredictable, but consistency counts for more than people realise.
One thing you would tell your young campus self?
Breathe in. Breathe out. It helps more than you’d think.