When I was in class three I hated my English teacher. I hated her because she asked me to read out aloud in class. And because I could not read, the other pupils giggled and laughed whenever I tried.

Growing up in the slums of Manyatta meant that everyone had to contribute in placing food on the table. And although education was viewed as a luxury and only the fortunate could afford, my mother took it upon herself to ensure that we all attended school.

One, therefore, had to carefully balance their chores with school. Vending milk, bread, household products, and second-hand clothes was like our family motto.

My mother, a second wife in a tough polygamous marriage, had to be creative in order for us to stay in school.

She initiated several small-scale businesses, and somehow recruited us as her initial employees. When I was in primary school I woke up as early as 4am to supply milk and bread.

Most mornings when I arrived at Kosawo Primary School I was already exhausted. I spent a lot of time dropping off milk on my bicycle every morning before going to school, which made it hard for me to learn how to read in school.

Unable to concentrate in class, and hating being punished by teachers regularly, I found truancy attractive.

We got together with a few friends and walked all the way to the shores of Lake Victoria, where we had our hiding spots. After going to these unruly trips for months, Violet, one of my older sisters learned about it.

She then started walking together with me to school so that I could not join my truant group. In the process, she learned that I was partly avoiding school because I did not know how to read.

Whereas I could not read books at school, she knew that I could read the packets of milk and bread that we supplied. She helped me collect more packets of other items sold in our shop, and taught me how to read using them.

After a few weeks of learning from those items, I realised that I could also read sign posts along the road and in that excitement, I began volunteering to read passages in class.

I sat for my KCSE in 2002 and joined the Railway Training Institute in Nairobi and it was while here that I made friends within Nairobi’s music and theatre community.

I soon began supplying music to Kisumu deejays and participating in various plays at the Kenya National Theatre.

After my studies, I went back to Kisumu to help manage my mother’s orphanage and the experience cultivated here saw me land a job with a US based non-governmental organisation, Solace International. It was here that I met my wife Rebecca and eventually relocated to the US.

Prior to my departure to the US, in 2007, when the post-election violence occurred I was inspired to use the influence I had built in the music industry to bring people together and this gave rise to One Vibe Entertainment.

We organised the first ever ‘Unite the People Concert’ in Kisumu and preached peaceful coexistence, and create opportunities for young people to learn alternatives to violence and drugs.

The success of that event and its subsequent annual series led us to our vision of creating a Music and Art Centre in 2013 to support young people realise their full potential. This has experienced exponential growth and today benefits 100 students aged 10 and 19.

The centre is based at Young Generation Centre in Manyatta under a group of instructors who provide traditional music classes using Nyatiti, Orutu, and Ohangla drums, and also teach vocals, poetry, visual art, guitar, and dance classes.

Technology has made it convenient so that I can work on projects while I am still in the US. The Kenyan team runs things in my absence. We just liaise weekly via email, Facebook, Skype, and over the phone.

One Vibe has been able transform the lives of several youths from informal settlements and today we organise the biggest annual music awards for artistes in Western Kenya.