What does Blasto Ooko, Ernest Waomba and Arthur Kemoli have in common? They were easily among Kenya’s best music composers, but few people know them, and their fortunes did not reflect the richness of their works.
If you have hummed or sang to ‘Cha Kutumaini Sina’ or ‘Jiwe la Pembeni’, you have Blasto, who died last month on September 16, to thank.
But behind the beautiful harmonies that captivate audiences lie the untold stories of composers who, despite their talent and musical brilliance, struggled to make ends meet.
These musical giants, whose compositions have echoed through Kenyan churches, schools, and national events, lived lives of financial hardship, often unrecognised until it was too late. They were often neglected by the very society they served.
One such legend is Ernest Waomba, a former choir director at Friends International Centre, Ngong Road, whose music thrilled audiences at both church and public events.
Waomba was a household name among the Kenyan student population, with his performances a highlight of the annual Kenya Music Festivals.
“Waomba sacrificed his family life for music,” recalls his widow, Mary Waomba.
“But his work was never recognised after stage performances. He died penniless, living in miserable conditions in a flat on the outskirts of Nairobi.”
Waomba directed choirs for major organisations like Kenya Power and Kenyatta National Hospital. He also formed the group Ninga Flames.
To his friends and the music community, it was a shock to discover that such a prolific composer had lived in such dire circumstances.
Waomba’s story is not unique. Dr Arthur Mudogo Kemoli, who died in December 2020, is another.
Fimbo ya Nyayo
Kemoli was a monumental figure in Kenya’s choral music history, composing anthems for institutions like the African Union and the University of Nairobi. He even played a key role in the politically charged anthem ‘Fimbo ya Nyayo’ during President Daniel Arap Moi’s regime.
The departed don first formed the Kariokor Friends Church Choir (which later became the Kariokor Nyayo Choir) and the University of Nairobi student choir.
Despite being awarded the prestigious Order of the Grand Warrior of Kenya (OGW) in 1998 for his dedication to cultural development, and Honours Award for distinguished service to the University of Nairobi in 2002, Kemoli’s later years were marked by a quiet struggle.
He was still researching several publications including two volumes of Kenyan folk music and two of African spirituals, when he died.
When he passed on, Prime Cabinet Secretary Musalia Mudavadi described him as “an unassuming musical maestro” who nurtured and inspired a multitude of Kenyan choir masters.
Kemoli, who led mass choirs and composed songs that were performed internationally, is remembered for his infectious joy and exuberant style.
Steve Chore, another renowned composer, faced even grimmer circumstances. Known for his breathtaking performances, Chore allowed his songs to be performed for free, never seeking financial gain.
Towards the end of his life, he battled health issues and had to appeal for fundraising to pay his hospital bills.
Despite a benefit concert organized by friends and fellow musicians, the funds raised barely covered his medical expenses.
The story of Blasto Ooko, perhaps the most famous of all impoverished composers, follows a similar trajectory.
His funeral procession was followed by thousands, a testament to the love and respect he had earned from the Kenyan music community.
Yet, Ooko, like many before him, struggled financially.
In one occasion, Blasto faced Bitange Ndemo while serving as Permanent Secretary in the Ministry of Information and Communication, in 2011, and said: “The person who did research on Mugithi is Blasto Samuel Ooko. Those who were in the Kenya Music Festival can attest. I came with the KenGen Choir with Men in black. I directed it. Somebody from somewhere came and mixed without my knowledge,” he said.
“In 1998, I did ‘Niwara Nono’, it was sung and won in America, United Kingdom as well as here. Am still poor as I am. Kenyans need to ashamed of themselves,” he said.
Wimbo wa Historia
Even the legendary Enock Ondego, the man behind timeless compositions like ‘Wimbo wa Historia’, which has become synonymous with Kenya’s national celebrations, lived a life of despair in his final years.
Despite his close association with the founding president, Jomo Kenyatta, Ondego spent his last five decades in financial hardship.
His family struggled to raise enough money to give him a decent burial after his passing in 2023. His son, Michael Ondego, lamented his father’s plight, saying: “He lived a miserable life. My father fought for the copyright of his songs, but it was all in vain.”
“Like athletes, footballers and other people who earn from their talents, choral music directors go down penniless,” says Prof Fredrick Ngala, chairman of the Kenya Music Festival.
The stories of these unsung heroes serve as a stark reminder that artistic genius is often not enough to guarantee financial security,” says Richard Khadambi, another music legend
“We need to recognize them and reward them for the great work they are doing to entertain and bless our souls with gospel and patriotic songs. I want someone to honor me when am still alive, not at my death bed,” he says.
Humphrey Kisia, composer and arranger, says for many composers, the dream of living off their art remains elusive.
“Our music directors are grappling with poverty while their music thrives in public spaces. As the Kenyan music community continues to evolve, the hope remains that future generations of composers will not face the same struggles and that their work will be both celebrated and fairly compensated,” he says.
