The Soul of Kenya, on Canvas

There’s a certain silence that only a painting can explain. The kind that lives between light and shadow, color and memory. And it’s there, in that space, where I create.

I’m an artist based in Nairobi, but really, I live somewhere between emotion and canvas. My medium shifts from oil to acrylic to charcoal to pencil. But the heartbeat remains the same: I try to capture the essence of things, the kind that words fumble to describe. Sometimes it’s the way sunlight lands on a shoulder. Sometimes it’s the memory of someone you loved, seen through someone else’s eyes.

My earliest memory of becoming an artist wasn’t dramatic. I was just a 9-year-old kid sketching in the middle of a boring lesson. My teacher stopped, stared, and asked, “Are you an artist?” I didn’t know what that word meant, but I said yes. I never stopped saying yes.

I draw deeply from Kenya, form its chaos and quiet, its dust and poetry. From the Great Valley's vast skies to the intimate lines on an elder’s face, I chase what can’t be easily named. I paint because it's the only love language I’ve mastered. Where my words are jumbled, my brush is clear. It's how I say: Look at this life. Isn’t it beautiful? Didn’t you almost miss it?

When you see my work, I hope you see more than technique. I hope you’re reminded that life itself is art. And that even the most ordinary faces, the most overlooked places, deserve to be seen with wonder. We are all masterpieces in motion.

And maybe, if I’m being honest, I’m still searching for myself in these pieces. A kind of quiet reunion, one portrait at a time.