A taxing time. President William Ruto rose to power as the nation's "Hustler-in-Chief," playing up his religious faith and humble beginnings. Two years in, his regime is primarily renowned for its heavy taxation policy. In March 2023, protests broke out triggered by the high cost of living.
Musically, Kenya was stretching its boundaries and crafting a diverse sonic landscape. And as life got harder by the day, protest music re-emerged with a passion. Sabi Wu's "Maandamano Riddim" brought the heat, urging Kenyans to take pride in their country by speaking truth to power and hitting the streets to reclaim their dignity.

Flier’s "Uchumi Ni Mbaya" spun a love story through the lens of a tough economy, while Willie Oeba's "Dear Mr. President" calls out the government’s broken promises and calling on citizens to hold them accountable at the ballot box.
Ruto’s presidency also coincided with the full bloom of Tiktok, a viral platform on which young people endlessly created playful skits and rode trending sounds that poked fun at Ruto and his government. This culminated in "Anguka Nayo", as the unofficial anthem of the #RejectFinanceBill2024 protests that eventually brought down the ill-fated legislation.

The Mandugu digital era. The Uhuru decade was like a mixtape of political and social hits and misses. Coming into power as an ICC indictee and tasked with chaperoning the new constitution, Uhuru's government promised to remix life for Kenyans—especially the youth—by going digital, both literally and figuratively. The music scene in this era was bold and defiant, and thanks to the booming internet space, viral. However, Uhuru's era was marked by corruption scandals like NYS and high costs of living. His presidency also birthed the “Occupy Parliament” movement which hit the streets to call out MPs' greed over their proposed pay raise.
King Kaka's "Mwizi Mkubwa" laid down serious bars about the corrupt tricks politicians use to navigate elections. Then came "Wajinga Nyinyi” ("You Are Fools"), where King Kaka took off the gloves and scathingly pointed the lens at citizens, calling them out for never holding the government accountable.

The era also saw artists like Sauti Sol switch up their tune. Known for their feel good afro-fusion vibes upto then, they teamed up with Nyashinski on "Tujiangalie" and Khaligraph Jones on "In My Head," dipping their feet into political waters for the first time.
Meanwhile, a new youthful sound burst onto the scene in the shape of Gengetone. Bursting with middle finger energy, these youth were twerking to and resisting everything from the traditional music industry to pushing back against the narrow focus on sexual immorality in a society rotten in so many other ways. Then there was Wakadinali, the drill masters coming in proclaiming "Kuna Siku Youths Wataungana," an anthem of both desperation and hope, promising that one day the young will rise against their oppressors. Their unique style left listeners not just admiring but empathizing with characters navigating the harsh realities of urban life. Their track "Geri Inengi” went viral in 2022, topping the charts as the most streamed song of the year, and closing the curtain on Uhuru’s bumpy second term.

Kati ya Calif na Ogopa gani kali? Music in the Kibaki era mirrored Kenya's socio-political and cultural evolution. Riding into power to Gidi Gidi's "Unbwogable," Kibaki's presidency ushered in fresh national optimism and sounds. The era saw the rise of contemporary Kenyan pop, hip-hop, and R&B, alongside the enduring Benga. Ogopa gave us Kapuka, while Calif countered with Genge. Sadly, ghosts of old re-emerged within the new regime, with scandals like Anglo Leasing and intense political infighting breaking the mteso (coalition) government. As times turned sour, so did the music; with artists like Ukoo Flani releasing outspoken political and social musical commentary, addressing issues such as corruption, police brutality, and abject poverty in the ghetto.
Kibaki’s second term kicked off with the eruption of Post Election Violence erupted in 2008, a far cry from the dreams of 2002.

Choirs from across the country united to record music promoting peace under the auspices of the Permanent Presidential Music Commission, resulting in the "May We Dwell in Unity". However, this could not hide the deep scars of the nation dwelling in an uneasy peace, while still riddled with numerous pitfalls from IDPs, maize scandals, poachers, MPs giving themselves salary hikes, and police brutality. As Kibaki’s era neared its chaotic end, Juliani’s gritty lyrics were ringing in the nation’s ears as Kenyans looked to youthful energy to revive the dreams of a nation. “Barua ya Ocampo” called for justice for PEV victims, years after the gruesome crimes had been committed and no one brought to book for it. But the real chart-topper was "Utawala," which became the soundtrack of the 2013 election season. Originally commissioned by Kenya Television Network for their election coverage, KTN cranked up the volume with daily airplay, turning "Utawala" into a hit.

Praises on praises on praises. Moi followed Kenyatta’s ‘nyayo’ tradition by using music to rally support and sing his praises, with choirs being his preferred performers. He was so dedicated to this form of music that he was the patron of Boniface Mganga's Nairobi Quatre Mass Choir (later the National Muungano Choir.) The dominant Kenyan sound became the choir. Sing along songs like Fimbo ya Nyayo, Fuata Nyayo, Tushangilie Kenya and Tawala Kenya Tawala, became synonymous with the man. But even the patriotic songs (often produced at Moi's behest) couldn't drown out the bad in the regime. Moi's time in office was marked by widespread protests from university students, teachers, and one of the longest doctors' strikes lasting 105 days. While the government pushed pro-Moi songs and suppressed critical ones, musicians cleverly wove socio-political commentary into their work.

Osumba Rateng's "Budget" song came out in 1984, right after the budget reading, and reflected the tough economic crisis for the average Kenyan. Rateng’ was summoned to State House, and the government banned the song, labeling it as "political."
In 1990, following the assassination of Foreign Affairs Minister Robert Ouko, Daniel Owino Misiani released a song lamenting the minister’s torture and death. The government didn’t take kindly to this and had Misiani arrested. "Mambo ni Yale Yale" tackled neocolonialism, extrajudicial killings and called for release of political prisoners.
At the tail end of Moi's rule, a shift in sound was happening, Kalamashaka’s "Tafsiri Hii," opened the waves to hip hop, while Eric Wainaina’s "Nchi ya Kitu Kidogo" that addressed the rampant corruption in Kenya at the time, trumpeted neo-benga and afro-soul.

Music in the Kenyatta era thrived as a powerful tool for nation-building and cultural expression. Patriotic songs celebrated the newfound freedom and Kenyatta's leadership, often playing to the rhythms of Benga, Kenya’s original sound. Blending traditional sounds with modern styles, the era's music provided entertainment but also sharp social commentary, often protesting issues like land reform, political freedom, and political assassinations, reflecting the challenges and aspirations of a newly independent nation.

A few songs pointedly addressed defining moments such as the deaths of leaders like Argwings Kodhek, who died in a suspicious accident in January 1969 (Kodhek), Tom Mboya, assassinated in July 1969 (Why Tom?); and Josiah Mwangi (JM) Kariuki, found dead in Ngong Hills (JM Kariuki). The state harshly suppressed its critics, banning Kamaru’s song that protested JM’s killing. Similarly, Ishmael Ng’ang’a’s song "Mai ni Maruru" (Bitter Waters), which criticized the political elite for self-enrichment after independence, was also banned.