In the final instalment of the Kibera series, the musician describes his journey from Kenya’s largest slum to London

Samson Odhiambo Otieno’s early life was never going to be easy. Born into a life of poverty in Kibera, Nairobi, at a young age he endured the death of his mother and siblings, and rejection by his new step-mother. Forced out of the only home he knew he became one of Kenya’s street children, living on the road, making his way through life the best he could.

Otieno, now 29, attended the launch of the Guardian’s Kibera: living in the slum exhibition to catch up with the life he once knew and memories he treasures dearly, through the images of his hometown – a far cry from where he is now.

Otieno wanted to contribute to the series by sharing his story.

“My mother was only 14 when she had me. Her waters broke when she was alone, her screams alerted our neighbour who rushed to help her. They delivered me there and then, in a small plastic bathing basin.

“My mother and father went on to have six more children, three of whom died at an early age from complications that even now I can’t fully understand.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Samson Otieno aged five with his father, Joannes Otieno, in Kibera, Nairobi. Photograph: Courtesy of Samson Otieno

When he was 10 years old, Otieno’s mother died from an unknown illness. Living in a struggling household he dropped out of school, his father remarrying a year later. Otieno hoped that his stepmother would unite the family but he was wrong.

“I could not get along with my stepmother. She thought I was too opinionated to be in the same house as her and made my father choose between me and her. I decided to leave, I was only 11 years old. I left Kibera and lived on the streets between Kisumu and Nairobi.

“Life was tough, I had no money and no one to care for me. I would hang around with boys of my own age. We would all sleep in the same areas for safety, usually around bus shelters. Sometimes there would be up to 15 of us together. We had no money for food so we ate from bins or begged passersby for money. I avoided stealing as I knew this would bring trouble with the police. I had no clothes to speak of, I would find sacks and turn them into shoes. The larger ones we would wear or sleep in to keep out the weather.

“I was a street child for four years, but I was one of the lucky ones,” says Otieno, who was rescued by Kisumu Urban Apostolate Programmes, an organisation that rehabilitates and reunites street children with their families. “They helped me and other street children acquire different skills, from masonry and mechanical engineering to carpentry and fine arts amongst others. I qualified as a stonemason.

“I have seen too many life changing opportunities pass me by because I didn’t have the qualifications or the right papers. If it wasn’t for art I don’t think I would be where I am today.”

Q&A Why are we reporting on Kibera? Show Hide More than 60% of all African city dwellers live in slums. As the climate crisis continues to drive people away from rural areas and into cities, urbanisation has become a growing issue across the globe. The Guardian's Global development team travelled to Africa's biggest slum, Kibera, in Nairobi, Kenya, in an effort to look beyond the stereotypes and myths of life in a slum. Many people living in Kibera work hard, long days. They pay high rents for flimsy shacks on land owned by the government and effectively squatted on by landlords. They have no services and the only taxation comes in the form of protection money demanded by police and gangs. Each day is a struggle to scrape together enough money and food to reach the next. Electricity, clean water, toilets, healthcare and schools are either non-existent or not available to all residents. At any one time, 50% of Kibera's 15- to 25-year-old women are pregnant. Abortion is illegal and contraception scarce. Rape and child sex abuse is endemic. Abuse of drink and drugs is rife. Food is cheap but unhealthy – fizzy drinks are easier to get than clean water.

Otieno was taken in by his aunt and uncle in Kibera, people he describes as being “the most selfless people I know”.

Following Kenya’s post-election violence in 2007–08, Otieno and his friends became involved in a peace initiative and in 2010 he became a founding member of Kibera’s first free community library. From a young age, when he sang in a church choir in Kibera, he had a passion for music.

“I lived in a neighbourhood brimming with talent. I hung out with older boys trying to make it in the music industry. We had small gatherings performing for the neighbourhood at the ‘practice space’ in Kibera. My first performance was a song written by my then girlfriend who was a poet, I was so nervous, sweaty and couldn’t stop shaking. But people liked it and encouraged me to practice to build my confidence,” he says.

“I believe that my music saved my life, I would have most likely joined a gang or been killed by the police for being gang affiliated. With police brutality and killings, it just feels like they [police in Kibera] are bloodthirsty. Sometimes they would just decide to kill innocent people and plant guns or drugs on them for fun. A lot of young people, especially men, have been unlucky enough to suffer this fate.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Samson Otieno, aged 22, teaching young boys in Kibera. Photograph: Courtesy of Samson Otieno

“Being involved with the local charities and arts groups helped me stay out of trouble and to build a reputation with the community. It’s important, as if you are popular in Kibera, they [the police] can’t just gun you down. That could bring too much heat. But sometimes they do, because the police there operate with impunity, and are unlikely to face any serious consequences for their actions.”

Otieno met his British partner Belinda at a festival in Kenya in 2014, when she was working for a human rights organisation. Two years later they were married, and they now have a five-year-old daughter, Kayla Keshi.

'The people have power': Kenya's gang leader turned community builder Read more

Otieno continued to pursue the goals he set for himself, with disappointments and setbacks along the way. “But in 2016, my good friends Mohammad Abdullah, AKA Shamir, and Louis Oketch, AKA DJ Lorc, urged me to get back in the ring – Shamir offering vocal lessons and producing most of my music.”

A Kiberan star was born, as Otieno’s unique style of afro-pop took shape. “I like to experiment. I often have an element of more than one genre in my projects. My art is inspired by my environment and personal experiences. My biggest influences include Bob Marley, Shamir Tadeiya, Oliver Mtukudzi, Ray Charles and Lucky Dube,” he explains.

In 2017, Otieno and his family moved to the UK. “I got here, loved it, and now we’re building our lives here. This is my third year in the UK.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Samson Otieno with his wife Belinda Goodman and daughter Kayla Keshi, aged five, shopping in London. Photograph: Courtesy of Samson Otieno

Using the stage name Tymilyfe, Otieno’s success began to grow. “I released my debut single Lipstick on 14 February 2019 to a warm reception in east Africa. The audio was recorded in Kibera but the visuals shot in London. I later released my second single Wrong Information in May 2019, followed by my latest single Agenda in July, which was also well received.”

Otieno is keen to help others less fortunate than himself. He has set up Tymilyfe Limited, a Kenyan-based company committed to supporting talent from less privileged backgrounds in Kenya’s informal settlements. They provide vocal coaching and audio-visual production workshops taught by experts.

“My dream is to be the inspiration that Shamir was to me. I want to be the reason why someone does not give up on their dreams, why someone’s art is putting food on their table. I want to be their inspiration.”

Tymilyfe is an acronym for “thank you mum I love you forever”.