One of the things I've been thinking about for quite some time now is how many layers of "mainstream" actually exist within the Kenyan creative ecosystem. I’m using mainstream very loosely juu ni subjective sana. When I started OV, I genuinely thought I was spending most of my time covering artists who existed outside the mainstream. The people I was listening to weren't necessarily the names pulling the biggest numbers on YouTube or dominating radio. In my head, there was the mainstream and then there was everyone else. Simple. Jaba haha.

The more events I attended and the more people I met, the more I realised that the artists I considered alternative were, to some people, already mainstream. There are people who regularly attend live music events, listening parties and festivals who would look at some of the names I considered discoveries and wonder why I was calling them underground in the first place. To them, these are established artists. They headline shows ama wanajiekea zao, have dedicated fan bases and are among the first names that come up when conversations about Kenyan music begin.

That realization sent me down a rabbit hole because it made me question how much of our understanding of music is shaped by where we spend our time. If your music world is built around radio, television and major streaming playlists, you'll probably have a very different definition of mainstream than someone whose weekends revolve around intimate gigs, listening experiences and independent releases.

Wacha nikuambie, just when you think you've found the "alternative" scene, you discover another layer beneath it. Suddenly you're hearing about artists performing in spaces you've never been to, genres you've barely explored, collectives you've never encountered and communities that have been building their own ecosystems completely outside your field of vision. The deeper I've gone, the more I've realized that there are entire worlds operating parallel to the ones I thought I knew.

Another thing I've been grappling with is how the artists I started covering have changed over the years. Some of the people who felt like discoveries when I launched OV are now among the most recognizable names within the spaces we occupy. They're headlining festivals, selling out venues and shaping conversations around Kenyan music. In many ways, that's the dream, ama? To see artists grow. To witness their journeys. To know that you were paying attention before everyone else arrived.

At the same time, it creates an interesting challenge for a platform like OV. If part of the mission is to spotlight artists who need visibility and support, where do you go when the artists you've been championing become established? Do you continue focusing on them because their work still matters, or do you shift your attention to the next generation of artists trying to break through? The answer is probably somewhere in between, but I've found myself thinking about it more and more lately.

What's even more interesting is that "established" depends entirely on perspective. Some of these artists are household names within Nairobi's live music and creative circles but that doesn't necessarily mean they're known across Kenya. And even within Kenya, there's another leap between national recognition and international visibility. Success isn't a single destination. There are layers to it, just as there are layers to the ecosystem itself.

Maybe that's why I've started challenging myself to step outside the corners of the creative world that have become familiar to me. To attend spaces I wouldn't normally attend. To discover artists, art forms and communities that exist beyond my usual orbit. Every time I do, I'm reminded of the curiosity that made me start OV in the first place. The feeling of stumbling onto something exciting and wanting to tell other people about it. The feeling that there is always more to discover.

I think that's one of the reasons I still enjoy attending events as much as I do. Every now and then, something reminds me that I actually know very little. Just when I start feeling like I have a decent understanding of what's happening in Kenyan music, I meet someone who introduces me to five artists I've never heard of, a venue I've never been to or a scene I didn't know existed. Bliss.

The funny thing is that this isn't unique to music. The same thing happens across creative spaces. There are filmmakers, photographers, poets, visual artists, designers, creative technologists and curators doing incredible work that many of us will never encounter unless someone intentionally points us in their direction.

Three years into OV, I think one of the biggest lessons I've learnt is that the Kenyan creative ecosystem is far bigger than any of us think it is. Every time I believe I've reached the edge of it, I discover another door, and honestly, that's probably a good thing. It means there's always another story to tell, another artist to discover and another reason to keep showing up.

Sharing music inafaa kua love language sasa haha. I enjoy doing this so much, so here are my KErrent obsessions. Zikikubamba piga nduru kwa comments.

Episode 35 is finally out! Yes. Finally. I can hear the people who’ve been doing countdowns exhale. I really enjoyed making this episode. Disclaimer, it’s a long episode. More than one hour haha. I hope you enjoy the BTS and POVs on this one.

From Genge Must Soul by Billy Black, Modest Chabari and Mutoriah at Geco, Nyashinski's Showman Residency, KE Takeover Vol. 6, Now It’s Experience Talking listening experience by Muthoni Drummer Queen and Blinky Bill, Fresh Finds Sessions by oneRPM and Spotify, Hildah Watiri's listening experience for Watiri's Trouble, Rituals and The Clearing by Bizi Bingi, there's a lot to catch up on.

If you’ve attended any of the events mentioned in the episode or you’ve got thoughts on anything covered, feel free to share them. You can reply to this email, drop a comment on the podcast platforms or join the conversations on our community spaces. I’m always curious to hear what stood out for you, especially if your experience of those moments was different from mine.

At the end of it uniambie if you would still say yes.

Voting for the 2026 BAKE Awards is still open until 18th June and we’re genuinely grateful for everyone who has already taken the time to vote and support Ongeza Volume. It means a lot to see the work we’ve been doing across the podcast, events and community spaces being recognised in this way. We don’t take any of it for granted. If you haven’t voted yet and would still like to support, vote here.

We’ve been continuing with our Wednesday TikTok Lives at 8:30pm. Ungana nasi ukiweza. These spaces we’re creating, including this newsletter, are in their early stages and each edition is helping shape what this space becomes and how it connects with the wider OV community.

Looking ahead, we’re also working towards a women only creative workshop set for 23rd July 2026. It’s designed as a space for women in the creative industry to connect, share and build in a more intentional environment and more details will be shared soon. Priority goes to you, our OV Fam. If you’d like to be part of it, you can register here. Kama kuna mtu you feel fits this criteria, please feel free to share the application form with them.

As always, if you’ve been part of any OV spaces, online or offline, you’re welcome to stay connected and be part of the ongoing conversations.

Zenkyu for taking a few minutes to read this edition of The OV Read.

If you enjoyed it, feel free to share it with a friend who’s into discovering Kenyan music, going to events or getting into unnecessarily long conversations about songs and everything around them.

Tuendelee kuongeza volume

Turus :)