Master busker: The making of a one-man band

It is a few minutes past 6pm, and Uhuru Park in Nairobi looks like a transit town or a railway terminus.

People are walking by fast, on their way home from various engagements that make up their daily routine. An ice-cream vendor pushes his cart, now and then tugging at his bell.

It is a beautiful evening, made even more poetic by the shadows thrown into the waters of the pond inside the park by the departing sun.

A light breeze scuffs the surface of the lake, disturbing the water. Presently, the sound of music floats in the wind. The trail leads to a most unusual sight.

A man sporting dreadlocks is splaying his guitar, and hitched to his back is a drum-set. Slowly, an audience gathers around the source.

INVITES

He is playing ‘Stand’ by E.B. King. He moves effortlessly onto Bob Marley’s "Redemption" and then asks the crowd to suggest a song.

Someone requests a faint song, and after a few seconds searching his mental catalogue, the musician pulls at his harmonica.

This routine is life for Joshua Kamau, famously known as Krack Wizz or one-man band. Since 2014, he has lived out his passion on the road and on sidewalks of towns and cities.

He could be the most distinct artiste anywhere, a busker of the truest cloth. He goes wherever the music is needed: church, weddings, corporate events, even dowry negotiation ceremonies.

The road, with its endless possibilities, has always been an inviting pull for restless souls; the poets, the musicians, the prophets.

DREAM

On these roads, there is danger, luck, scorn, thrifty hands, kindness of strangers, and even the skies.

There is also the next town, a motel room to lay one’s burdens down, to tug at the guitar strings, to jot down notes, to thumb through a book.

Such is the pull, but how much does a dream cost? What does one give up to chase his inner moon? The unrest came to Joshua Kamau when he was studying for a course in Information Technology at JKUAT.

He was in fourth year and school wasn’t working out for him. The young man’s restless soul sought something more authentic. He wanted to be a musician, to lead a band.

The conflict of identity sent his grades reeling. “I was discontinued,” says Kamau, matter-of-factly.

That a once-promising student could willingly tank his studies to earn a discontinuation was unthinkable to Kamau’s family back in Murang’a. “It was very hard for them,” he explains.

BAND

The debut was a little wobbly and even Kamau questioned his wisdom, but it always came back to something basic. “I loved music since childhood, and I longed to own a band,” he says.

The idea of forming a band nearly came to fruition during his college days, after Kamau talked some friends into buying his vision. “I then realised that they were not as committed as I was. I also discovered that forming a band was not as simple as I had thought.”

While surfing the internet, Kamau came across a story about a man who played music out of his back. “That was it! If I couldn’t purchase equipment for a full band or even form one, I could assemble what I could,” he says.

Kamau bought a drum-set and a guitar, later adding on the harmonica, and the busker life was in full course.

ENDORSEMENT

The gigs were small, the audience drawn mostly by curiosity and the collection bowl tinkled only with loose change.

Still Kamau played on, along the way gathering a following and finally music deals. He currently plays at Stima Club in Nairobi and has also won endorsements from telecom giant Safaricom.

When Kamau talks about his art, and living off his hobby, his eyes light up with fervour. Music, he says, must come from a good place; that way, even when the road becomes rocky, one can always fall back on the reason he “first got on the road”.

“Not everyone appreciates my job,” Kamau, 34, continues. “Some will want to underpay you even after working long hours.

In 2018, Kamau was invited by a pastor for a street evangelism crusade in Mwanza, Tanzania.

The two-week event was a first for the one-man band, and a memorable experience. His motorcycle drew crowds along the way, and Kamau stopped to do a song or two every now and then. “It was awesome. People were welcoming,” he says.

TALENT

Kamau is currently working on an album. He is also saving up to buy a car, an investment that he says will ease his movement, carrying the nine kilograms weight of the drum set and other equipment, and will also protect them from the elements of weather.

Kibera estate – an informal settlement in Nairobi – has been Kamau’s base for the past several years. He loves the fact that he is surrounded by talent, and hopes that young people living there can have an outlet for their talents.

“I have been in Kibera for a long time. There is a lot of talent there that, if well tapped and sponsored, we wouldn’t be crying of unemployment,” he explains.

Music aside, Kamau has revisited his IT roots for a project in Kibera. “We are recycling old laptop batteries and making electric wheelchairs for people living with disabilities,” he says, adding that he hopes to scale up the project to be an income earner while also contributing to the welfare of people with disabilities.

CULTURE

Busking – performing music in the streets or a public place for voluntary donations – is wildly popular in Western countries.

Musicians such as British folk singer Passenger propelled their careers performing in the streets. Passenger still busks, albeit not for the money.

While money can be a factor, at the heart of busking is a pure desire to perform to an audience on a free platform. “Making people feel entertained is my greatest joy,” says Kamau.

Though the culture is yet to take root in the country, Kamau says many artistes are discovering the opportunities it can provide. “Busking is a great way for musicians to grow. Depending on the location, one can make up to Sh5,000 in a day, Kamau reveals.

Kamau’s repertoire includes 12 musical instruments, all interlinked for a harmonious delivery. The drums in the back answer to Kamau’s foot tapping on a pedal.

FAMILY SUPPORT

One must be aware at all times, Kamau explains, but he has acquired masterly to the point that he is part of the equipment.

Kamau mostly performs in his signature uniform: A loose top and pants in the colours of the Kenyan flag. To complete the patriotic attire, a tiny flag perches atop the drums.

Says Kamau: “It is my identity. Kenya is great; being Kenyan is great.” His family eventually came around. “It was not easy but they now support me, and I am grateful for that,” he says.