Ndonye: I was a child who washed her hands and dined with the king

Hi Mambo Mambo….

Hi Cathyyyyyy … (hearty laughter)

That was the standard opening to every phone call from Leonard Mambo Mbotela for as long as mobile phones have existed in Kenya.

He would then ask; “Uko BH leo? (Are you at Broadcasting House today?)

The only time that conversation would change was if he was listening to Sundowner and requesting for his favorite song, Amanda by Don Williams.

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I was a child when the attempted coup of 1982 activities were playing out on the airwaves and on the ground. I did not quite grasp the magnitude of the matter even though I sensed panic among the adults, then hours later, jubilation and relief when the voice on the radio announced that  ‘Serikali ya rais Daniel arap Moi sasa iko imara’.

When I joined KBC in 1996, of course having listened to VOK all my not-so-long life, I was dying to put faces to all the mysterious voices I had heard on KBC radios. Many a day went by and many a face I feasted on. It did not take long to see Mbotela. I saw a man larger than life. An air of power around him. He was like a moving mountain. A small god with the most unique voice. Not just flesh and blood, he was radio itself walking on twos.

I may not put a finger to the first day I ever spoke with Mbotela. I was young, quiet and new. KBC office was a mysterious place. Where all the greats congregated. The audio/music library was a good point to meet various senior presenters. It was a place I would sit quietly and marvel at the sight of radio men and women as I went through the amazing music catalogue.

It is one thing to be a mentor but another to be a friend. Maya Angelou was right. People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did but people will never forget how you made them feel.

Gentle giant

Mbotela was one of the greatest radio voices that will walk on our land. His was not just a voice, it was an eternal proclamation. An announcement even when passing greetings. A clarion call without any boom. When he spoke, you wanted to listen. He did not just speak, he trumpeted.

He had a sense of presence and a towering physical stature to boot. Yet a gentle giant. A heart that melted with love at the mere act of shaking a stranger’s hand. When this huge man greeted you, he did it with both hands, looking you in the eye, smiling. It didn’t matter who you were.

When Mbotela laughed, it was loud. It thundered. His laughter would clap and reverberate everywhere across the building, causing a moment of silence. If anywhere along the long corridors of Broadcasting House, every office would get the signal that the man was within KBC. He let it out. The unstoppable God given voice. Some sort of necessary noise. It was a household sound. Mbotela was one happy human being. One who loved humor.

Come to think of it, I have never seen him sulky or grumpy. His jokes were unmatched. If you didn’t laugh, he would.

That notwithstanding, he had a different approach towards work. He did he leave anything to chance. Mbotela was thorough. When in a recording studio voicing and mixing his programmes, the studio was under lock and key. It was not the place to come and hang around. He did not allow unnecessary distractions.

He was allergic to mediocrity. It annoyed him when radio presenters in whatever station did not package their shows well. He could tell a well prepared programme just by listening. Kiswahili had to be spoken well and if it wasn’t, he corrected instantly.

Leonard was extremely humane. About 22 years ago, he offered to MC my family function in Nairobi. Shortly after to my surprise, he declined payment for the work done and instead proceeded to make a financial contribution of an equal amount. What man was this?

Mambo was not your usual celebrity. He was generous, happy, respectful, funny and too humble for his name and fame.

He gave radio broadcasting such authenticity that in the 80s, every Sunday we would literally run home from church not to miss his “Je, Huu ni Ungwana?” show.

He would raffle papers while presenting the show and say; “Nimepokea barua nyingi sana kukota kwenu wasikilizaji wangu mkiniomba niseme jambo kuhusu hii tabia mbaya ….etc (I have received many letters from you listeners asking me to speak baout this annoying issue).”

That paper sound was the magic for me as a nine-year-old. I dreamt of one day being in the studio and reading out letters from listeners, which I did years later in my first ever radio production, “Keeping Track” programme.

The simple ruffling of a paper in the studio, brought out an actuality that made a listener’s inner eyes open. Creativity is hard to find in radio broadcasts today. He spoke directly to the listener with originality and authenticity.

As the legend signs off, I rejoice that I was a child who washed their hands and was allowed to dine with the king. I take pride in having organised and executed, supported by my supervisors and KBC management, the pioneer event to recognize, appreciate and celebrate veterans, the Living Legends of Broadcasting in Kenya, in 2019 at the Carnivore. Honouring Mbotela, Elizabeth Omollo and others was the inspiration behind it.

In May last year, under the leadership of the Association of Professional Broadcasters, we are happy to have organised a beautiful 84th birthday party for Mbotela, presenting him among other gifts, and a symbolic Sh1,000 for each year lived (Sh84,000) for conquering each year with a smile on his face. Our small way of saying thank you for your service.

It is not lost on me that for some reason, I found favour with Mbotela. Not so long ago my friend Zipporah Simani made fun of the fact that even in his old age, and as recently as  2024, Mbotela would still call me, to “buy” me lunch at the KBC canteen. A privilege seemingly not accorded everybody. What other miracle would I ask of God?

Once Mbotela said to me; “You know Cathy, I just like you. I don’t know why.” We both laughed. I can only attribute it to finding favour with a man who shared my father’s first name Leonard.

I told his son Jimmy at his birthday party last year: “Yo’ Jimmy, I’m your other sister. You must find a way to include me in your family meetings.”

Life lessons

It has been a humbling 28 years since I met Mbotela dotted with lesson after lesson on how to stay real in a world that works too hard to make you who you are not. On how to respect work and keep its sanctity. On how to take fame with sobriety and humility. On how to live by Martin Luther King Jn words.

“If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well’.

I’m on it Majee. Never will I stop sweeping those streets, just as you wanted of me. Fare thee well till we meet again beyond the pearly gates Papa.

-Ndonye is a broadcaster at KBC and the host of ‘Sundowner’ programme