I have always loved Chelele; she was one of the first female musicians to be bold.
One of her favorite songs came out when I was becoming an adult. I would blast her music on weekends on campus as I did laundry and cleaning. Her anger was something else; the woman could insult you to oblivion, daaaamn. There’s a song of hers dedicated solely to insults. Looking back at the Kalenjin community and the place of women, she really was bold and fearless.
Then she fell in love, that thing we all admire to get, the thing that runs the world, and has become the headlines forever.
In one of her songs, she talks about how they met and how she felt loved, and you can hear her mention who she was when they met. She drank alcohol and partied; he knew that when he pursued her. She asks him not to share her love, if only love listens.
Fast forward a few years later, she sings about the way he was asking her why she drank like she didn’t know. She even insults her rival, telling her to come taste the marriage and see if she could handle it. How fast does love change, that all those praises resulted in death? The horror that is passion is scary, yet the leading passion still remains the desire to be happy in whichever way works.
She sang about how much she did to try and fix the marriage, and you can hear the choice of words. That laugh of hers quickly became so irritating that she called him DJ Mix because of how many words he said. She even wonders if he forgot where he found her.
She promised to move on to avoid dying; if only her plan had worked. She was a movement; her beat, her choice of vixens, and the lessons in her music were amazing. She would have thrived and risen beyond this country. She had a way with her music, humor, and power.
Whoever said the grave holds the best of dreams was on to something.
She sang in Kalenjin, Swahili , English, and Kikamba. Talented is understating it; she was an icon, our very own unicorn.
Once in a while, I listen to her music. As a reminder that you can be so powerful, and your choices can end your life in a heartbeat.
Your talent, the gifts, and that thing you are good at will be the reason someone will love you. It will also be the reason the world will drag you and end you.
This is for women who have one foot out and one in: find a mirror and look long and hard at yourself. Ask if you are ready to be done, and those who keep going back should hope that you do not become a statistic. There is a reason you leave the first time, and if that doesn’t change by the time you come back, please know it never will.
She was a mother, a sister, and a daughter. She often reminded fans that she was Binti Osama. Our community loved her, and when she rested, Bomet town was at a standstill. I can tell you about old men who went to her funeral, people who don’t usually go to social functions. It rained that day, and the venue was still overflowing with people.
Life is precious. I hope that one day we go back to valuing it and appreciating other people even when we don’t agree with them.
Chiry Writes 