The first radio broadcast signal in Kenya went out in 1928. At the time, the Kenya Broadcasting Service — which later became the Voice of Kenya (VoK) and eventually the Kenya Broadcasting Corporation (KBC) — primarily served settler colonialists. Its reach was limited, and broadcasts were largely in English.
It was not until the 1950s and 1960s that Kiswahili and local languages such as Luo, Kikuyu, Kalenjin, Somali, Luhya and Kisii began to feature more prominently. During the Mau Mau Emergency, African-language broadcasting was used to counter Mau Mau messaging, promote loyalty to the colonial government, disseminate official directives and shape public opinion.
After independence, radio became a powerful and accessible medium for Kenyans. It educated, entertained and informed a nationwide audience at a time when alternative forms of mass communication were scarce. For many years, radio was the country’s primary source of information and entertainment. If something had not been announced on radio, many believed it had not happened.
A radio station.
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Those without radio sets often gathered at neighbours’ homes to listen. Radio broadened horizons, connecting remote communities to national and global affairs. Through it, Kenyans became familiar with international figures such as Henry Kissinger, Margaret Thatcher and Richard Nixon.
Few individuals embody the evolution of Kenyan radio like Fred Obachi Machoka, popularly known as Uncle Fred, arguably the country’s most recognisable and longest-serving broadcaster. Now in his 50th year in media, Machoka was born on September 9, 1953 and joined the Kenya Police Service around 1970, serving in the General Service Unit (GSU).
In 1975, while stationed in the Northern Frontier District (now North Eastern Kenya), he entered a VoK listener competition titled “Sanyo Juu Sanyo Tops” and won a radio set. When he travelled to Nairobi to collect his prize, a producer noticed his distinctive voice and asked whether he had considered radio hosting. Although he declined due to his police career, he agreed to record short promotional segments about electronics, drawing on his background in police communications.
“They offered me a five-minute segment. I asked if they would pay me and they said yes,” he recalls. “In December 1976, I resigned from the force and joined radio fully.”
He began his career as a commercial broadcaster, recording programmes in studios such as High Fidelity Production International and Polygram Records. Presenters relied heavily on producers for technical execution. In live broadcasting, however, he operated equipment himself — reel-to-reel tapes, turntables, cassette players and later CDs — physically selecting and cueing each record.
Listener interaction was very different then. Call-ins were rare until the late 1990s and early 2000s, when mobile telephony expanded. Competitions required participants to post answers to designated programme numbers, sometimes waiting weeks for responses.
Over time, Machoka trained under veteran broadcasters and studied public relations and advertising, grounding himself in what he calls radio’s three pillars: to entertain, educate and inform.
Veteran media personality Fred Obachi Machoka
Photo credit: Pool
News bulletins kept the public updated on national and global events. Programmes such as Mke Nyumbani offered homemaking guidance, Mkulima Shambani provided agricultural advice, and School Broadcast supported classroom learning.
Machoka believes the educational pillar has weakened in today’s industry. With over 200 radio stations operating, he argues that commercial pressure has shifted the focus towards ratings rather than professional standards. “When you sacrifice professionalism, you dilute the content,” he says.
One aspect Machoka misses is anonymity. Because many programmes were pre-recorded, he could stand among crowds while his show aired, quietly observing reactions without revealing himself.
He attributes his longevity to passion and discipline and considers himself his own most loyal listener: if content does not entertain him, it will not entertain others. He emphasises research, adaptability and maintaining audience trust while reaching new listeners.
“I have two pillars,” he says. “First, God — pray. Second, family — they guide and support you.” In an era of shrinking attention spans and competing distractions, he believes today’s presenters must work even harder to keep audiences engaged.
Enter disruption and new age presenting
Shatta Bway, born Stephen Jacob Maunda, host of Nation FM’s #RockersNation, grew up in the shadow of a broadcasting legend. His father, the late Kenyan veteran journalist, broadcaster and musician Jacob Williams Maunda, trained him and his eight brothers in radio presenting from an early age.
Their father would bring scripts home from work and ask the boys to imitate his delivery. It became a friendly competition.
“We used to compete on who would do the best imitation of our dad. We would all pay attention when he was on radio, then narrate it back to him. He would pick one of us and say, ‘You did it right,’” Shatta recalls.
One of his fondest memories is a small but powerful radio his father brought home during the 2002 Fifa World Cup. The family would gather around it, listening intently to live football commentary.
Despite this upbringing, Shatta did not initially want a career in radio. After the family moved upcountry, he and his siblings attended school barefoot, often in torn uniforms. Classmates and even some teachers mocked them for having a famous father who appeared on radio and in music, yet struggling financially.
Radio presenter Shatta Bway.
Photo credit: Pool
“They didn’t know my father was the only one in his extended family with formal employment and was supporting many relatives. His income was really stretched,” he explains.
Yet radio followed him even in the fields. While grazing cattle, his friends fashioned a mock radio and microphone from a box and a maize cob, asking him to commentate imaginary football matches. He would describe the action with such animation that his friends erupted in celebration at his fictional goals.
For higher education, Shatta studied law and later theology, driven by a natural inclination to help others solve their problems. He realised his purpose was to guide people — to teach them how to avoid pitfalls and improve their lives. Along the way, he ventured into voice-over work and recorded a radio demo.
Three years later, in 2015, he received a call inviting him to Royal Media Services, where he met Simaloi Dajomm, now Head of Broadcasting at Nation Media Group. Initially, he assumed he was participating in a survey.
“The first question she asked was, ‘What do you think about the radio station?’ I said it sounded big, but it didn’t fit the youth perspective. Presenters were addressing young people the way they used to address the youth of yesteryears. We needed someone who understood our issues. I spoke a lot — I just had to vent,” he says.
He was then introduced to the director of radio and answered questions in Sheng. Asked what he would do differently if given a show, his response was clear: “I would speak to the youth; I wouldn’t speak at them.”
He felt many presenters lectured young people — criticising them for “hanging around the base” instead of hustling — without recognising that the economic landscape had changed. Opportunities were different, and young people needed guidance relevant to their reality.
After two weeks shadowing in the studio, he was given a mid-morning show on a three-month contract. The station was trying to reclaim a youthful Nairobi audience dominated by a rival station. Shatta made a bold move: he introduced reggae into a slot previously known for slower, “safe” music.
“They weren’t sure about what I was doing. Even on air, they didn’t announce us as new presenters — they said the previous show was on break,” he recalls.
Defying traditional media training, which discourages emotional involvement, Shatta personalised news segments. He would respond to bulletins with his own reflections, speaking from a youth perspective. Management cautioned him for potentially putting news anchors in an awkward position.
“I never considered myself a news presenter or entertainer; I always saw myself as a youth. I knew there were millions reasoning like me, so let our voices be heard.” He later rebranded himself as “Shatta Bway — The Official Youth Voice.”
Despite his growing profile, he continued spending time in the communities he represented, listening to conversations often absent from mainstream media. For example, he highlighted complaints about bedbugs in matatu seats — an issue he would not have encountered had he distanced himself from everyday commuters.
#RockersNation, which airs from 8pm to 10pm, reflects Nation FM’s rebranded slogan, “Your voice, your vibe”. Reggae — sometimes dismissed as rebellious — found a home alongside football discussions and life conversations. Shatta imagined his typical listener as a young man living in a bedsitter with his partner and infant child, navigating unemployment and daily pressures. His aim was to offer practical solutions.
One taxi driver told him, “After the football, which hooks me there, you also teach me how to live peacefully with my wife.”
Each day has a focus: Mondays address the boy child, Tuesdays are inclusive, Wednesdays focus on the girl child, Thursdays are nostalgic, and Fridays are for fun.
His audience has evolved into a community. “They’re not just fans — we’ve become a family,” he says.
Older listeners have also embraced the show. A pastor thanked him for addressing youth mental health during Covid-19. Older women have stopped him to say his work helps them understand their children.
Modern radio, he notes, is no longer “blind media”. With visual platforms and social media, presenters must become brands. Appearance, values and authenticity matter. “You are no longer just a presenter — you must look like your movement,” he says, adding that presenters must however stay in control of the movement.
