Eliel Mambo’s love for music dates back to his childhood days in Nairobi.
“One of my earliest influences was in the early 2000s when I first heard 50 Cent playing on our radio and my uncle using a stethoscope to mimic headphones attached to the radio’s speaker. Music has always been around me, and it is no surprise that I find myself here,” he says.
The musical fire in his belly was ignited then. By the time he was 10, he was experimenting with sounds on the school keyboard.
“I’d be pressing the DJ button, playing around with drum packs,” he says. “That’s really where it began, those two moments remind me where I come from musically.”
For the last five years, Eliel Mambo, 27, has been learning, perfecting skills, and producing Grime. This popular genre draws its influence from UK garage (another genre) typified by minimal, prominent rhythm and vocalised by an MC. “Grime is gritty. “It’s bar for bar, wordplay, DJ sets, energy — just power and feeling. It’s not as popular now as it was six, seven years ago, but it’s still alive. It just lives in different spaces — like YouTube battles or rap-dance hybrids. Without grime, we wouldn’t have UK drill. It’s the foundation.”
Mambo is part of the music production trio Sound Dealers based in Nottingham city in the United Kingdom. By day, Mambo is a prison officer and satiates his passion for hours after work in a studio in one of his friends’ houses.
“It surprises people when I say that,” but I am a producer and a prison officer,” says Mambo. “Luckily, I don’t take work home. When I leave the office, my music brain just switches on. Whether I’m going to the studio or going home, I just relax, clean up, and from there, it’s music.”
He spends two or three evenings a week at the studio, producing, mixing, and collaborating with the other two Sound Dealers. Together, they experiment with sounds that blend R&B and grime, “trying to bring that sound out of the city. “I’ve watched sounds come and go, styles fade away,” he says. “That’s what keeps me unique. Because uniqueness lasts longer than the individual.”
Eliel Mambo, 27-year-old Grime Producer in Nottingham, UK, September 2025.
Photo credit: Pool
He describes his creative process as both structured and spontaneous. Sometimes inspiration comes from a song he hears; other times, a melody just appears in his head mid-walk. “I’ll voice note it if I’m not home,” he says. “Other times, it’s just trial and error — pulling up a sound, whether it’s strings, piano, or drums, and trying to make something happen from nothing.”
His musical journey has been about resilience and identity. “Sometimes I start a beat, and I’m not feeling it. But I keep pushing. I remind myself that if I don’t do it, someone else will — and they might do it just as well. That keeps me going. It’s also about being your biggest fan. You’ve got to believe in your own sound.”
For an outsider looking in, Mambo sits at both ends of the seesaw plank. Maintaining a delicate balance buoyed by his work in the prisons and the magic he seeks to create in the production studio, but for him, it is much more than a perceived balance. “It’s almost therapeutic. Music is my way of resetting.”
His style in the studio is playful. “People think I’m serious, but I’m actually hilarious. Very unserious, in fact.” That ease and humour, he believes, is what keeps his creative fire alive. “Art thrives on play. It’s not meant for the kind of seriousness that happens in offices.”
In his recent visit to Kenya, Mambo had a chance to watch Jua Cali perform. This experience was surreal and a little euphoric for him. Jua Cali is among many artistes whose music has shaped the way Mambo looks at Kenyan music.
“Kenya’s early 2000s artistes Jua Cali, Nonini, Nameless, the late E-Sir, and the rest of that era have shaped my sound. That’s where our roots are, even as musicians to this day. I’m sure there’s a lot of timeless music from way back when — if it’s heard now, it’ll just create a different kind of energy.”
In terms of exploring collaborations locally, he is keen to work with artistes not just in Kenya, but in Africa and the African diaspora in other parts of the world.
He recently met with Kodong Clan and was thoroughly impressed with the growth of their music, workmanship and work ethic they put into the craft. Such opportunities, Mambo says, can catapult cross-border music synergies into meaningful future engagements.
“There are so many influences we can borrow from each other, both geographies have great potential and directions that, when shared, can elevate the musical experiences we both have.”
Mambo’s sound borrows liberally from history. He samples Rick James, 50 Cent, Michael Jackson — even soul and funk records from the 1970s and 80s. “Sampling is about nostalgia. You bring old music into the new, and it’s like giving it life again.”
His dream is to extend this philosophy to Kenyan music — to sample and remix the sounds of the past. “I’d start with Jua Cali, for sure. But I also want to go back to the 70s and 80s. That’s where our roots are. If people hear that music now, it’ll create a different energy, because it’s timeless.”
Beyond the beats, he thinks of his music as an experience and would want it to mean more than just finished projects. “I want people to dance, but I also want them to heal. Music is therapy. Whether you’re sad, happy, or grieving — music puts things into perspective. Healing isn’t just about fixing pain; sometimes it’s about elevating joy.”
Mambo says his current visit to Kenya feels like an introduction. “I feel like I’m getting an introduction this time,” he says. “If something can spark this year, it would be fantastic. If not, next year — still fantastic.”
In the coming days, he hopes to collaborate with Kenyan artistes, share production skills, and bring grime’s grit into Africa’s evolving soundscape.
“I think it could create space for a new sound, even if it influences just Kenya or the wider diaspora of Africa, it would be amazing. I’m excited to see that happen.” He hopes that through making such forays into the music space in Kenya and Africa, the experience will nurture a cross-cultural conversation where the versatility of grime will meet the groove of Africa’s diverse sounds.
When Mambo is not behind the console or at his day job, he’s likely out for a walk, a drive, or at the gym. He reads often, spends time with friends, and — true to his roots — eats mukimo (mashed potatoes)“with a good stew.”
“I love being home,” he says of Kenya. “Every time I come back, I feel that energy again — the same one I felt when my uncle was blasting 50 Cent through a stethoscope. That’s the energy I try to put in my music.”
