When Alicios Theluji first captured East African audiences with Mpita Njia in 2012, her Swahili-Lingala fusion voice felt like a refreshing breeze, equal parts soulful and grounded in tradition.
But behind the silky vocals was a childhood marked by exile, a career defined by pauses as much as by hits, and a heart that beats for two countries; Congo and Kenya.
Singer Alicios performing on stage during the United Sounds of Africa concert headlined by Nigerian Artist Runtown held at the Carnivore on October 2017.
Photo credit: File | Nation
Born in Goma, Eastern DRC, her early years were scarred by loss, the tragic death of her father in a car accident when she was just four, and displacement, as her family fled the Congo War to Nairobi in 1996. What was meant to be a temporary exile stretched into decades, and Nairobi became home.
Now residing in Stockholm, Sweden, Alicios is making a return to music with ‘Ligi Kali’, a playful ode to Nairobi’s tricky dating scene, proving that no matter where she lives, part of her will always be this ‘Nairobian girl’.
SINDA MATIKO sat down with her to talk about home, music, exile, and why she never records for money.
Singer songwriter Alicios Theluji performing on stage during the United Sounds of Africa concert headlined by Nigerian Singer Runtown on October 14, 2017.
Photo credit: FIle | Nation
You were only six when your family fled Congo. What do you remember about that journey?
We thought it would be temporary. We lived among the Congolese community in Nairobi, always believing we would go back once things calmed down. But the war worsened. That’s when we realised we weren’t going back. Even today, I don’t officially hold refugee status anymore, but because Congo is still bleeding, it’s hard for me not to feel like a refugee.
How did this early displacement shape who you became as an artist?
You know, when you're constantly moving between worlds, from one culture to another, you learn to find pieces of yourself everywhere. Goma gave me my roots, Kinshasa taught me resilience, but Nairobi? Nairobi gave me my voice. It’s where I spent my formative years, where I truly discovered who I was as an artiste. I’ll always be a “Nairobian” girl, and you hear that in my music.
Alicios's childhood was defined by tragedy and displacement, fleeing the Congo War to Nairobi at age six.
Photo credit: File | Nation
Yet, at a time when your career seemed to be taking off, you stepped back. Why?
Life happened. There are times for everything. I needed to grow in other areas of life, be present for my loved ones, raise my children, study, and work. I got a degree in political science, worked with a non-profit helping young mothers in Eastern Congo, and even served with the Swedish government investigations department. I didn't think of it as stepping away from music; I just lived my life as it came.
Some might argue you stepped back because of the financial struggles in music?
Not at all. I’ve never done music for money. Like I pointed out before, the first song I ever recorded, I didn’t even release. It was meant to be for myself, for my future grandchildren. Music is food for me. It feeds me creatively and emotionally. If it were only about money, I would have never taken a break.
You’re now back with ‘Ligi Kali’, a song that tackles Nairobi's dating scene. What was the inspiration?
I missed Nairobi. Even miles away in Sweden, I cannot stop thinking about Kenya. She will always be home. So, it felt right to make a comeback in a little bit of sheng after such a long silence. Being a “Nairobian”, I thought of doing this song about those tricky relationships in the city, the ones that are never as simple as they seem. Huko nje ni kubaya sana, uki sleki unageuziwa serikali (it’s really bad out there, if you slack, you lose your lover)! Personally, kiliniramba (I experienced this), but I'm in a better place now.
Singer Alicios Theluji.
Photo credit: File | Nation
Talking about money, is the industry in a better place now for artistes compared to when you started?
Of course, I’ve earned from music. It has paid me well, especially when I toured Europe. But like most musicians and artistes on our continent, I have not been paid every dollar or shilling I am owed. If I had been, I would have had a big farm in Kisumu and a mansion in Mombasa. There are still many gaps in the music industries of most African countries. We all know this. Some blame lies with the artistes, but most of it doesn't. It's due to the lack of robust, proper structures in our industries, as exists in the West. With proper infrastructure, we shouldn't have to work so hard to reap the fruits of our labour.
What’s your prayer for DR Congo?
Well, I’m no longer a refugee, but the place my parents called home and fled from is still bleeding, and that hurts. Without peace in Congo, it is difficult for someone like me not to feel like a refugee. The happenings in my country still overwhelm me. It's traumatising to see that even after all these years, Congo is still bleeding.
