Mejja is among a handful of musicians who have dominated the Kenyan airwaves for years, famous for his humorous lyrics and iconic tumblers of juice.
But behind the laughter, the legendary musician is fueled by a dark and relentless motivation: the terror of losing it all.
In a raw and unfiltered interview during his recent album listening party, the singer—real name Major Nameye Khadija—confessed that his success isn’t just about passion; it’s about survival.
Mejja admitted that he is haunted by the “ghost” of his humble beginnings and that every hit song he produces is a desperate attempt to stay one step ahead of the poverty he fought so hard to escape.
Speaking to a hushed audience of industry insiders, Mejja was brutally honest about what goes through the mind of a man who climbed out of the ghetto.
“Ukiuliza tu mtu ametoka ghetto… anakuwanga na hiyo uoga ya kurudi mahali alitoka,” Mejja explained.
“Hako kauoga hukupea motivation, mtu yeyote ametoka kwa streets anaelewa kile nasema.”
(If you ask anyone who came from the ghetto, they always have that fear of going back to where they came from. That fear in itself gives you motivation; anyone who was once in the streets understands what I am talking about.)
For Mejja, the “streets” aren’t just a place he used to live; they are a destination he refuses to revisit. He argued that while others might work for fame, he works because “hard work is not an option” when you have no safety net to catch you if you fall.
The star also touched on a deeply personal family history that few fans knew about, revealing why he feels so alone in his struggle for greatness.
In a staggering admission, Mejja shared that his mother was raised in a children’s home, meaning he grew up without the extended family support system that many Kenyans take for granted.
“Mamangu ametoka children’s home, so I don’t have an aunt. I don’t have anything,” he stated flatly.
However, despite the lack of a family tree to lean on, the Siskii singer was quick to shut down any pity parties.
“I don’t want your sympathies,” he added defiantly, making it clear that his story is one of resilience, not victimhood.
Mejja also took a swipe at his former contemporaries who abandoned the music industry when the “hustle” became too difficult. He revealed that many of the people he started his career with eventually quit to take up traditional employment—only to find themselves miserable.
The singer’s mantra for longevity is simple: patience.
“Nilianza career na watu wengi sana waligive up wakaaanza majob, and then they were not happy… they did not understand this thing; slow motion is better than no motion.” (I started my career with many people who later gave up and took up employment… they didn’t understand that slow motion is better than none.)
As he moves forward with his new album, Mejja remains a beacon for the “street survivors” of Nairobi. His message is clear: the fear of the past is the best engine for the future.
