Colonel Mustapha was once a towering figure in the Kenyan music scene. He began his journey as one half of the iconic duo, Deux Vultures, a group that delivered some of the most memorable tracks in Kenyan music history. Their sound, crafted under the guidance of Ogopa DJs, defined the Kapuka genre—a beat and rhythm that marked the soundtrack of an entire generation. While younger audiences today may stumble upon his music by chance, older generations remember dancing the night away to his hits, both as part of Deux Vultures and as a solo artist.
Mustapha came up during a time when the Kenyan music industry was more of a collective of urban dreamers than a structured business. Despite the lack of financial infrastructure, his generation pushed boundaries and laid the foundation for the vibrant music industry that thrives today. Yet, as is often the case, pioneers rarely enjoy the fruits of their labor. They plant the seeds but seldom get to rest under the shade of the trees they grow.
Determined and resilient, Mustapha transitioned smoothly from group fame to solo stardom. He consistently released hits, captivating audiences with his unique blend of style and lyrical prowess. His personal life, too, was in the public eye—his relationship with Mariah, though tumultuous, became part of his story. Even after their split, he remained relevant, transitioning to reality TV and social media prominence alongside Noti Flow.
But somewhere along the journey, life took a turn. Financial struggles began to mount, and opportunities grew scarce. In a country where economic stability is often fragile, Mustapha found himself struggling to make ends meet. He reached out to former friends and peers in the entertainment industry, seeking support, but was met with silence. Calls went unanswered, and doors that were once open seemed firmly shut.
Faced with mounting pressure and the need to provide for his family, he swallowed his pride and took up work in construction—what is locally known as ‘mjengo.’ For many, this kind of struggle happens quietly, away from prying eyes. But for Mustapha, whose life had been so publicly celebrated, there was no privacy in his fall from grace. His plight became a spectacle—a cautionary tale wrapped in schadenfreude. Yet, this exposure also became his lifeline, with support coming from unexpected corners. Social media rallied behind him, leading to a few influencer deals that offered temporary relief.
Even so, generosity is often fleeting, and the well of goodwill is running dry. Now, more than ever, Mustapha is reaching out to those he once called friends. The people who once crowded around him for pictures and partied to his music are nowhere to be found. It is a harsh reality—one that underscores the fragility of networks built in the glare of fame.
Whether his story takes a positive turn or spirals further remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that his journey serves as a mirror reflecting the fickle nature of fame and the brutal isolation that often follows its fading light.
