“I met Sanusi Lamido, the former governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, when I was working as an investment banker, and he had come to speak to some of our clients in our London office. He was wearing a bow tie, and all these mzungus [white people] were hanging on to every word he said, and he was such a smart guy, and I thought, wow, maybe if I wear a bow tie I will become half as brilliant as this guy,” he says.
Twenty years later, the bow tie has been the, erm, bow to every C-suite office he has occupied. The life he is living now is far from the antecedents of his childhood in Jamhuri Estate and high school at Lenana School, which he joined because all the rugby greats seemed to come from Lenana.
He lists them, each by name: Chris Onsotti, Edward Rombo, Fred Oduor, Michael “Tank” Otieno; Kenya Harlequins, Nondescripts RFC, Impala RFC, Mean Machine. Watching him unbury the past is like taking a long drive at night with a friend; there’s that warmth and familiarity where the chat is more important than the fastest route.
If you want to know what the 70s looked like, he paints a sepia-tinted, albeit grainy-toned era when Maziwa ya Nyayo flowed flawlessly—the estates, the clean water from taps, even his sheng is old school: “Foota” for football. “Ruji” for rugby. And how they’d chapa (beat) guys.
The good times may have stopped, but the vibes certainly persist. Now, he is more measured, using the present as a torch to illuminate the past. The beauty of ageing, he says, is that you can tell where the landmines are. “And the goldmines,” he adds, adjusting his bow tie.
Nkoregamba…that name doesn’t sound “Kenyan,” if you know what I mean.
My name is Ugandan, my late father is Ugandan, and my mother is Kenyan. I grew up in Jamhuri Estate back in ‘69, I was just two years old. We moved to Kwale County after my parents retired when I was a teenager. I am just a regular guy. I attended Jamhuri Estate Primary School before joining Lenana High School.
What sticks out about growing up in Jamhuri?
Nairobi in the 70s was nice. We played foota, our estate bordered Impala Sports Ground and Quinns, the rugby club. From an early age, my mates and I played rugby in the estate; we’d host guys from Kibera and Dagoretti and Wanyee. It was quite organised.
We didn’t have any of the gadgets children have these days, we were out of the house from dawn to dusk. We’d go fishing at Three Pipes, a Kirichwa River tributary, but I think we only caught tadpoles, haha!
There was a bus that would come to the estate that had a timetable and would pick people up at exact times. The city council used to collect garbage; we used to drink water straight from the tap!
What’s a memory that remains etched in your mind from your childhood years?
The reason I went to Lenana School in the 80s is what made me who I am today. In our CPE exams, in 1980, six boys got top marks and were called to national schools.
My father had a friend in the local watering hole who happened to be the first English teacher at that school, and one day we went for lunch at Lenana School, and the guy had a big broom; he was a housemaster at the time, and he took us on a tour of the school.
When we went to the Hall of Fame area, they had pictures of the school’s greats in rugby, soccer, hockey, swimming, etc, from 1949. I saw that the rugby guys were the ones currently playing for Mean Machine, Mwamba, Impala et al.
I decided to go to Lenana. My mom went to Alliance High School—but do I say? —and she insisted I go to Alliance, but I persisted and chose Lenana. It changed everything.
What was it about rugby that struck such a chord with you in your formative years?
We never had all these PlayStations or Xboxes. We played a lot of physical games and watched a lot of live rugby games. And it was top flight. I played a bit in school, at the expense of my academic career, and my old man read the riot act, so I took a bit of a chill pill, but I really love rugby.
Did you pass the rugby gene to your children?
Unfortunately, not. I have three daughters and a son. With all these medical reports about rugby head concussions and trauma, it is a struggle to convince my wife that rugby is a good game for our boy. Maybe he’ll play golf. With contact sports, it is quite difficult to have everyone on board.
What’s your fatherhood philosophy?
I want to be better than my dad, not that he was bad, but his approach was based on caning us from an early age. He was a disciplinarian. But that’s the way he grew up.
I see myself as an enabler—see my family there? [he proceeds to bring over a framed photo of his children and wife.] The firstborn, Noni, is a chef in the US; the second born is trained as a commercial lawyer; Mwebesa is the third born, 13 years old, and finally the last born, a girl. I want them to be better than me. I am also a counsellor, and I like to be there when they have problems; they can come to me.
Beautiful family—we are not trained to say that. How are you like your father?
Haha! Stubbornness. When I believe in something, it is difficult to convince me otherwise. He lived his life according to certain principles—if he believed in something, he wasn’t easily swayed by public opinion or peer pressure.
What has fatherhood revealed to you about yourself?
I am a softie [chuckles].
You look tough!
Maybe they shouldn’t know this, but if only they knew how I have to gather myself to be tough haha! My wife is the tough one. She maintains the discipline, but I do the execution. I am the policeman, the askari.
What’s it like raising daughters today?
It’s tough. You have to talk to them about the ills out there. My eldest has been living abroad for the past 10 years since she went abroad for university.
Keeping them grounded and being there for them when they are going through a tough period, but at some point, you just have to let them grow up.
What tips do you have for surviving parenthood?
Do you ever really survive parenthood? My mother passed away last year in October; she was 84 years old. She used to pray for us daily. You remain a parent forever.
When I look at my three daughters, I have had the same relationship with them, they are spaced out—a five-year gap between the top, and then a ten-year et al.
Liberty Life Kenya Managing Director & Principal Officer Nkoregamba Mwebesa during an interview at his office in Nairobi on April 14, 2025.
Photo credit: Lucy Wanjiru | Nation Media Group
The relationship changes from a hero to an impediment, so how do you remain a parent when they become adults and get relegated to a consultant role in their lives? It will come, and you’ll adapt to it as a parent.
I have learned that boys don’t need a lot of maintenance, but you must keep an eye on them because they can get lost quite easily, as I have witnessed with friends with whom I grew up.
You are a father, husband, CEO—most of these roles are about giving. What do you get back?
If my family is happy, then I am at peace. They say happy wife, happy life haha! We are best friends with my wife, and that gives me the energy to do what I do.
As CEO, the gratification comes in being able to deliver for clients. I have been in the financial services industry from the get-go. There is a question you haven’t asked me, and I have prepared for it…
Which one?
The one thing people don’t know about me haha!
We shall get to it.
Okay. I have been a banker for a long time, and I have dealt with securities, asset management, running the stock exchange, depository, and now insurance. I want to deliver to clients, and that fires me up. I am happy with how my career has evolved.
What do you do just for you?
I play golf as my main hobby. I am not the greatest, but I get by. I won a few tournaments in my division, to be clear [chuckles]. I like to read crime fiction and espionage as well as watch a lot of crime shows.
Any particular reason?
Following the thread. How will they discover? I particularly like CSI and Law and Order. I also love music. If I had not been in the financial services, I would have been a dancer [chuckles].
I used to play drums in school and collected vinyl, cassettes, CDs, now we are in the streaming era. My music taste is eclectic, but my favourite is rhumba, although I grew up in the 80s, so soul just has its thing with me. When I am studying, I’ll be listening to classical music, I have a few favourites there. Particularly Gustav Holst.
What’s the soundtrack of your life now?
I am a bit of a romantic, so I love ballads. I am at a stage of my life where I don’t have to prove much to anyone. My favourite songs now are the 80s slow jams, and I search for rare, unpublished, and underplayed songs and what they call sophisticated R&Bs. There is a whole genre and a community on platforms like Solar Radio.
What’s the one question you are asking yourself now?
I studied Economics and Philosophy, and although I excelled, I didn’t connect with philosophy. Now I am dabbling in existentialism—after all this, what next? Maybe in my next decade, it will become more of a concern. I am 57.
I have another five years at this pace, then I start taking it easy—and then what? What is it all about? What’s the purpose? Maybe that’s why people start getting into philanthropy, but the black tax I have been subjected to over the years…
You have done your part?
Thankfully, I have done my part hahaha!
Who do you know that I should know?
That’s a tough one [long pause]. The former Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria. Sanusi Lamido Sanusi. He is the emir (Sarki) of the ancient city-state of Kano and the reason why I wear a bow tie. I have worn a bow tie to work every day for the last 20 years.
When I met Governor Senusi, I was working as an investment banker, and he had come to speak to some of our clients in our London office.
He was wearing a bow tie, and all these mzungus were hanging on to every word he said, and he was such a smart guy, and I thought, wow, maybe if I wear a bow tie, I will become half as brilliant as this guy, hahah!
Did it work?
Haha! The jury is still out.
How many bow ties do you have in your collection?
Now I have about 40. It is a dying art. I am scared that if I leave the house without a bow tie, the watchman will spread rumours that I have been fired. “Mzee hana kazi!” haha!
Did you ever tell the emir he is the reason you wear bow ties?
We met once after that, and I did tell him, while, of course, I was wearing a bow tie. There is another guy, David Mutiso, who designed the KICC, and he, too, loves wearing bow ties. You just look smarter than everyone else in the room.
By the way, have I mentioned I interviewed for the deputy governor job of the Central Bank of Kenya in 2023, and I made the final shortlist of 10 out of 77 applicants? It was very gratifying—a small boy from Jamhuri Estate has come a long way.
So, the bow tie works?
I think it does haha! You still haven’t asked me what people don’t know about me.
Go for it…
My first job offer was as a shamba boy in a hotel in Kwale, at Golden Beach Hotel, just after my A-levels. I went to the hotel, they asked for my ID, and at about noon, they came with green uniforms that gardeners don. I refused the offer and worked on our farm at home until I went to university eight months later. I was earning about 600 bob a month.
