When Celina, the beloved sister of Joseph Kamarú, bid farewell to the stage and embraced the quiet of matrimony, she also stepped away from the limelight of the Kamaru Celina Band. Time rolled on, and with each passing day, the distance between the two siblings grew; not just in miles, but in heart. Kamarú carried the weight of that absence like a silent song, unsung but always echoing within him.
“…Kuuma Celina wiitu ahika Ndiui kana gwake kuri itara Ndingimenya iri ine Kana itari Ya Muhiriga ona ya nyunjuri ndi mi ui…”
But fate, ever the unseen composer, strummed a different chord. A message, borne from the hills of Embu and destined for the bustle of the capital, arrived. Celina, now a wife, sought her brother’s voice; not in song, but in counsel. Her marriage stood on trembling ground, and she longed for Kamarú to bridge the chasm between her and her husband.
Seizing the moment with a heart full of brotherly duty, Kamarú set wheels in motion. He summoned his friend, DK wa Maria, to accompany him on the journey. While Kamarú would glide in his signature Mercedes, DK was to follow in his trusty Citroën. At the break of dawn, the two troubadour rolled for the countryside.
Joseph Kamarú 🎵 “Twaumire Nairobi thaa ithatu Ndumaniirwo ni mwari wa maitu Mahitanitie na muthuuri we Ngithima wiiro nginya maguta Ngiira D.K anyumagarie Naguo mwiiro Cia miaraho nguria Karatina” 🎵
DK wa Maria 🎵 “Kamaru anjira ndimumagarie, Na nií ndamwirire anjeterere, Ní amú ndiari nyungu yari riko Ndiari mwana ndaheaga irigú Ngiuga Nairobi Kamarú atarí kúo ndiímitinda…” 🎵
As they approached Jomoko in Thika, two schoolgirls Wambuí and Wanjiku stood at the roadside, their faces bright with the innocence of youth and the thrill of holiday escape. Their thumbs up, their eyes wide they were hitching a ride to Murang’a. Kamarú, never to ignore damsels, invited them in. But to preserve his anonymity, he played the part of a humble chauffeur behind the wheel of his own iconic ride.
“…Itanakinya Thika kwa pineapple Ngiona airiitu eri na mathanduku Makinjiira ndimahe lift Na nií ngimoria marorete ku? Makiuga maraumira Murang’a ií Ta kihaice ií Na Kamaru angimenya no kubutwo
Tuthiite uguo tugiteretaga Ni ndamoririe maritwa mao Umwe akinjiira etagwo Wambui Uria ungi akiuga etagwo Wanjiku Na kwao ni mucií wa Kangema Moimite Mangu, Cukuru mainukite holiday…”
As the morning ripened into afternoon, DK was suddenly reminded of another rendezvous, one of the heart. His Kamba lover awaited in Tala. With a sly nod and a parting glance, he waved goodbye to Kamarú and turned his Citroën toward love’s calling.
🎶 “Kamarú arí mbere na nií thútha, Twatiganire twakinya Thika, Ngiunira Kamarú ritho ngiuga, Akone Celina areke ngone ndari Yakwa iri Tala, ina muthece ndioyagira ingi…” 🎶
Kamarú pressed on, unaware that this road, paved with good intentions, would soon unravel into misadventure. At Murang’a, the schoolgirls finally realized they had been chauffeured by the legendary Kamarú himself. But by the time he reached Karatina, his heart ached; not for the journey ahead, but for Wambuí, he didn’t make a move for the damsel.
Misfortune struck at Mathioya his Mercede ride succumbed to a broken clutch cable. There, beneath the dimming sky, Kamarú was stranded until nightfall, when Raphael, a friend ferrying cabbages to Mombasa, hauled him and his broken dreams back to Nairobi.
Í nake DK ní akínyíre ?
His journey to Tala was not without its own twist. Upon arrival, he indulged in two for the road liquid courage, perhaps before setting off to meet his love. But fate, again, intervened at the bus stop. A vision of beauty stood waiting, and DK, ever the romantic, offered her a ride. She accepted, and as she stepped into the Citroën,
Ndathire kwona ndari yake…
🎵 “Ndakinya Tala ngiuga ngunde kamwe, Nginyua tucuba twiri twa heho naguo mwiiro, Githari nguthií kúría kwa mwendwa…
Hindi iria ndethagathaga guthií Ngiona kairetu kena riri karungií stage ya mbathi Ona itari muhoe lift ngihanda ngari, Ngiuria mwari mwega athuirwo nu? Kairíítu karuta mbia ndakerire cokia mbia mondo, kanini kega Mwari mwega ndarihagio ngari…” 🎶
If you know what happened next… you are my friend
As for Kamarú, he was left to ponder the wisdom he’d later share:
“Ngari itiri mwago ona mwaciona.”
