Dennis Itumbi’s Journey To Success

Dennis Itumbi is just not any other journalist/blogger out there. He has literally gone through so much to get to where he is. Rising from a young boy herding his parents and late grandparents cows, today Itumbi is an international award-winning journalist, playwright, blogger, novelist and owns a group of County newspapers, Media and Social Media Consultancy and Solutions.

In his words, this is the Kenyan Dream. As he marked his birthday two years ago, Itumbi retraced his journey to success. Take a look;

It is possible to succeed without any relative holding your hand, or even knowing someone who knows someone.

As I celebrate my Birthday today 10 years down since I first came to Nairobi on my own, I confirm its possible to dream and live a dream.

The word here is living the dream. Experiencing it. Let me share abit of the journey.

I remember my last speech as a Form Four leaving Meru School where our Motto was “In Understanding be Men” those who were in school with me will recall how we all sang to “We shall Overcome” the World that was ahead of us which we had no idea about.

Many years later I came to Nairobi, I keep saying on a Valentine Day, dressed in a shady Maroon Kaunda Suit that was a mix and match of Maroon and White, and it felt seriously smart and Hot.

I remember getting lost from Tea Room and finding myself in Ngong Avenue Two.
You see, i grew up herding cattle, an experience i value to date and thank my parents and my late grandparents for exposing me to.

There is something in knowing the basics like how to deal with artificial insemination, how to help a cow that is giving birth and has difficulties, how to harvest and sort our coffee into the different grades, how to take care of a Coffee Tree from planting, weeding through to production and the most fascinating for me how to Milk.

Like many of us here who grew up in the village,school sounded real because it taught us what we did practically, I first swam in a river, that was our natural bathroom as boys, wading away from the occasional green snakes that fell off the sugarcane plantations on both sides of the river and we had a natural scare for them, i have never known whether its scientific, but tying the arrow root tubes on your waits as you swam scared the snakes.

There were many other things that worked, when you saw a squirrel and walked back five times and made a wish it came true. A scratch on the Nail always faded bringing with it a gift either a shirt or a shoe.
Blocking the water with mud and wood to create deep ends was particularly lots of fun. Cows straying to a neighbours farm and eating up the plants and the beating you got from the neighbour and then from grandpa and parents later on was such a basic that prepared us on communal values.

It was great knowing that the only day that you could dress in immaculate shine was Sunday. The clothes worn on Sunday were special, Grandma used to lock them in her room and you would only get them on Sunday.
Sunday was a special day the only day you did not wake up to six to go the farm if it was a holiday. Sunday specials included being allowed to sleep till 8am and on that day the children were not allowed to milk, we grew being taught that literally Sunday is a no work day.

The best bit of Sunday however was that after Sunday School, we got to have soda, you see thats the only day we got to the shopping centre, 8km away from home (16km) to and from.
I have said it before it was a great experiencing the taste of Babito – especially what i thought was stone – only to learn later it was an effect of the Fridge.

Many times i have overturned while riding in a bull pulled cart – that was early life.
Later in Nairobi, together with my good friend Dennis Onsarigo, we could not afford the rent of a room in Mukuru slums valued at 3,500 as we struggled our way into survival.
Not once the room was locked and we had to seek creative ways to survive including sleeping in rooms at University of Nairobi as we hustled for the cash.

Our First jobs paid a partly 9k and less for a months work but we took it on our slide and kept our eyes on the ultimate prize.

Ethnicity was not a factor, we held different ideologies but were united by our collective dreams, later as we moved on I met Martin Gitau, a man I have literally grown up with from my days as a teenager and we together took a single room in Mbotela Slums – definitely an improvement from the former place we lived, but here we had Richard Bosire, Imende Benjamin and Kiura – t least here rent was not an issue, but I leave it to your imagination how we handled our dating and romantic lives in a single room.

Later me go back abit one day we went out with Onsarigo and the house we used to live in was on kind of a basement, we had temporarily moved to Nairobi West, it was raining. We did not know that when it rains the water gets into the room, so my good friend had gone out with his girlfriend and being the perfect gentleman he said, “ladies first”, the poor lovely gal fell into a pool of water…I rest that story there.

Click HERE to read the second and final part of this story.