You know how people don’t look like you imagine them? James Muraguri's voice is larger than him. He engulfs us in his larynx, drowning out the clatter of a chattering Nairobi outside. The CEO of the Institute of Public Finance, with 15 years in public finance management talks deeply about poverty, golf, tribe and culture.
“Before being Kenyan, you are your tribe and people should not apologise for that,” he says. He speaks in facts, exactly like how an accountant should.
He has made his bones, graduating from the University of London with a master’s in public finance—with no undergraduate degree.
Why is he working this hard? Poverty, he says. He hates it. So, he runs the numbers, showing where he has been. Where he is. Where he could go.
His father’s absence was his biggest presence, and he swore that his own children would know how it felt to be in his presence. He learned that from his mother. Of course, he did. He does not necessarily call himself a mother’s boy, but he would not argue with you if you did.
James Muraguri: ‘I can only love myself through golf’
What money mistake do you keep making?
I am a spendthrift.
What do you spend on?
I love gifting. I tend to veer toward more expensive gifts, especially for my friends.
What’s the most thoughtful gift you’ve received?
[Long pause] A canvas painting from my wife, celebrating 10 years of growing the institute.
Congratulations. What does it feel like to be you?
I am an adrenalin junkie when it comes to pushing the limits. I don’t believe in giving up.
Does this adrenaline translate to other aspects of your life? Like fast cars?
[Chuckles] Let’s just say I am a fast driver, in a good car. It’s an acquired taste.
What’s your pastime activity?
I play golf. I started in 2008, when I was the CEO of Youth Alive! Kenya. A friend introduced me to golf and being an introvert, he knew I’d enjoy it.
What’s your handicap?
Seventeen. It fluctuates between 13 and 18.
What has golf revealed to you?
You need quality time with yourself. Anything else is a detail.
What are you thinking about when you are playing golf?
Business. And our operations here, including our expansion plans, it’s been a decade, so I am also thinking about transition, what next?
As CEO, how do you deal with the loneliness that comes with the job?
I am lucky now because I have an adorable family—three children and a wife. I play golf, and I go home to them. We have a big team here too, so my loneliness is logged into the normal work we do.
What about your quality time? You are a boss to your employees, a husband to your wife, a father to your children. Who are you to you?
I am a friend to myself. Golf is an expression of self-love for me. The only way I can love myself is through golf.
What’s the most boring part about golf?
You’ve got to play with people you may not necessarily desire to play with, and you need to be accommodative.
Are you competitive?
No, it’s just a hobby.
Have any of your children picked up the habit?
All three. By the time they turn four, I introduce them to it. We play together, and they are now playing in the US kids’ national circuit. This introduces them to some socialisation and discipline. I hope they take it competitively.
What kind of father are you? What’s your style?
Present fatherhood. I am a disciplinarian. We had this conversation with them, and it’s clear that I am not their friend. I am their dad.
How do they take it?
We joke around about it, but they have come to love it. We have a good bond.
Did you grow up in the same way?
No. My dad worked in Nairobi while I was brought up in Karatina, Nyeri. He would come once every two months or for two weeks when he was on leave. We have developed a bond with him after his retirement. Now we are boys.
What led you to make the shift between how you were raised and how you are raising your children?
The desire to be more present. My dad was not absent out of choice, but he had to provide, and the opportunities were in Nairobi. My family is now in Nairobi, so this is just the natural system as we seek opportunities.
What does your dad think about your fatherhood?
Haha! I don’t know, but I am sure he is wondering how I am bringing up the children. We don’t talk about that.
What do you talk about?
His past, how he grew up, and how he never finished school because of the Mau Mau Revolution. And his life experiences.
Would you fill your father’s shoes?
I can’t. He provided for five of us, I only have three. He toiled, doing menial jobs in the city just to bring us up. He took loans to take us to school. I cannot get to his level.
What do you miss most about your childhood?
Just being a villager. The village life is incomparable—being in the community and I see my children missing that by being in the city. We are closed because we don’t know who to trust. Our parents just let us be back then, we would walk seven kilometres to and from school. Now, we can’t do that with our children.
How are you then acquainting them with their roots?
We visit the upcountry. I am a proud Gikuyu man. Before being Kenyan, you are your tribe and people should not apologise for that. I teach my children the Kikuyu language, watch the news in Kikuyu, and just show them that before you are, there was. Muacha mila ni mtumwa. There are great Kikuyu traditions I would like my children to understand.
What is your biggest fatherhood struggle?
Looking at my children and trying to be a good role model. There is so much they see on TV, so being available as a good steward and an organised and respectable father are my struggles. The values we grew with are not the ones they are growing with.
What would you teach other men about fatherhood?
My daughter just turned 10. I would teach other men that it is about being present. Show up for your children—be it birthdays, sports, events, et al. What they do when you show up has nothing to do with you, just show up.
Presence seems important to you. Who filled the gap when your father was away?
My mother. She is a strong woman, bearing the burden of my father. She is a businesswoman—she plugged the gap. I will not deny that I am a momma’s boy—we have a special bond.
Did you end up marrying your mom as your wife?
Haha! Perhaps. I have an amazing spouse.
What struck you about her? Why do you keep choosing her all these years?
She is respectful and she is full of life. I cannot match her energy. I am an introvert, and her energy keeps drawing me in.
What is the best part about being a husband in this day and age?
It’s a respected presence.
What’s a special treat you do just for you—not you as a husband or father, just you?
Music. And podcasts. Especially business podcasts like the Founders Podcast, where established businesses talk about how they have established their business and the challenges they face. But I am a reggae guy. Any day. F2 in town? We were there, haha!
Have you been to a reggae concert lately?
No. As I have grown, I have appreciated being and enjoying that moment by myself. If we are with my friends, I’ll be the one in charge of the playlist, playing reggae music. It is conscious music.
What’s the soundtrack of your life?
Sins of The Fathers by UB40.
When you get to where you are going, where will you be?
I desire to inform the course of how governments plan and prioritise resources. But I am also very keen on investments in the health sector. I am a keen investor in business in the market and off the market. When I get there, I will be in a position to heavily influence public policy to create a better business environment and support the entrepreneurial ecosystem.
Institute of Public Finance CEO James Muraguri at a company event in 2023.
Photo credit: File | Nation Media Group
What do you have that others don’t?
The degree of grit and discipline. We all have grit and discipline, it’s the degree that is different. I am a founder because I took a greater risk, stayed disciplined and pumped my grit further.
What are you chasing or running away from?
I am running away from poverty. I would go to Kibera for our work, and I would see the conditions people live in and I would like to support at least one person out of that. I run away from poverty by working twice as hard, and I am chasing opportunities for myself and others. When we have new business at IPF, we hire an extra person—that is another household supported.
What is it about poverty that scares you?
Inability to access critical services like medicare. I am privileged that on the days I slept without food, I had a packet of milk for tea. No one wants to be poor; it is scarce opportunities that drive people there. I am privileged to be able to create opportunities for young people.
What do you have that money can’t buy?
Good health.
Can one have it all?
At my age, no. What I have used to be a dream. Now I am chasing higher glory. You can never have it all.
What is your one insecurity as a man?
Inability to provide for my family.
Poverty in other words?
Exactly, haha!
Do you think, man to man, the inability to provide makes you less of a man?
Let’s qualify that: it’s inability to provide what? Every man provides something, especially those with a family. I don’t think it makes you less of a man, but the inability to provide is a glorified failure. I want my children to go to a good schools, a better hospital because perhaps the public one does not have the provisions. Society will challenge you, that the other person is doing better than you and that touches on men’s egos. Why can’t you do like so and so? That is the trigger that makes people feel less of a man and not the inability to provide.
Would you say this is rooted in seeing your dad work so hard to provide, and now it is manifesting itself through you, consciously or unconsciously?
Yes. My old man struggled to provide, where we would sleep with our sheep. You want to provide better and I didn’t pass so I never went to university, seeing my friends progress and here I was in the streets—if you look at that trajectory, you want to run away by working twice as hard.
What has been your biggest “win” so far?
The Institute of Public Finance, creating a platform against all odds. This discipline [public finance] is not offered in any Kenyan university, I have taught myself online and through mentorship programmes with established peers. We have trained people and invested in our staff and now we are a respected band in public finance as a think-tank. In the midst of that, I got my master’s in public finance from the University of London without an undergraduate degree.
What will the villager in you tell the city boy now?
Equality and equity are important. Given equal chances, there won’t be a city boy and villager.
What will people mourn about you when you are gone?
My presence. I am deliberate. I show up for myself. That M-Pesa message is irrelevant if you don’t show up. My epitaph will read, “Here is a man who was present.”
Who has your back?
James Muchiri, our board chairman. He is a man I go to when I am strategising, visualising, he is on my speed dial.
What is something I wouldn’t believe about you?
For the last 10 years, I have not fired anyone at IPF. People have left for better opportunities, because I have an incredible team, they leave for better and bigger institutions.
One could argue that is HR’s job, to fire?
Yes, but even then, we didn’t have HR until two years ago when the business was growing. Even then we have not fired anyone. people don’t leave when they come to IPF.
If you could tell me just one thing, what would you tell me?
Remain hopeful. I am a highway-optimistic and highway-hopeful person and I take all my shots. Especially in business. The worst thing that can happen is 'no.
Who do you know that I should know?
James Muchiri, my board chairman. The Reverend Edward Buri. They are two amazing people who are bold enough and honest enough in my interactions with them.
