Kevin Mutiso remembers the good old days when men could make a living with their hands, when a shilling was a shilling and when everyone dreamed of studying abroad. He was no different, but life, through kismet, stymied his desires, and so he stayed in Kenya.
A few months later, at just 21, he was a father and had to “grow up”—his words.
He was a truculent teenager, you see. He drank too much, partied too hard, ate what could be eaten, doctors be damned—the hallmarks of a life still under construction. At 30, he rediscovered his past paramours: swimming, sauna, and ditched the epicurean appetite.
“I cut sugar, potatoes, and quit smoking,” he says. “Actions have consequences, and this body of mine is the reaction to my actions in the 20s.”
The poisoned chalice of youth is not the ability to do whatever one wills, but the belief that there is nothing one will not do. Yet sooner or later, everyone must bend the knee to Father Time. This is the utter futility of the human condition, also known as the aging process.
And while Mutiso is a busy man—setting up a global tea business while running Oye and the Digital Financial Services Association of Kenya (DFSAK) —he would never trade his time with family for a handshake with a billionaire. Not for all the tea in China.
Six million shillings for a mortgage when I was 24.
How was that like?
I don’t think it was a good decision. Mortgage anchors you. I was paying a big bullet payment before I could understand the point of it. The pro is that I always had a house to sleep in, and in six years, I had built up some equity that allowed me to survive when the going got tough. I sold everything in 2020, even my old clothes [chuckles].
What’s a difficult lesson you’ve learned about money?
Money is not emotional. Don’t make it part of who you are—be who you are with or without it.
Money talks, what does yours say?
Money is power. It is currency and a tool to help you achieve your mission in life.
What’s the dumbest thing you’ve spent your money on?
Haha! A Mercedes E-class, when I was 25. It was a fuel guzzler with high maintenance, a status symbol I didn’t need.
What led you to buy a Mercedes?
I was just trying to be cool. When I was younger, I was quite insecure in terms of social status and being a man. I wanted to attract the ladies and be considered part of this cool clique. I grew out of it.
How so?
Self-awareness. One of my favourite rappers, Jay Z, in an interview, talked about being self-aware and having those moments of reflection and asking yourself those tough questions: Is this who I am? Is this what I am about? I realised I wasn’t—I am a chilled guy who loves business, talking business, and reading about business.
Jay Z also sang, ‘It’s a hard knock life’. Was it a hard knock life for you growing up?
I am privileged and I am proud of that background. I didn’t struggle growing up. I came from a fantastic, loving home. The way we look at it is our grandmother made a lot of the early sacrifices for the family, which meant my dad could go to school, and that gave us exposure and access to books. I remember Sundays after church, we’d go to Textbook Centre. If anything, I am trying to live up to the family legacy.
Are those shoes too big to fill?
My grandmother was the first matriarch and my father is the current patriarch. I don’t want to be a patriarch because that means somebody has to go. I want to maintain the status quo for as long as possible, but we’ve been raised to be ready to do what is necessary. Our family has a strategic plan, we work hard, and we do the Mutiso name proud.
Kevin Mutiso, CEO of Oye and chairman of the Digital Financial Services Association of Kenya during the interview on July 15, 2025.
Photo credit: Francis Nderitu | Nation Media Group
What is an early fatherhood lesson from your father that has been a lighthouse for you?
My father still says, ‘Mediocre is easy. Excellence is what you should pursue.’ Everyone is trying to be average, but excellence differentiates you, and if you pursue it long enough, the compounding gains start to show.
Two, actions have consequences. I was a difficult teenager. I was smoking cigarettes by age of 16 and my parents just said, “If you want to die of cancer, that’s up to you.” When I got my baby at a young age. I first called my father. He made it clear that the expenses of that child were on my shoulders; he was not here to raise another generation. I had to deal with the consequences of my early endeavours [chuckles].
What changed in you as a young father?
I had never applied myself before. I was okay being average—all I wanted to do was play basketball. The baby taught me long-term and strategic thinking. A baby must eat, school fees, medical, and that made me start exerting effort. It was hard, but the best thing that probably happened to me.
What would you change about how you were raised?
I wish we had learned how to speak Kikuyu and Kamba. My parents wanted us to have a global perspective, and they went out of their way to ensure we didn’t learn local languages. Who knows, maybe it would not have given us the perspective we have now [chuckles].
How are you raising your children differently?
Not so much, I am still inculcating the same values. I am worse than my dad, I think. I give them a bit of pressure and see how they cope; my children have their personalities and are forming that global outlook that my grandmother originally wanted for our family.
What’s an underrated joy of fatherhood that is rarely spoken of?
Listening to your children’s stories after school. You think you are the centre of their universe as a father, but your children have their own lives that revolve around them. It is fun.
If I could only read one chapter of your life, which would you recommend?
That’s a deep one. [long pause]. For my family, I’d want them to see the decisions I made for the family in my time. If it is for the young people, I would offer my career as the chapter, particularly in the early days when we were taking crazy risks. Strategic craziness pays off [chuckles].
Kevin Mutiso: Family time trumps even a billionaire’s handshake
What’s the last thing that surprised you about yourself?
Oh, wow! I recently greeted an acquaintance, and the way I greeted them, I felt like I displayed insecurity. I've been wondering why I am still insecure about certain aspects of myself. I have been reflecting on it; there is still a lot of fixing I have to do on myself.
Would you say that stems from your childhood, the need to be always high-functioning?
Yes, perhaps some of it, but I think I have had very high expectations of myself. But the other part of it is about being comfortable in my own skin — it’s okay just being me.
How do you show yourself love?
I like hanging out with my family. I plan holidays, weekends, movies, and cooking, which I love to do.
What’s your signature meal?
I am known for three things: one, good nyama. I also know how to make lasagna, apprenticed from my mum, and I don't think anyone can beat my mum’s lasagna, but perhaps now I think I can, and soups. I make killer soups.
My mum taught all of us how to cook. She said, ‘She doesn’t want sons like her husband, who can’t cook.’ Haha!
What’s a powerful memory you associate with food that drives you?
Happiness. Food is laughter and joy. One of my favourite meals is probably during one of my saddest days, when my grandmother passed away on April 12, 2020, from cancer. It was financially draining for my uncles, and so we couldn’t have a proper funeral, also because of the Covid-19 restrictions.
We were just the family there, looking at how our grandma would have set the table. The guys just started reminiscing for over four hours, remembering grandmother’s kienyeji chicken and mbuzi. That's when I found out that if you failed an exam, you wouldn’t be allowed to eat food that evening [chuckles]. No one has been able to replicate that kienyeji chicken since, though haha!
Maybe it’s the love, not the chicken?
Haha! Maybe.
If you didn’t grow up in poverty, where does your sense of ambition come from?
That’s the misconception. Ambition is not about money, but who I am and what I want to do with my life. The way I see it is, my grandparents took us from zero to 10, my parents took us from 10 to 50, and I am starting at 51, fortunately. So why am I dreaming at the same level as somebody who is dreaming at zero? I can dream till 150, for I have the foundation. I found myself here. Why should I deny myself what I can achieve if I can?
What is a dream you had that you are presently grateful did not come true?
Going to university abroad. Almost everyone I schooled with went abroad, and it was a big fight. But then the baby came, and I started hustling, which gave me a competitive advantage. I am comfortable in the village and at the king’s table.
Once I got into business, I travelled abroad almost every other month for our start-ups – to India, China, the UK, the US, and Vietnam. I got to see the world in four years in a structured way, not just school and partying—I had a mission in life to network and learn.
What do you secretly envy in others?
Anyone who can do mental Maths, big numbers, I am jealous. They are calculating returns faster than me.
What are you not willing to change, even though it’s holding you back?
Time. If I didn’t have to allocate time to my family, I could probably work 16-hour days and weekends. But what’s the point? Haha! The time for my family is sacred. Just last week, I could have met a billionaire who was in town, but my younger brother was getting married and I couldn’t miss that. Not for anything.
When you look at your life a year from now, what do you hope you will regret the least?
I am a big guy because I smoked and drank too much, partied too much and ate badly in my 20s. I am 38 now, and at 30, I started changing my lifestyle. I quit smoking, potatoes and sugar. I started swimming every week, starting with once a month, to once a week, and now I am at twice a week.
Why swimming specifically?
I was a swimmer growing up, and I was very quick. We used to do 100 to 200 laps a morning in primary school. I enjoyed that 6.30 am cold slap of water. It wakes you up haha! Yesterday I did 60 laps.
What are you thinking about in the water?
Life. It is my strategy time. I’ll swim, then go meditate. It calms my spirit.
What’s a weekend ritual you have?
A meal with my family, then I’ll do some well-being. In my many travels, I went to Vienna and a friend of mine introduced me to this Jewish workout—you sit in a hot, steaming room that has eucalyptus. I do it three times a week now. You are supposed to use the steam and sauna after working out.
What’s your top travel tip?
Go with the flow. Don’t over plan a trip; you’ll ruin it.
What are you unlearning now?
Great question. Growing up in Africa, I have learned that our beliefs and systems or what we consider universal truths, because of our context, are not real. I am unlearning a lot of those truths about what has been drilled into us about our Kenyanness.
What did success not fix that you thought it would?
That insecurity I speak about—I don’t think I am successful, which might sound weird.
How do you define success?
That’s a great question. Success is achieving my mission. I have a vision in life that by 2050, I want to make Africa the most modern place on earth by building big businesses. If I have big businesses and I am a decent dad and a good Kenyan and African, I will feel successful.
What do you wish people understood about you more?
I am very shy. I don’t like crowds or the public spotlight. If I don’t have to speak in public, I won’t; it is all par for the course, and I will do them well when I have to.
If you could teach the world one thing, what would it be?
Love thy neighbour as you love yourself. Let’s stop playing short-term games and play long-term. Positive sum games.
Who do you know that I should know?
I have a younger brother who is a comedic genius and a cousin who is a mathematical genius. It sounds cliché, but my wife is amazing.
What would they all agree about you?
I am stubborn.
What is a question you’d want me to ask the next CEO?
Why aren’t they running for public office? We need more people from our world in there.