Maryanne Ochola walks in the sun. The managing director, Endeavor Kenya, is a magnet of energy.
He also knows all about pain. The story: when he lost his father; he lost his marriage, too. But he didn’t lose his smile.
I pause to think about the courage it takes to open myself up without fear. It took courage to lean in, instead of walking out, so he dug in: cooking “world-famous potatoes”. She took up knitting. He returned to the theater.
What have you been up to lately?
Just browsed the various threads of it. I am a connector at work, when you work in ecosystem building, trying to get venture capital for founders who want to build a company at scale. You need to know everyone, and that makes you public. I have immersed myself in the Climate Talk, and also as a multipotential, doing things that are connected. My friend hosted a monologue by John Sibi Okumu-he is a thespian and I remember we used to act together at Moi University. They recently hosted a focus group discussion, and I really enjoyed it.
Acting, I can’t imagine. How?
My first gig was as an actor with Mbalamwezi Players. It is a poetry-dance-music event. I still have photos on Instagram of me doing what I love and getting paid for it. It was only Sh4,000 after a week of training but my parents were spectators. Did you know that I was supposed to be in a show on KBC directed by Kanze Dena? Never took it because I never got a sponsor. My father found out that I came to Nairobi to act, and he was angry, I had to stop. My children are teenagers and they both love the stage, they are in school productions every year, so I live my life that way. I will return to the stage; I know I will.
Do you remember the first time you were on stage?
In primary school at Peter Kibukosya School in Umoja II, I used to do public speaking every year. I’ve been on stage for as long as I can remember. It helps me even now because everything is scripted. Speaking is a performance and everything is a stage to convey a message.
Have you maintained that creative energy by taking up an instrument, or organ, “multipotential,” as you call it?
I don’t play but we have a music night at home every couple there. The children played musical instruments and I sang. But I also support my friends who are in the creative sector.
When do you realize that your child has this creative bone, and is it from you or the father?
It’s all me. My son can weave a story, especially if you catch him doing something he shouldn’t. I read a lot of books and I read Julia Quinn, who wrote Bridgerton, and she said how she becomes a writer is by weaving stories. It’s two-edged…the negative side of you makes the story but then again, he’s very creative. My son, I think, he’s going to be a computer scientist, then he goes to high school and he chooses theater, music, French, and Spanish, and I’m like, okay! (laugh)
Are you like a little kid too?
yes already! I was in almost every club, even Moi University. I even played netball at the national level when I was at SMA Putri Pangani. You can tell I’m in Pangani because we’re all a bit loud, haha!
I can tell. If you could choose a moment from your childhood that is a good representation of your life, what would it be?
I’m active, I’m always where I’m supposed to be: rehearsals, church (I was raised Catholic) come up and play, I’ve got a lot of projects going and I’ve learned to just chill. But I don’t think it’s also in my name…I’m called “Nyawira” which means working or the one who works. I’m always working on something.
What do you miss most about your childhood?
You can only be. There is no fence. There is no pressure, only freedom. My parents are also very open about it.
Do you remember your nickname?
I am the eldest child, and I have enough rights, according to my father. He used to call me “brat” but he added an “o” to the end to make it “Brato”. It must be endearing (chuckles). No, no!
What hasn’t changed from Brato since childhood?
That fierce stubbornness. And it gets in the way even in my relationship. I set my mind and I think it can be done and this will be done. At Moi University, I ran for Muso (Moi University Student Organization) as director of catering, and my slogan was “Usafi na Mapochocho” so people started calling me “Mapochopocho.” When my father heard that I was going to run for office, he called me and brought to my attention the politics of the university and said, “Remember, Jesus died at the age of 30.” You will have a short life, brutish, haha! Where would I be if I didn’t have a fence now?
If you are alive, what does your father think now, Brato?
He passed but I remember him telling me he wished he had half the courage, reflecting back on the opportunity he didn’t take. That was very touching to hear considering they raised me.
How did your father’s death remind you of him? Is it different from when you were alive?
My father would say, “Nyawira, you can be anything you want to be.” It was my anchor When he died, my center shifted, he was the person I was close to now.
What are your favorite memories with him?
Going to Uhuru Park and sitting there, watching the boats and eating sausages and Hawks come down and catch sausages and how he will be protective. Or how he will remove the bones from the flesh for the firstborn. Here’s a fun little story. There was a time when he was the chairman of the PTA (parent-teacher association), and we would clean the classroom as students, but there were boys who refused to clean, saying that the girls should do it. My father was called and told that I was against the boy. He gave his ear in front of the teacher, but when he got home, he told her that he only did it because of the teacher.
Did you beat the kid?
Haha! I remember his name, Alex Amaguna. He tried to hit me, but I was done, done. We were on the floor, and it was all out fighting.
How do you raise your children differently than your father used to?
The ethos is the same—you can be anything you want to be. I told them to do everything to see if it sticks. I remember there were many religious activities, but we were not very religious by design with my children. A more flexible but morally inflexible value system.
Are you married to your father? Your father is a springboard to be whatever you want to be, but sometimes our spouse can be a cage. What is your experience?
Because of that, after 10 years of marriage, I ended it. Girls like me who were raised by safe fathers need to meet people who were also raised safely, who are insecure because of all this, especially if you have a big personality with opinions. Because of that, it just doesn’t work, Eddy. That’s why I try to raise my children safely so that they don’t have that kind of partner.
With the risk of intrusion, what about separation conversations with children?
It was difficult at first. The other day we were walking, and the kids were like, “You’re so different.” Kids are smarter than we think. They can see when you are still and not being yourself. In the end, you have to remember that children can see. They care about you both.
How do you stay sane during the season and not let the personal spill over into the professional?
You are alone, so you cannot be alone at work. Be very open when you experience challenges. Talk about it or ask for support. I told my boss what happened, and so did my team. To my surprise, my team came and told me the things they were doing, and they said, “You give permission when you open.” Remember, you are human. If you are in a position of influence, and there is a lot of stigma around the topic, and you bring it up, that gives people permission to do it.
I recently watched author Simon Sinek and comedian Trevor Noah in conversation, and they said, “You build trust by asking for help rather than giving it.” Are you actively seeking help?
It’s a good phrase. There is power in vulnerability and in making yourself human – people trust you and they will come. When I told the team, they started coming to me. My divorce happened at the same time as my father’s death. I ran from the hospital to the court. I even had health problems, and the doctor couldn’t find out what the problem was until the doctor asked me what was going on in my life. I have no image to protect, people see me for me.
What did you take away from the experience?
We are all winging it. When you know that you will last longer in life and you have a faster time to recover because you are not spending it. Life is hard, and not just for you. It’s hard for everyone.
How do you take care of Maryanne?
i cook I read. I knit. We play a lot of music at home. A fun creative chat.
What is your signature food?
I’m a girl from the mountains, so I can make it sane (potatoes) six ways.
oh god…
already haha! Every meal is a must have Hibiscus. This is the order, and the hibiscus is going to pop. Haha!
Besides potatoes, what’s your idea of ​​happiness?
I’m always looking forward to something. That’s magical. Whether it’s a concert, a pop-up market, my son’s golf tournament, or my son’s play on stage, etc., life is meant to be lived.
What do you want now?
I was gone for two and a half weeks. I had a difficult but productive trip. I’m in New York now, going to Amsterdam next week, then Madrid. When it’s done, I can’t wait for my kids. I am looking forward to the glorious weather in December and Christmas in Nairobi.
What do you need more of in your life?
Good question. I need to build more time to watch more plays, and concerts – more time.
What fears do you use to overcome them?
When you are always looking to the next thing, there is always anxiety at work. Will people come? Will the show be a success? So it’s a little less hard for me. You have no point to prove to anyone. Less carry.
What’s the soundtrack to your life right now?
Oh God. Haha! I like Gramps Morgan People Like You. I have created a beautiful circle around me, people I love. There are always people around me willing to lend a hand.
Have you apologized to yourself?
For not being more merciful to me.
And what do you thank yourself for?
Because it will never lose the laughter and joy of childhood. I’m not a Debbie Downer, the person who gets in the room and sucks the energy. I am sunshine, even through difficult times.
If you could tell me just one thing, would you tell me?
You will be fine. You see the things you worry about now, five years from now, won’t matter. Trust me. You will be fine. I also need to remember that more often.