Nairobi – Once the face of Kenyan airwaves and a fixture on national stages, Eddie Kimani was living what many would call the dream.
TV host. Radio voice. Emcee. Celebrated. Recognised. Applauded.
But behind the lights, the cameras, and the carefully tailored smiles, Kimani was quietly falling apart.
In a raw, powerful public monologue shared this week, the former broadcaster peeled back the polished image that had long defined him. His message was simple, but striking: fame is not always what it seems.
“Fame is a beautiful-looking trap,” Kimani said. “You’re expected to be rich, confident, always on. Fame becomes a full-time personality.”
Kimani, now in his 40s, recounted how his public image began to crack after he left the media world to join public service. The decision, he explained, looked good on paper but in practice, it pulled him away from his family, slashed his income, and introduced financial strain he never expected.
“I was borrowing to keep up appearances,” he said. “I got into debt. Businesses I tried failed. But I kept smiling because I thought that’s what famous people do.”
That pressure to perform a silent expectation to remain unshaken was crushing. Kimani’s marriage eventually collapsed. His mental health spiralled. And in 2016, he hit what he calls “proper rock bottom.”
“I was in South Coast, away from everything I thought was my problem. But I wasn’t just escaping it was darker than that. I was ready to give up.”
In a moment that could have gone another way, Kimani said a stranger in the small town of Ukunda noticed him not as a celebrity, but as a human being.
“He didn’t ask for a selfie. He asked, ‘Are you okay?’ And that changed everything.”
From that encounter, Kimani began to rebuild slowly, painfully, but intentionally. The turning point, he says, was when he found healing in something deeply personal: art.
Learning sculpture, returning to acting, and re-engaging in storytelling helped him give shape to the emotional rubble he had buried under years of forced perfection.
“Art gave my pain a voice. I wasn’t creating for applause I was creating to heal.”
Now based in Mombasa, Kimani speaks with a calm clarity that seems hard-earned. He credits the slower coastal life, the ocean, and the space to breathe with helping him recover not just mentally, but spiritually.
“I’m in a place of quiet strength,” he said. “Not because everything is perfect, but because I’ve faced the storm and I’m still here.”
His story is as much a warning as it is a message of hope. Kimani called on younger Kenyans especially Gen Z content creators who dominate social platforms to think twice about what they’re chasing.
“Fame is not freedom. Visibility is not validation. You are not a brand you’re a person. You don’t need to go viral to be valuable.”
He spoke directly to those caught in the culture of curated lives and ‘soft life’ goals. “Take care of your peace. Because when the lights go out and they will you need to like the person you’re alone with.”
Kimani’s honesty is rare in a public space where vulnerability is often mistaken for weakness. In Kenya and elsewhere, celebrities who speak openly about mental health still face stigma.
“In this country, once you show your cracks, people stop admiring and start whispering,” he said. “But healing starts when the performance ends.”
Now, with years of struggle behind him, Kimani says he’s learned the hardest, most freeing lesson: authenticity matters more than applause.
“If fame ever comes back, it will find me whole not hungry for validation, and not afraid to be real.”
And to those still chasing the spotlight, he leaves this final note: “Take your soul with you.”
