Kenyan singer Kevin Bahati is in the spotlight again — but this time, not for his music. Weeks after being accused of clout-chasing for failing to honour a KSh 1 million promise to the Harambee Stars, Bahati has returned swinging, pointing fingers at former footballer and FKF deputy chair McDonald Mariga.
The pledge was bold, almost theatrical. Before Harambee Stars faced Morocco at the 2024 Africa Nations Championship, Bahati and his wife Diana Marua flashed bundles of cash online, vowing to hand it to the players if they won. Against the odds, the Stars delivered. Yet the money never came. What followed was outrage, taunts, and accusations of empty bravado.
Now, Bahati insists he is being misunderstood. Draped in a Harambee Stars jersey, he resurfaced with KSh 3 million in cash, claiming he had always been ready to pay but was blocked by circumstance. CAF rules, he said, barred him from accessing the players after the game. Mariga, he added, went silent when he tried to arrange the handover.
To prove it, Bahati did what many celebrities avoid: he leaked private WhatsApp chats. “Good morning senior, pole I missed your call. I was on set and also on a family vacation,” one of the messages read. “If I delay, allow me to do it next week. Hii yangu ningetumana ni vile Wakenya wanataka proof nikipeana so naomba nijiletee aki.”
In Bahati’s telling, Mariga became the missing link. He says the ex-midfielder suggested the cash could be delivered during training, even as the weeks rolled by. At one point, Bahati claimed he nearly doubled down: “Naweza kasirika nilete ikiwa KSh 3 million.”
But the public isn’t buying it. Fans still see a celebrity chasing headlines rather than keeping his word. Some mock him for dragging Mariga into his drama. Others argue that no amount of leaked screenshots can mask the fact that the Harambee Stars are yet to see a single shilling.
Mariga has stayed silent, leaving Bahati to fight his corner alone. The players themselves have not weighed in, perhaps unwilling to be dragged into the storm. But the court of public opinion has already passed its verdict: for many, Bahati’s promise was less about generosity and more about spectacle.
In the end, the pledge that was meant to unite Kenyans in celebration has instead become a saga of excuses, finger-pointing, and suspicion. And unless Bahati follows through soon, the Sh1 million that once inspired hope will remain a symbol of celebrity clout gone wrong.
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