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<\/figure>\n\n\n\nImagine being between ten and thirteen, witnessing the pillars of your world crumble. “We finally accepted to just leave the country for our stability and peace. We had no choice other than running away.” The pressure was unimaginably immense – enough to overpower his mother’s heart before they fled Kivu.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And so, Kakuma. 2011. The arrival wasn’t a gentle embrace. “The whole journey was tough. Tough.” He unknowingly repeats the last word, with a short pause in between, echoing the harshness of the experience. “We were only two men, me and my elder brother.” It’s heavy, the realisation that this young man, still young and vibrant in his 20s, deemed himself a man when barely in his adolescence. He speaks of a childhood abruptly curtailed: “I started losing my childhood at a young age. I was supposed to feel responsible whether I liked it or not, because you can’t show emotion, and you have to pretend to be okay, but when you’re alone,” his voice drifts off for a moment, “It beats you badly.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now, it’s one thing to adapt to a new environment. It’s a whole other thing to need to adapt to a new environment, including learning a new language. “I had to forget about French. I needed to learn English to fit in, because the diversity in Kakuma is crazy.” That isolation at the start, the feeling of being an outsider, gnawed at him, pushing him to the brink. That potent cocktail of fear, trauma, and loneliness almost consumed him. “I almost committed suicide two times.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It is from these profound depths that Aoci’s creative spirit began to stir, not just as an escape, but as a lifeline. “The solution came,” he affirms when asked about processing the trauma, “When I got into music.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n This wasn’t an overnight transformation; rather, it was a gradual dawning. He found himself in Shambe Primary School, drawn to a class club called the Peace Club. “I accepted Kakuma as my home, and became very active in school. I even got a friend called Lual [who was] at least one person I could communicate with.” This connection was a small but vital anchor as his talent began to surface, with music becoming his sanctuary, his language. “It became my therapy. So without music, I really don’t know where I’d be right now.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n The boy who loved dancing back in Congo, named Gerrard after a choirmaster uncle, found his calling. Early successes in school competitions blossomed. “I won Kakuma Got Talent, and I won. I started getting shows, and then from there, music became a career in terms of living.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n This is where Lastic Sound, his creative enterprise, begins to take shape. He evolved from “Young A” – “young Aochi” – to Lastic. The name itself is a story, a tender tribute. “The name came from my sister who passed away. Because when I was singing at home, she’d always tell me, ‘Your sound is like elastic.’ Then I said, ‘Okay, I’m going to call myself elastic – or Lastic.'” His vision is clear: “My main goal is to use music to educate, entertain, and advocate. So anyone who doesn’t have the same vision as me, I feel like we are simply not going to align.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n – – –<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Sanara programme played a crucial role in crystallising this vision into a tangible business. “After attending the Sanara programme trainings, it elevated my thinking,” Aoci shares. “We learnt about IP, we learnt my rights as an artist working with management, the importance of clear agreements and contracts.” It was newfound knowledge that empowered him. “I decided to officially terminate everything else… And that’s when Lastic Records was officially born.” He took control, driven by a desire to build something authentic and impactful, a platform not just for himself but for others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His music is inextricably linked to his advocacy. It\u2019s the channel for his pain, his observations, his demands for change. “I decided to officially start advocacy as the result of what happened to my family,” he states, recounting the unresolved tragedy of his sister, who endured a rape ordeal as they fled their childhood home, as well as the story of his brother, who exposed fraud in the camp and faced threats with little protection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He challenges the simplistic, often dehumanising, narrative surrounding refugees. “When people outside of Kakuma hear the word refugees, you just think it’s just someone in the tent, it’s just someone who flees war. Some of us are even educated people, have degrees, people have even PhDs. You forget that these are people who have dreams.” ‘Refugee Wishes,’ a song he wrote and produced, is a direct manifestation of this advocacy. “It speaks out about what we think we deserve, who we are, and how we should be considered as refugees. Not just as refugees, but refugees is just a title, but it doesn’t change anything about having my goals, what I want to achieve, or who I am as a human being.” This creative work is his activism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n – – –<\/p>\n\n\n\n The conversation turns to his creative process, his dreams for Lastic Sound, and his advice for other young creatives. His dedication is palpable. “I can spend the whole night recording, writing lyrics, and it’s normal to me. Why? Because I do something that I love.” His upcoming album, “Asante,” is a testament to his journey. “I decided to call it Asante as a way of thanking the community, which is Kakuma Refugee Camp, for giving me that space and the trust. and also I sent it to myself as Gerrard, regardless of all the challenges I’ve gone through and I never give up on myself.” It features collaborations from Kakuma, Nairobi, and the US – a creative endeavour woven with threads of gratitude and resilience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His vision for Lastic Sound extends beyond personal success. “What remains now is now making Lastic Records support other young people also grow.” He dreams of a future where his work opens doors, where collaborations with major companies and artists are not just possibilities, but realities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n – – –<\/p>\n\n\n\n Aoci’s voice, carried over the phone line from Kakuma, is more than just sound. He is a living example of how artistic passion, when nurtured and given a pathway, can become a powerful force for individual fulfilment and communal change. His story, his music, his Lastic Sound – they are not just echoes from a refugee camp; they are a resonant call for a more just, empathetic, and creative world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To those hesitant to follow their passion, his message is clear: “Talent is a call, and if talent is a call, you just need to pick the call… But there’s no better thing in the world than doing something that you love. When you do something that you love, you give it 100%.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n And the Sanara programme, by helping imbue knowledge and reframe perspectives of young creative voices like Aoci\u2019s, helps ensure anthems such as these are heard – beyond Kakuma, across Kenya, and reverberating in rooms and halls across Africa and the world.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The connection comes alive, and a voice, clear and resonant with a quiet resilience. “Hello?” On the other end of the line is Aoci, a name that resonates with the vibrant, often unseen, creative pulse of Kakuma Refugee Camp. As it would turn out, this isn’t just any phone call; it’s a story that weaves […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":14602,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14599","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-participant-stories"],"blocksy_meta":{"styles_descriptor":{"styles":{"desktop":"","tablet":"","mobile":""},"google_fonts":[],"version":8}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14599","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14599"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14599\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14602"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14599"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14599"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14599"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}![\"\"](\"https:\/\/sanara.co.ke\/wp-content\/uploads\/sanara-aoci-story-7-1.webp\")
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