Visual artist Phunk Bantu at work on a mural.courtesy of Phunk Bantu
Kenya has long been a country where color speaks, from matatus with loud decals to estate walls that tell you the stories of their residents. Very few artists have followed that rhythm with the focus of Phunk Bantu. A fine art painter turned graffiti artist, he uses the streets as both gallery and classroom.
His route into graffiti began with matatus and the pull of creating public art that reaches everyone. Over time, that curiosity grew into Street Gallery, his ongoing series of community murals across East Africa. His works can be found in neighborhoods all over Nairobi, as well as across Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania.
For Bantu, graffiti is both a conversation starter and a way to turn neglected walls into something of pride.“It’s really about changing how people see graffiti,” he tells OkayAfrica in an interview. “By including them in the process, they begin to see the art differently. It becomes theirs. Participation builds pride.”
Bantu shares his story with OkayAfrica, reflecting on how matatu art sparked his graffiti journey, how a single mural changed his path, and why community and style remain the foundation of everything he paints.
Phunk Bantu’s work can be found in neighborhoods all over Nairobi, as well as across Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania.courtesy of Phunk Bantu
Phunk Bantu: My first memory of wanting to do this came from the matatus. The matatu industry — how it began and kept evolving — is what pushed me toward graffiti. Watching the transformation of matatus over the years inspired me to use graffiti in my art as a way to express myself.
I started drawing when I was nine, just regular doodles. I later evolved into art and design, drilling down into fine art. Eventually, within fine arts, I found graffiti because I needed to reach. In Nairobi, graffiti puts artists’ names out there, and I wanted the same. The transition was not easy, but matatu culture showed me what visibility and impact could look like. Here, graffiti becomes a channel that advertises your other work.
It is not every day that you invite people to a gallery and they actually show up. Graffiti lives in the streets and reaches a bigger audience. When you mention a gallery, people expect a certain class of crowd, but street art is for everyone. It travels farther than a canvas and often leads people back to the paintings, fabrics, and custom pieces I create in the studio.
The first time I did graffiti, it was a commission. Before that, I focused mainly on canvas work, so this was my first chance to try a wall. It was completely different because I had little experience with spray paint. I had ordered sprays for the job, but the work came out shoddy, so I went back to brushes and finished it that way. Looking back, I can see how little experience I had. At the time, though, it felt like a start.
Tagging came three years later. At first, I wasn’t tagging my work because I was still learning about graffiti and its forms. I realized there are two separate processes to master: learning the art of graffiti and learning how to use spray paint. Both take time and practice.
My tag Bantu came from the art style I was exploring then. I was creating abstract expressions inspired by ancient African masks and reimagining them in my own way. I started adding African patterns, blending texture and symbolism. From that process, the name Bantu emerged, and I made it my identity. It’s still a work in progress.
Phunk Bantu in front of his vibrant “Nakuru” mural.courtesy of Phunk Bantu
Overcoming Challenges and Community Engagement
Graffiti can be used to express anything. It can be used as a protest, a celebration, or a way to beautify. Street art changes from one neighborhood to another. Some areas are largely Muslim, others mostly Christian, and each has its own limits. In Muslim communities, people prefer no portraits or images with eyes, so I focus more on wild-style lettering. Christian areas also have restrictions, so you have to read the environment before you start. There’s also an unspoken rule in street art: we avoid political and religious figures. And on city council walls, the rules are even stricter. You can’t paint prominent or revolutionary figures there.
I had to learn about copyright and intellectual property the hard way. A few years back, a major brand used one of my murals in an advertisement without my permission. The wall was in a residential area, open to everyone, and when I tried to pursue my rights, I was told the brand had paid the owner of the premises, not me. Because of that, there was nothing I could do legally, even though I had already copyrighted the work. The ad is still out there, and that experience taught me how corporations use loopholes to circumvent artists’ rights.
Since then, I’ve made sure to understand the clauses around IP and to sign agreements with property owners that protect my work. Whenever I create an outdoor installation, I make sure we sign a contract where I retain the copyright to the artwork. Many of these spaces later get used for advertising shoots, and this ensures that what happened before doesn’t happen again.
“I do take on commissions, but most of my work falls under a series I’ve been doing called Street Gallery.”courtesy of Phunk Bantu
I do take on commissions, but most of my work falls under a series I’ve been doing called Street Gallery. It’s my way of giving back to the community through my skills. When I paint for the community, I usually don’t get paid. And honestly, I don’t expect anything in return. It’s about contributing, offering something meaningful through art.
The idea behind Street Gallery is to shift how people see graffiti. In many communities, graffiti is misunderstood, seen as vandalism or protest. I want to show that it’s more than that. A lot of the negativity comes from what people have heard, not what they’ve experienced. So this series creates that experience, showing that graffiti is a powerful and beautiful form of artistic expression.
The one mural I’ll never forget is one I did at a children’s home. Getting permission to paint that wall was a struggle. But the children made it worth it. They were amazed by what I was doing and even helped me paint through the day and night.
The property owner was initially hesitant, and the arrangements for accommodation and meals were challenging, requiring considerable patience. I was so discouraged, I actually left. Two weeks later, the kids somehow found my number and texted me. The caretaker called too, offering better accommodation. I pushed through, and it turned into one of our best installations. It’s still my profile picture on Instagram and Facebook, four years later. That piece ended up being the turning point of my career because it led to a commission from the United Nations.
“It’s really about changing how people see graffiti.”courtesy of Phunk Bantu
The Unrivaled Importance of Community
The most important lesson I’ve learned is the value of involving the community in the installation and giving them pride in the work itself. Usually, I get walls in poor condition, sometimes even at dump sites. But once the painting is done and the space gets a facelift, I often find that when I return later, the area is cleaner than before. That’s what happens when you involve people. They take ownership, and the pride shows.
It’s really about changing how people see graffiti. By including them in the process, they begin to see the art differently. It becomes theirs. Participation builds pride.
