
Nobody plays the nyatiti better than Japan’s Mukoyama, ‘Nyar Siaya’
What is cultural appropriation, really? We throw the term around so easily these days, usually in the heat of arguments about hairstyles, slang, or music. At its heart, it’s about power: when a dominant group borrows or, rather, takes symbols, styles, or traditions from a marginalised culture without care, respect, or context. But here’s where the conversation gets sticky: is cultural appropriation only a crime when it happens to African people and their descendants? And let’s not tiptoe around it—can Black people appropriate culture, too, or do we get a pass? Even more uncomfortable, can Black people be racist?
These questions aren’t just semantics. They force us to confront the messiness of identity, history, and language. After all, “African” is not synonymous with “Black,” even though we often use the terms interchangeably. One speaks to geography and ethnicity; the other, to race and the scars of colonialism and diaspora. Still, both shape how we experience power and how we’re seen when we step outside of our cultural lanes.
One such woman who is pushing the boundaries of identity and culture is Anyango Nyar Siaya, originally born Eriko Mukoyama, a Japanese woman who travelled from Japan to Siaya. In 2005, she received a Luo name that would change her life. Her nyatiti teacher, the late Okumu Korengo, called her Anyango Nyar Siaya—“Anyango, daughter of Siaya.” Twenty years later, she carries the name with pride, a title intertwined with music, identity, and cultural exchange.
Anyango’s journey with the nyatiti began a year earlier, in 2004, when she first encountered the traditional eight-stringed lyre in Nairobi. “I saw it during a performance at the Bomas of Kenya and I immediately fell in love with it,” she recalls. At the time, she could not have imagined that the nyatiti, long considered the preserve of Luo men in rural Kenya, would become her lifelong calling.
Her background in music helped pave the way. “Since junior high school, I knew I wanted to be a musician. I never imagined I would play the nyatiti, but music has always been my life.”
Traditionally, the nyatiti was reserved for initiated men. For a young Japanese woman to not only learn it but master it was unthinkable. Tabu Osusa, the founder and CEO of Ketebul Music and now her publisher, recalls the controversy her entry stirred. “Many young Luo women accused me of promoting a foreigner instead of pushing them to learn to play the nyatiti,” he says. “But she came to Kenya, found her teachers, and dedicated herself to the craft. Who wouldn’t work with someone like that?”
Through dedication and the mentorship of Korengo, Anyango went on to become the first woman formally recognised as a nyatiti player. “At first, people misunderstood. Some thought I was stealing the culture. But I just loved the instrument. I respected the Luo people and their wisdom. After 20 years, many now see that,” she reflects.
Her new book, Anyango Nyar Siaya: Nyatiti Queen, marks two decades of this extraordinary journey. Although she has previously published five books in Japanese, this is her first work in English, opening her story to Kenyan and global audiences. “It’s not only my autobiography,” she explains. “Through my story, readers can also learn about my masters, the late Korengo and Nyamungu Odhiambo, about the Luo community, and about the richness of their culture. Most importantly, I hope readers find inspiration in the courage to never give up.”
Anyango also sees parallels between the cultural struggles of Japan and Kenya. “After the war, Japan became very westernised, just like Kenya. But even in modern life, we must not lose the wisdom of our traditions—they help us understand who we are and how we should live.”
Today, Anyango speaks four languages: Japanese, Luo, English, and Kiswahili, and continues to use her music to build bridges. Asked what she hopes audiences will feel at her performances, she smiles: “It’s free. People can feel whatever they like. Some may not admire me, and that’s fine. But from my side, I simply love the nyatiti and respect this culture deeply.”
The book launch will take place at Alliance Française on Wednesday, 17 September, from 6 p.m., followed by a Nyatiti showcase featuring Makadem and Anyango Nyar Siaya. Her book, Anyango Nyar Siaya: Nyatiti Queen, is now available at Nuria Bookstore on Moi Avenue, Nairobi, and will also be launched at other venues in the city, including Gecko Café.
Tracy Ochieng is a staff writer with Books in Africa. Email: tracy.ochieng@ekitabu.com

Nobody plays the nyatiti better than Japan’s Mukoyama, ‘Nyar Siaya’
What is cultural appropriation, really? We throw the term around so easily these days, usually in the heat of arguments about hairstyles, slang, or music. At its heart, it’s about power: when a dominant group borrows or, rather, takes symbols, styles, or traditions from a marginalised culture without care, respect, or context. But here’s where the conversation gets sticky: is cultural appropriation only a crime when it happens to African people and their descendants? And let’s not tiptoe around it—can Black people appropriate culture, too, or do we get a pass? Even more uncomfortable, can Black people be racist?
These questions aren’t just semantics. They force us to confront the messiness of identity, history, and language. After all, “African” is not synonymous with “Black,” even though we often use the terms interchangeably. One speaks to geography and ethnicity; the other, to race and the scars of colonialism and diaspora. Still, both shape how we experience power and how we’re seen when we step outside of our cultural lanes.
One such woman who is pushing the boundaries of identity and culture is Anyango Nyar Siaya, originally born Eriko Mukoyama, a Japanese woman who travelled from Japan to Siaya. In 2005, she received a Luo name that would change her life. Her nyatiti teacher, the late Okumu Korengo, called her Anyango Nyar Siaya—“Anyango, daughter of Siaya.” Twenty years later, she carries the name with pride, a title intertwined with music, identity, and cultural exchange.
Anyango’s journey with the nyatiti began a year earlier, in 2004, when she first encountered the traditional eight-stringed lyre in Nairobi. “I saw it during a performance at the Bomas of Kenya and I immediately fell in love with it,” she recalls. At the time, she could not have imagined that the nyatiti, long considered the preserve of Luo men in rural Kenya, would become her lifelong calling.
Her background in music helped pave the way. “Since junior high school, I knew I wanted to be a musician. I never imagined I would play the nyatiti, but music has always been my life.”
Traditionally, the nyatiti was reserved for initiated men. For a young Japanese woman to not only learn it but master it was unthinkable. Tabu Osusa, the founder and CEO of Ketebul Music and now her publisher, recalls the controversy her entry stirred. “Many young Luo women accused me of promoting a foreigner instead of pushing them to learn to play the nyatiti,” he says. “But she came to Kenya, found her teachers, and dedicated herself to the craft. Who wouldn’t work with someone like that?”
Through dedication and the mentorship of Korengo, Anyango went on to become the first woman formally recognised as a nyatiti player. “At first, people misunderstood. Some thought I was stealing the culture. But I just loved the instrument. I respected the Luo people and their wisdom. After 20 years, many now see that,” she reflects.
Her new book, Anyango Nyar Siaya: Nyatiti Queen, marks two decades of this extraordinary journey. Although she has previously published five books in Japanese, this is her first work in English, opening her story to Kenyan and global audiences. “It’s not only my autobiography,” she explains. “Through my story, readers can also learn about my masters, the late Korengo and Nyamungu Odhiambo, about the Luo community, and about the richness of their culture. Most importantly, I hope readers find inspiration in the courage to never give up.”
Anyango also sees parallels between the cultural struggles of Japan and Kenya. “After the war, Japan became very westernised, just like Kenya. But even in modern life, we must not lose the wisdom of our traditions—they help us understand who we are and how we should live.”
Today, Anyango speaks four languages: Japanese, Luo, English, and Kiswahili, and continues to use her music to build bridges. Asked what she hopes audiences will feel at her performances, she smiles: “It’s free. People can feel whatever they like. Some may not admire me, and that’s fine. But from my side, I simply love the nyatiti and respect this culture deeply.”
The book launch will take place at Alliance Française on Wednesday, 17 September, from 6 p.m., followed by a Nyatiti showcase featuring Makadem and Anyango Nyar Siaya. Her book, Anyango Nyar Siaya: Nyatiti Queen, is now available at Nuria Bookstore on Moi Avenue, Nairobi, and will also be launched at other venues in the city, including Gecko Café.
Tracy Ochieng is a staff writer with Books in Africa. Email: tracy.ochieng@ekitabu.com
