Here’s what Nashon Omondi, the CEO of HSC Systems, remembers about his childhood: His late dad being tough on his brother. Being the only surviving son in a polygamous household. The food. Oh, how plentiful it was-never mind his where-does-it-all-go appetite. He remembers, too, his dad leaving for Nairobi to work, what they call ‘Pango’. ‘When dad came back home, each of the wives would bring food,’ he says. ‘Often I was the only boy around, and I enjoyed the most.’ His dad is long gone, but it’s like he never left. Presence, after all, is most keenly felt in absence.
Now he is a father himself, and he has learned to hold his childhood up to the light and separate out the derisions and elisions, rolling his eyes at the parts that haven’t aged quite like he has.
It is often said when you are born, you look like your parents. When you die, you look like your decisions. Nashon grew up seeing his father make a living. He has always wanted more for himself. He wants to make a life.
How would your friends and family describe you? Wow, that’s a hard question. My children just call me Papa. I try to be friends with them so we can talk. I like the fact that I have children ranging from five years old to adulthood. The oldest is 23, just finished university, and is starting to work. The youngest is five years old, a preschooler. The oldest one probably looks at me as someone he’d like to be like. The youngest one just wants to play-whenever he sees me, he asks, “Can we play ball? Can we do this?” Then I have two in the middle: a 16-year-old girl-the only girl-and a 12-year-old boy. You relate differently to each. They see me as a dad: provider, a bit of a disciplinarian, not so much a teacher-always like, “Okay, we don’t need a lecture now.”
I’m the only surviving son of my mother. My dad was polygamous. I look after the family. My sisters are older, but they look at me almost in place of dad-leading the family, being consulted on big decisions, handling crises. But that’s inherited; it’s not something I asked for.
Was the age gap intentional, 23 and five? Not particularly. It all just happened as life happens. So it was not planned, but it’s challenging and good in some ways. It is challenging to be responsible for such a diverse age range.
How are you a different father to the five-year-old compared to the 23-year-old? My older children obviously think the five-year-old is spoiled; they think Papa is a bit soft these days. But I think that’s a factor of experience, more confidence, and learning. We are not really taught to parent, so you learn on the job. Subconsciously, you lean on your experience with your own parents, what you saw in your environment, and that changes. As I’ve parented three children, with the fourth one, I have a lot of experience.
What do you understand about your late father now that you couldn’t as a young father? I’m one of the youngest in my family. Growing up, my dad was already an old man, probably in his 60s when I started to relate with him one-on-one. I remember he had a lot of conflict with my eldest brother, who is also deceased. These days, when I have conflict with my older son, I understand now [chuckles]. At the time, I used to think dad was being unfair or hard on him, but now I can see why that was happening, so I’m more sympathetic. I’m also more sympathetic to him in terms of bearing the weight of looking after the family and the costs with a lot less income and resources… and yet he did it. I actually don’t understand how he did that.
HSC Systems Limited CEO and Managing Director Nashon Omondi in Tilisi, Kiambu County on October 22, 2026.
Lucy Wanjiru | Nation Media Group
How did growing up in a polygamous family shape you? That’s interesting. There are good things I remember. We were upcountry. My dad would visit once in a while because he was in Nairobi working. In Luo culture, we call it pango. The men went to pango, meaning they had gone to work, essentially. One of the great things was when dad came-going back to when his mum, my grandmother, was still alive-when it came to eating, each of the three wives would bring food. My dad would sit under a tree. Dad had to eat with the boys, and often I’d be the only boy at home because my older brothers were in boarding school or already out. We were not a typical polygamous family where people don’t get along. When dad passed away, I just took over because his other children were younger. I was one of the youngest in the first family, which means all the other children were much younger when dad died. If I needed money and my mum didn’t have it, I’d go to mama (stepmother), so you had a second mother you could go to. Or if you needed someone to talk to dad, you were better off going to mama than your own mum, because mama was probably closer to dad at that time [chuckles].
When that person who holds the family together dies, what keeps it from falling apart? This will come out negatively, but both my stepmums died before dad. So after dad died, all of us had one mother-my mum. That removed the politics of the mothers. If my stepmums were still alive, I’m not sure we would have attained the same level of cohesiveness. It’s sad that they passed, but it gave us a chance to rally around one person. Also, dad didn’t have separate homes for everybody. In shags, we had one big home where all the women had houses built. We ate together and played together. In Nairobi, there was just one home, and whichever mother was reigning here at any one time, you would live under them. That created interdependence. In polygamy, the man is not the source of the politics; the division comes from the mothers’ side. Losing that meant there were no conflicting voices, and all the children had one mother to work through.
How are you your own man from your father? I struggle to match him in many ways and have very little to criticise. But my dad was a man of his generation-zero emotional vulnerability around his children, no hugging. I am much more connected with my children; they are my friends. My dad was not highly educated, so there were subjects you couldn’t discuss in detail, like philosophy. With my children, we can engage on any subject at any level. My dad never punished us with beatings; I got beaten more by my sisters than my parents! [chuckles] With my children, we try to talk things out. There is a lot more conversation around the dinner table, reading books together, watching movies, or going for walks.
HSC Systems Limited CEO and Managing Director Nashon Omondi in Tilisi, Kiambu County on October 22, 2026.
Lucy Wanjiru | Nation Media Group
Growing up, what was the standard conversation about money around your family dinner table? We didn’t talk about money much because we didn’t have money! [chuckles] We talked in terms of what was needed, mostly rotating around school and holidays/Christmas-asking for shoes or school shopping. I can’t think of any negative issues from that that I need to unlearn. If anything, it was frugal, focused on survival and being smart about how you spend what you have, which is still relevant today.
What did you love doing as a child that still brings you joy today? I picked up reading in my early teens and have kept that. I also picked up cycling. In the village, riding bikes everywhere was the only means of getting anywhere. Being the only boy at home, I ran all the errands on a bike, be it buying bread, milk, or going to the shop. I still enjoy cycling whenever I find a safe space or when I’m upcountry.
Do you remember the first book that made you fall in love with reading? In the village, somebody would have a novel and pass it around. Things like James Hadley Chase books. People would queue, waiting for it. It started as a way of killing boredom during long holidays after the Form 4 KCSE, while waiting for results for three months. In the morning, you went to the shamba early at 6 am because by 10 am it was too hot. By 10 am, you were back home, moved the cows, cleaned up, had breakfast, and had nothing much to do until evening. So reading was a way to occupy oneself.
With the demands of making a living, how do you protect time to make a life? We all have 24 hours; it’s about what you prioritise. At work, I’m very organised, value my time, and optimise everything. At home, I keep things open and unscripted. I am the CEO at work, but at home, my wife is the CEO. I ask what the family wants to do rather than imposing my will. If people just want to chill, I might go for a solo bike ride and join them later.
Do you have any secret talent? Haha! I think I’m very good at cycling, or could have been. I watch the European tours-Tour de France, La Vuelta, Tour of Germany. If I were raised in Europe, I probably could have been a professional cyclist. But I can’t sing, and I can’t swim [chuckles]. Fun fact: my daughter is currently in Uganda representing Kenya in a swimming competition. People think everyone from the lake knows how to swim, but we lived 80 km from the lake and had no rivers nearby, so I didn’t swim in the ponds. Inspired by my daughter, I’ve promised to take swimming lessons [chuckles].
Is there a version of success you wouldn’t want for yourself? Everything in moderation. I pray for humility every day because it’s easy to forget that it’s not about Nash-it’s about the brand, the company, the customers. I dislike the leadership style that focuses heavily on personal brand over the organisation. As a leader, if you become ego-driven and the centre of everything, you fail to harness the talent of the people you hired. I am intentional about having the organisation be the main story while I am part of the supporting cast.
What is something you refuse to let age take away from you? Fighting age is a losing strategy; age will win eventually. My focus is on prolonging health, vitality, and mental sharpness as long as possible and extending the “health span.” I do that through exercise, diet, and having quit alcohol at an early age. But my starting position is: Age will win eventually.
What’s a small indulgence you allow yourself? I like travel and cars. I’ve always owned a slightly better car than I could afford, starting at age 22 or 23 because I hated public transport due to my height [chuckles]. You have to live a little. My boys inherited that love for cars. But I keep things simple: no expensive suits, shoes, or luxury watches like Rolexes, just an Apple Watch…and one car, but don’t come to my house and look at the garage haha!
Which car tells the biggest story of your life? My first car was a Toyota Corolla AE81. I’ve owned one or two BMWs and Land Rovers, beauties to drive, but I mostly remember them for the pain and constant mechanic repairs! Now I stick to reliable Japanese cars like Toyotas and Nissans [chuckles].
HSC Systems Limited CEO and Managing Director Nashon Omondi at his office in Tilisi, Kiambu County on October 22, 2026.
Lucy Wanjiru | Nation Media Group
What does success complicate? Success can be isolating. People relate to you differently or stop talking naturally when you walk into a room at work because you are the CEO. The only people who treat you completely normally are your children and your wife. Your children don’t care about your status, and your wife keeps you grounded.
What does the perfect weekend look like for you? A weekend without work emergencies, like IT servers crashing on Friday afternoon at 4 pm [chuckles]. Gym on Saturday morning, hanging out with close friends, gym with family on Sunday, breakfast out, walking the dog, and watching movies in the afternoon.
Who do you know that I should know? You would have loved my mum. She wasn’t formally educated, but she was extremely smart and taught me charity. All the community work we do upcountry with schools and churches started with her. She would just look for people to give money [chuckles].