Most people have come to know me from my work at Murang’a SEAL. That’s where I first stood out — not just behind the camera, but behind the ideas that powered the club’s digital strategy. Suddenly, this relatively new Kenyan Premier League team was punching above its weight online, capturing attention, sparking debates, and creating a new kind of noise in a space that often felt too safe.
That’s me: Samwel Ogor. A sports storyteller, digital strategist, and someone who has refused to play by the unwritten rules of “serious” football media. I believe football should be fun, bold, witty, and engaging. I believe clubs should act like culture-shapers, not just scoreboard announcers. After all, football is entertainment at its core — a stage where fans want drama, humor, suspense, and connection, not just dry statistics and polite press releases.
Where I come from, though, doing this kind of work professionally — especially in football club media — is considered newsworthy in itself. People don’t applaud the digital numbers you grow or the audiences you build. They applaud the fact that you’re even in the room. And if you dare throw humor into the mix, suddenly you’re branded “unprofessional.” That contradiction has always troubled my thinking. Why celebrate the job title and ignore the actual impact? Why dismiss banter, wit, and hype when they’re the very fuel of global football culture?
My journey into this space didn’t happen by accident. I’ve always been drawn to stories. In sports, I saw a narrative full of raw emotions: the chaos of grassroots games, the heartbreak of missed penalties, the glory of last-minute winners. Over time, I realized the real battle wasn’t just on the pitch — it was online, where clubs were either making themselves part of the cultural conversation or fading into silence.
That’s where I fit in. I help clubs, brands, and platforms turn their digital spaces into living, breathing communities. For Murang’a SEAL, that meant building a bold online voice in their debut top-flight season. For other organizations, it has meant shaping narratives that blend people-first storytelling with strategy. My approach is simple: if your digital content isn’t sparking conversations, you’re doing it wrong.
But my journey hasn’t just been local. In 2023, I made my debut into international sports coverage at the World Continental Tour Gold Championships in Kasarani, organized by World Athletics. Two years later, in August 2025, I returned to the same venue for the African Nations Championship (CHAN) organized by CAF. Both moments reminded me that sport — whether athletics or football — is a universal language, and being part of its global storytelling is a privilege I don’t take lightly.
I’m also the founder of Tukio Images, a platform that aims to change how Africa is seen by amplifying local photographers and their stories. Tukio is close to my heart because it tackles a problem I’ve seen firsthand: too often, Africa is defined by lenses that don’t belong to us. I wanted to create a marketplace where African photographers could lead the narrative.
The “why” behind all this is very personal. I do it because I don’t believe in bland storytelling. Because I think football deserves hype, humor, and human connection. Because Africa’s creatives deserve platforms that value their work. And because I’ve never understood the obsession with looking “serious” at the expense of being effective.
Along the way, I’ve made bold, sometimes controversial moves. I’ve been the youngest in the room more times than I can count, but I’ve never shied away from making a call if I believed it would get people talking. That’s how I’ve built a reputation: not through titles, but through results.
My story is still unfolding, but here’s what I know: I don’t want to be remembered as just another strategist or photographer. I want to be remembered as someone who challenged the norm, shook things up, and proved that storytelling — done boldly, done authentically — is what truly moves people.
So yes, most people know me through Murang’a SEAL. But I want them to remember me for something bigger: for changing how clubs, brands, and photographers tell their stories.
Because in the end, football is entertainment — and if our work doesn’t spark debate, laughter, or inspiration, then what’s the point?
