In a rare break from his self-imposed rule of "staying in his lane," comedian and media personality Dr Ofweneke has issued a passionate public appeal to Pastor Victor Kanyari and Hiram Gitau (Tash). His message is blunt, uncomfortable, and necessary: Get Sky off social media immediately.

The intervention comes barely a month after the heartbreaking passing of gospel sensation Betty Bayo on November 10, 2025, from acute myeloid leukemia. While the adults in the room have engaged in a bitter war of words regarding the circumstances of her death, her young daughter, Sky Victor, has taken to YouTube to play the role of peacemaker—a burden Ofweneke insists is too heavy for a grieving child.

The Weight of One Million Views

Since her mother's burial, Sky has remained active online, churning out vlogs that document her family's fragile state. One particular video, where the minor urges Kenyans not to attack her two fathers—biological dad Pastor Kanyari and stepfather Tash—has already amassed over 1 million views. While the numbers scream success, Ofweneke sees a cry for help.

"I never give my two cents about people's lives, but Sky's story has touched me," Ofweneke stated, visibly moved. He argued that the child is being inadvertently forced to manage the public image of two grown men while suppressing her own mourning process.

• The Advice: Confiscate the phone. Let her be a child, not a content creator.
• The Danger: The internet never forgets. Ofweneke warned that the trauma of "performing grief" for an audience could have devastating long-term psychological effects.
• The Reality: Sky is currently the bridge between two feuding camps, a role that exposes her to the toxicity of online commentary.

Caught in the Crossfire

The comedian's warning lands in the middle of a chaotic family feud. Just days ago, Betty Bayo’s brother, Edward Mbugua, publicly accused Tash of keeping the family in the dark about the severity of the singer's illness. Amidst these accusations and counter-accusations, Sky has been filming content, including a recent lunch date with Pastor Kanyari, trying to project a sense of normalcy.

"Sky's phone should be taken away by an adult," Ofweneke insisted. "She needs to grieve like a normal person, away from the likes, the comments, and the scrutiny."

For the Kenyan parent reading this, the situation raises a critical question: In an era where views equal currency, where do we draw the line between documenting a legacy and exploiting a tragedy? Ofweneke’s stance is clear—protect the child’s mental health today, or pay the price for her trauma tomorrow.