Presidential Press cameraman, Musa Sakwa and Press Officer Lee Njiru covering President Jomo Kenyatta in Nakuru in 1977. Musa Sakwa has died after a long illness.
If there is life after death, then Mzee Jomo Kenyatta, the first President of Kenya, must be happy to see Musa Alushula Sakwa.
Musa, the cinematographer who filmed Mzee Kenyatta’s last official function on August 21. 1978, died on September 30, 2024, after a long illness. He was 80 years old.
On this fateful day, Musa filmed Mzee Kenyatta’s luncheon that the President had hosted for Kenya’s envoys abroad, who had been recalled for briefing.
Later, he covered the last function at Msambweni Primary School in Kwale where Mzee Kenyatta caused panic after he collapsed in a makeshift washroom. The President would later die in his sleep in the wee hours of the following morning —August 22, 1978.
When I joined the Presidential Press Unit in 1977, Musa was one of the television cameramen. Others were Mwangi Mumo, Emmanuel Okoth and John Muyeshi. They all have left us.
In Mzee Kenyatta’s crew— which included television cameramen, reporters, photographers, soundmen, producers, public address technicians and drivers— there were 25 of us.
It breaks my heart to realise that out of all these people, and after the recent death of Musa, only five of us are still alive. The youngest is Robert Ndegwa, who is 72 years and worked as a driver in our team
The others are John Omenda (producer), Jacob Kimani (public address technician), Billy Kibotte (soundman) and Justin Kinyua (photographer).
On Tuesday, August 27, 2024 I paid a nostalgic visit to Msambweni Primary School, now renamed Jomo Kenyatta Primary School. It was interesting that the two Deputy Headmistresses who welcomed me, Madam Sabibu Kulonda and Madam Jacinta Ngonyo, were not born when Mzee Kenyatta collapsed at the school at the significant event that my colleague Musa diligently recorded.
When President Daniel arap Moi took over in August 1978, the entire Jomo Kenyatta Press crew continued to serve the new administration, only separated by transfers, retirements and involuntary attrition.
Musa, who worked with me throughout President Moi’s administration, stood out for his sense of humour and dedication to work. The President loved him because of these qualities.
I remember one particular day when we were flying from Athens, Greece, in the presidential jet. As the President was relaxing in his luxurious cabin, Musa, using his official 16mm cine-camera, knelt before him and started filming.
The Head of State became furious and shouted, “Wewe, unafanya nini?” (“You, what are you doing?”)
Musa, unfazed, calmly told him, “Mzee, kazi yako ni kutawala Kenya, na yangu ni kupiga picha,” meaning “Sir, your job is to lead Kenya, and mine is cinematography”
Taken aback by the unexpected response, President Moi smiled and told him, “See me when we get to Nairobi.” Musa did see him — and smiled all the way to the bank.
When Mzee Kenyatta died in 1978, his first son by Mama Ngina, Uhuru Kenyatta, was only 17 years old. He could, therefore, at that time not appreciate the role of the press in popularising his father and his policies.
However, in 2018, while celebrating the 40th anniversary of his father’s death, he agreed to meet and host the survivors of his father’s press crew. Uhuru Kenyatta was at the time Kenya’s fourth president.
As I led the team of seven to the event, I could not fail to notice that Musa’s speech was incoherent and not congruent with his gestures. I later learnt that these were the early signs of Alzheimer’s disease, which he battled with until his death at the end of last month.
Musa went to Ingotse Secondary School in his native Kakamega District (now Kakamega County), Kenya Institute of Mass Communication and London School of Film.
As we buried him on Saturday, October 12 in his rural village of Ibinzo in Butsotso, Kakamega County, it was the end of an era for one of the most talented photojournalists I have ever worked with.
Fare thee well, Musa.
