Mkapa: A story of three generations

Like many Tanzanians, residents of Tanzania and the world at large, on July 24, 2020, I woke up to the shocking news that Retired President Benjamin William Mkapa had passed on. Shocking because many of us were unaware he was sick, let alone his being hospitalised.

In paying tribute to Mkapa, many have explained his achievements in various aspects of his life. From Mkapa the journalist; Mkapa the diplomat; Mkapa the politician; Mkapa the President; Mkapa the person to his impact on business (private sector empowerment); sports facilitation; poverty alleviation, and many other aspects, which, to a great extent explain what he did and, more so, how he made those around him and beyond feel.

I am a believer in doing “what it takes”, but more so guided by the “how”. The later tends to bring humbleness and humility to the equation, no matter how big or small the decision-making position one may be holding – be it a company of three, a household, big organisation, or even the highest office in the land.

And no one puts this concept of thinking about others better than the late American civil rights activist, poet and memoirist Maya Angelou.

According to Wikipedia.com, Angelou is credited with publishing seven autobiographies, three books of essays, several books of poetry, a list of plays, movies, and television shows in over 50 years. She is “best known for her series of seven autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adult experiences,” adds Wikipedia.

One of her quotes stands out for me: “I have learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel!”

As I was pondering what to write, I realised that I was seeing Mkapa vis-à-vis three generations of my paternal side from my grandfather, my father to myself.

Last September I lost my grandfather, Benjamin Makaranga, 94, aka Mkapa, at Bunere Dodoma Village in Bunda District, Mara Region.

He was popularly known as “Mkapa”, or, as my tribesmen and women would pronounce, “Kapa”, for two main reasons. One is obvious – he was his namesake, and the other was the strong resemblance of their characters and values.

My grandpa was a man of principles. As a farmer and lead trader in his village – running the “main shop” selling household items to fellow villagers, who otherwise had to go to Kibara Township, 30 to 45 minutes away by bicycle – he was a well known person. But that didn’t make him big-headed. Instead, he was humble, generous (babu’s lunch and dinner “table” was always packed with either visitors or neighbours). Being receptive, principled, probing and firm earned him respect, and people flocked to him for advice. 

But you couldn’t go to him with tall stories. He would interrogate and challenge your point of view, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to make fools of themselves.

I remember visiting him in the village during one of my holidays while a second-year student at the Sokoine University of Agriculture (SUA).

As we were working on his farm, we noticed that some plants had become brownish in colour. He asked me, “What’s wrong with this plant?” and my response was something like, “We need to conduct soil analysis to know.” Not surprisingly, grandpa fired back, “We’ve taken you to school, and yet you don’t know what’s wrong here? Where will you get a lab here to do your test?” Much as he wanted a solution – which he had anyway – he was highlighting challenges farmers faced that needed to be addressed through extension services. Anyway, that’s a story for another day, but I can assure you it is not the reason I took refuge in journalism after abandoning agriculture about two decades ago. That was “Mkapa”. If you wanted to engage him, you had better be well prepared. He hated generalisations.

With radio being the main source of news in the village, I am told the impact Retired President Mkapa, then Foreign Affairs minister, had on discourse in the village and his firmness and stance on issues he believed in only served to entrench the nickname “Kapa”. Such is the connection – how Mkapa made “Mkapa” feel, or be perceived by the family and fellow villagers.

My grandfather – the younger brother to my father’s biological father – took my daddy in his formative years. He raised and schooled him as his own son. My father thus became the “first born” of that family too. Virtually all that he achieved in life is courtesy of his uncle.

Fast-forward, and my father, Stephen Machumu, remains a staunch believer in Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere.  Like many others of his generation, he adored Mwalimu. He greatly admired his principles. He particularly cherished Mwalimu’s selflessness, and admired Mwalimu’s uncanny ability to defend his arguments or positions kwa nguvu ya hoja, siyo hoja ya nguvu.

Mzee Machumu saw the late Mkapa as a leader who lived the Mwalimu doctrine. A leader who reflected Mwalimu’s principles, ideology and teachings. In him, he saw a true student of Mwalimu – someone, who, despite having different views on the economic front, had ordinary Tanzanians’ best interests at heart. While Mkapa was preoccupied with economic liberation, his teacher was pivotal in liberating us from colonialism. Mkapa and Mwalimu diverged at some stage, but by and large, the fundamental principles of humanity (utu) remained at the core of their being.

So on Friday, July 24, as I was retiring at home after a long day that saw the MCL team produce a special afternoon edition of Mwananchi and the Saturday edition, I called Mzee Machumu, and I am glad that I did. We discussed the shock surrounding Mzee Mkapa’s death. He couldn’t hide his feelings. He was inconsolable. 

“Bakari, Mzee Mkapa ameniuma sana, sana. Nimelia sana.” To be honest I didn’t see it coming. I was speechless for a moment, before I finally uttered, “Pole sana baba”.

“Asante Bakari. Your mother used to say that when you mourn the loss of someone close to you chances are it will remind you of some of your loved ones who have since passed on. So when I was reflecting on his legacy, I couldn’t help but remember your mother!” My mother passed away on Christmas Eve last year.

The 24th date factor aside, my father recalled the impact Mkapa had on Tanzania during his youth, leading to my grandfather – who raised him – being nicknamed Mkapa. And then he linked it with his adoration of Mkapa living Mwalimu’s principles. And Mzee Machumu, who was also nicknamed Mzee wa Sheria, seems to have had similar traits which might explain his admiration of the two.

After graduating from SUA, I joined Business Times, an English business and economic weekly as a trainee journalist/reporter.

I found myself covering a lot of conferences, workshops involving businesses and related associations. The discussions were mostly on issues hindering growth in various sectors, as stakeholders sought to make policymakers aware of various challenges so that they could formulate appropriate laws and policies.

They were very beneficial sessions. I eventually had many contacts within the Confederation of Tanzania Industries (CTI), Tanzania Chamber of Commerce, Industry and Agriculture (TCCIA), Tanzania Mining Chamber, CEO Roundtable of Tanzania, Tanzania Private Sector Foundation, Economic and Social Research Foundation (ESRF), Tanzania National Business Council (TNBC), Tanzania Investment Centre (TIC) Ministry of Industry and Trade, Ministry of Finance, and many others.

I attended TNBC forums where President Mkapa invited top international CEOs and local ones to engage with his government – relevant ministers in business-related or facilitation dockets – and where possible make decisions right away.

This had a big impact on my thinking on how things ought to be managed. What the meetings revealed was the need to consult widely and engage each stakeholder towards a common goal. It is worth noting that Mkapa allowed the media to be present under his famous slogan Uwazi na Ukweli (transparency and truth).

At a special dinner organised by the CEO Roundtable of Tanzania in Dar es Salaam earlier this year, Mzee Mkapa shared leadership thoughts with CEOs – picking from his experience and his book, My Life, My Purpose: A Tanzanian President Remembers. He was asked, “What should (business) leaders consider when making decisions? His answer: “Consultations, consultations, consultations. Consult widely.” 

Many writers have highlighted his desire to build institutions necessary for the nation’s prosperity.  This was appreciated by his successor, Retired President Jakaya Mrisho Kikwete, when I interviewed him shortly after his nomination as CCM’s presidential candidate in 2005. 

“Continuity,” was his response when asked what his strategy will be in spurring economic growth in view of the solid foundation laid by his predecessor.

While Mkapa made my grandfather proud to be Tanzanian and my father admire his selflessness, by allowing the media to participate openly and fully in high-level discussions, President Mkapa made me realise the importance of my contribution – through my pen – to building our nation. I  am forever indebted – a perfect excuse for me to abandon agriculture in favour of journalism!

Asante sana, Mzee Mkapa, for imparting these feelings to my grandfather, my father and myself. I think our three stories are representative of millions of other narratives across Tanzania.

Go well. Tangulia, President Mkapa.

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Bakari S. Machumu is the acting Managing Director and current Executive Editor of Mwananchi Communications Ltd, publishers of Mwananchi, The Citizen, Mwanaspoti and Mwananchi Digital