By Dedan Kimathi
I started writing this tribute about the late Alexander Musajja-Mukulu, on August 23, 2026. Along the way, I was overcome with emotion and reservations about whether what I was about to write would be understood by our people especially, the constituency which I represent, those that have barely seen days.
However, yesterday night, September 11, 2026, as I prepared to lay my head down or okukuba engalabi yange ekigwo in urban Luganda, something told me to press on and finish what I started.
Throughout this time, one question that’s been on mind relates to how many polymaths Uganda is rapidly losing and the impact this has on generational knowledge.
Polymath, because Mukulu was a celebrated playwright, thinker, musician and opinion leader.
And, Generational knowledge, because without our language, skills, values and traditions, our belonging ceases. Just like it happened with the Red Indians and in some instances, enslaved Africans in some parts of America.
Although the spirit of Mama Africa is undeniably very much alive in many of our kin in Colombia’s Cartagena and San Basilio de Palenque polities, dominant in Haiti where it is said that 98% of the population is catholic and 2% protestant but 100% voodoo.
The other area which has strived to preserve our heritage mainly through music is Jamaica and Brazil.
What Reggae, Ragga are to Jamaica, Capoeira, Candomble and Samba are to Brazil. As I write this piece, I can hear Sergio Mendez’s classic “Mas que Nada” reverberating through my soul.
What do we have left?
Take a minute and ask yourself: as a 63-year-old country struggles to discover its true self, what is left of ours?
Our native traditions, music and languages are teetering on the brink of extinction. A blame I would squarely place on the majority of our educated parents, who thought that to be true citizens of a civilized world, they had to do away with everything that bore resemblance to anything local.
As such, many of us, millennials and Gen Z, have been raised on Hollywood, Premier League, gangster hip-hop and more recently, Nigerian Afrobeat and Amapiano.
We often forget that, before going global, the above genres were a local form of expression. They grew because their own people consumed them and believed in them, until they broke even and eventually conquered the Global market.
The same should be the case with our traditional theatre and folk music such as Kadongo Kamu and related genres. If it were not for our selective amnesia.
I, for one, was surprised to discover that Mukulu’s Abenamutumba which, to me, is by far his best song, has only 62,000 views on YouTube. And yet, given his mastery of delivery and use of literary devices such as euphemism, wit and symbolism, the song stands out as a remarkable piece of art.
On the contrary, a daft Amapiano song featuring butt-shaking and half-naked vixens, sometimes without even a single meaningful lyric, would double those views in a single day.
Way forward
Going forward, if we are to ably deal with a myriad of issues in which our societies find themselves entangled, we must make cultural preservation a top priority (Okusosowaza).
Additionally, we must also celebrate our heritage, cultural custodians and Griots.
As our foremost anti-colonial leader Marcus Moziah Garvey, once remarked “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots”. So shall we become when we no longer have anything to hold on to.
As the Baganda say “Olumbe olunatta wambwa, lusooka kumuziba nnyindo” (What will kill a dog starts by first blocking its ability to smell).
Suffice to note, our Continent because of the richness of our culture and precious minerals, our land holds, has always been a target of outside interests.
To bring today’s sermon to an end, I will cite a Runyankore/Rukiga proverb “Abarinda wakame bazoora amaisho”. Which implies that those hunting a rabbit must remain highly alert.
The writer is descended from peasant parents, Dedan Kimathi wa Kanyoro (Kampala-Uganda)
