By Joseph Mbazzi Muguluma (Immanuel Ben Misagga)
When a great man dies, the first temptation is to imagine that everything he built has died with him.
That is the danger now facing Afrigo Band following the death of Moses “Papa Moi” Matovu, the legendary saxophonist whose music became inseparable from the story of Uganda.
But Afrigo must not become another great institution that disappears because the personality at its centre has gone.
That is the message I would send to Big Brother James Wasula, the man who has carried Afrigo through some of its most difficult seasons.
Papa Moi has gone to the plate kwe batukalangila, that mysterious place where the iron hand takes men of value and places them alongside the forgotten. It is a hand without eyes. It has now taken Matovu, just as it took Tamale Kapeera, Akiiki Mansur and many others whose music once filled our nights.
But it has left behind something more important than the man.
It has left the music.
And it has left Wasula.
For half a century, Wasula has been part of the Afrigo story. Fifty years is not simply a career. It is an institution. Afrigo is not merely a band; it is a musical kingdom, perhaps Uganda’s most enduring one.
And kingdoms must learn how to survive their kings.
The band must not become the monument
History has already shown what happens when an institution becomes too closely identified with one person.
Jimmy Katumba died, and an extraordinary musical chapter closed.
Peterson Tusubira Mutebi passed away, and his theatre lost a voice that could not simply be replaced.
Across Africa, Franco Luambo Makiadi became almost synonymous with TPOK Jazz. When Franco died, the challenge was no longer simply replacing a musician. It was preserving an identity that had become attached to one man.
The lesson is uncomfortable but simple: great institutions must build beyond the people who make them great.
That is precisely the crossroads at which Afrigo now stands.
The world has faced this problem before
The Rolling Stones survived the death of founding member Brian Jones because the band understood that its future could not be buried with one musician.
The Buena Vista Social Club outlived several of the musicians who made its sound famous. Their deaths did not end Cuban music; younger musicians picked up the instruments and carried the tradition forward.
Bob Marley’s death did not end the Wailers or reggae. Musicians who had shared the journey continued to perform and preserve the musical tradition.
Earth, Wind & Fire continued after founder Maurice White’s death because the group’s identity had become bigger than its founder.
And the Duke Ellington Orchestra survived Duke Ellington himself.
That is the principle Afrigo needs now.
Write the music for the chair, not only for the man sitting in it.
Wasula needs to think beyond succession
James Wasula is now carrying one of the heaviest responsibilities in Ugandan music.
He has already survived five decades of changing audiences, changing technology, changing tastes and changing musicians. He has watched Afrigo move through generations while remaining recognisable.
Now he has to do something even more difficult: help Afrigo enter its next generation without losing its soul.
And perhaps the answer is not to search outside the Afrigo family.
Perhaps the answer is already somewhere within Uganda’s musical bloodline.
Mesach Semakula could be part of the bridge
This is where I would put one name on the table:
Mesach Semakula.
Not as a replacement who simply occupies Moses Matovu’s chair, because nobody can become another Papa Moi.
Rather, Mesach could help Afrigo build a bridge between its heritage and its future.
Moi knew Mesach. He mentored him. He recognised his musical ability and saw something of himself in the younger musician.
Mesach understands composition. He understands instruments, sound, equipment and the discipline required to put together a serious performance.
He is experienced, disciplined and known for his attention to musical detail.
That matters.
Afrigo does not need somebody who merely knows how to stand on a stage. It needs musicians who understand what the Afrigo stage represents.
Mesach could bring that experience while working alongside Wasula and the younger generation.
And beside him, there could be room for Aziz Zion.
Let the older generation teach the younger one how to carry the sound, how to respect the stage and how to preserve the discipline that made Afrigo endure.
Build a succession, not a replacement
That distinction is important.
The question should not be: Who can replace Moses Matovu?
There is no replacement for Moses Matovu.
The better question is: Who can help Afrigo remain Afrigo after Moses Matovu?
That requires a structure in which Wasula remains the custodian of the band’s institutional memory while experienced musicians such as Mesach help shape the next chapter.
There are also musicians such as Ssewanyana and Mbalire Frank who could be part of that wider succession structure.
Bring them into the conversation.
Let them learn.
Let them contribute.
Let them inherit the standards before they inherit the spotlight.
Because succession should not begin when the last great musician dies. It should begin while the elders are still alive to teach.
Afrigo belongs to Uganda
This is why the future of Afrigo matters beyond the band’s own members.
Afrigo is part of Uganda’s cultural memory.
It has played at weddings, political gatherings, celebrations, hotel terraces and family occasions. It has crossed generations in a country where musical fashions change almost as quickly as the seasons.
It is Uganda’s national saxophone facing Kifuuta.
The wind may change.
The musicians may change.
The instruments may change.
But the song must continue.
Wasula, you have held the fire through rain.
You have seen musicians come and go. You have watched critics attack. You have heard people say Afrigo belongs to another generation. Yet the band survived.
Now comes perhaps the most important test.
Do not let Afrigo become a museum for the memory of Moses Matovu. Make it a living institution that carries his memory forward.
Let Papa Moi rest.
Let Kapeera rest.
Let Mansur rest.
But let Afrigo play.
Let Mesach come home.
Let Aziz Zion learn.
Let Ssewanyana and Mbalire Frank join the conversation.
And let Wasula, the old pillar who knows where the nails are, remain standing long enough to help the next generation build.
Because a crown does not disappear when the king dies.
It waits for another head strong enough to carry its weight.
Your aged brother,
The Oracle of Kifuuta Kyotera Buddu
Son of the Lake Between Two Mountains
