Just like every other child growing up in Uganda at the start of the 21st century, one thing that united families was radio. TCs were not yet as affordable as they are now, and our conservative parents were not going to take us to concerts, even if Teacher Okello had promised to give 10 marks to everyone who attended in the next maths exam. With radio stations at their peak, it was not different in my mom’s house, and that is where my first experiences with Afrigo Band were on the radio.
Having elder siblings meant my ear would then switch to Young Money and Radio & Weasel through my teenage years. Then came the lockdown during the Covid 19 pandemic. With all that time, I managed to understand and listen to old Ugandan music in detail. This is when I got to actually fall in love with Afrigo Band.
By then, Moses Matovu had already spent decades building the institution I was only beginning to appreciate. Born in 1949, he came of age in the hopeful years after independence, but the political turmoil that followed the 1966 attack on the Lubiri changed the course of his life. A Buganda Kingdom bursary was lost, his father had suffered an accident, and Matovu chose to let his sisters continue their education while he went out to hustle.
Fortunately for Uganda, the young man had talent to spare. Before music, he played football for clubs including Express and SC Villa. He later joined Cranes Band alongside musicians such as Tony Ssenkebejje, Billy Mbowa and Eddy Ganja. When Cranes split, Matovu and his colleagues built Afrigo, beginning with limited equipment and performing around Bat Valley. Even the name reflected his vision: Afrigo, Africa Go.
When Jeff Ssewava left the country, Matovu took over the mantle. The rest is history.
Then came my first live experience with Afrigo Band in October 2022. I remember that day vividly. It was a Smack League finale. With obviously a few bottles in. Things I remember that day are that they were at Kampala Rugby Club, formerly Legends, about 3 hours before the show. Mzee Matovu himself took part in the setting up and wiring. He was such a perfectionist and had attention to detail that, even at his stature, he would have time to ensure he supervised and got the perfect thing.
That performance was memorable. I saw a few clips this week of my mates and I dancing to Afrigo music. They performed all their hits, and the song that stuck with me that day was Teri Mubi, the collaboration with Joseph Mayanja. How they managed to blend his calm and reassuring voice with the rough and vibrant Jose Chameleone alongside the instruments is one for the ages. My neighbours at the hostel and roommate Isaac Namulya can testify that the entire floor got to know the lyrics of that song as it became a daily meal for them to feast on.
A lot has been said about Matovu, but since that day when I followed Afrigo religiously, I have seen them several times and watched their videos thousands of times. And each and every one of them feels like a first time. The clearness with which they are makes one just see the perfection that saw him lead this historical band for 50 years.
We normally throw around words like generational talents to mean someone who has topped a generation, but Moses Matovu is a lifetime great. What the young people call GOAT. His greatness was not only in performing. He recruited, mentored and worked with generations of musicians, helping Afrigo remain relevant while Uganda itself kept changing around it.
I have seen many commentators talk about who replaces Matovu in Afrigo. This is the same mistake they made when Radio passed on. Just like Radio, there can only be one Moses Matovu, and therefore he cannot be replaced. However, I trust Afrigo Band has the right members and fortitude to go through this, seeing how much turbulence they have experienced in 50 years, right from the political environment of the country to internal challenges.
Some people do not build careers. They build institutions.
Moses Matovu did that. He gave Uganda songs, musicians, memories and five decades of music. For those of us who met him first through a radio speaker, then through a lockdown playlist, and finally under the lights at a live performance, perhaps that is the most beautiful thing about his legacy.
We did not know him personally.
But somehow, he became part of our lives anyway.