Mkapa farewell: ‘Decent, cerebral and quietly generous’
When I was invited by this newspaper to write a tribute to our late President Benjamin William Mkapa, I demurred – for two reasons. First, since his passing last week, most that needed to be said about him has already been said. Secondly, in describing his personality, leadership and legacy, I cannot match the precision and eloquence of those who worked with him for many years and knew him best. Nevertheless, I was convinced that sharing a personal take is worthwhile.
I turned 18 in 1992, and therefore had an opportunity to vote for the first time in 1995. In electoral politics, you either fall in love with a candidate that touches your soul or fall in line behind your party’s choice. I fell in love with “Candidate Mkapa” on the day of the first, and since then, the only presidential debate to have ever taken place in Tanzania.
The election was set to be fiercely competitive; the opposition party NCCR-Mageuzi had a formidable and widely popular candidate in Augustine Lyatonga Mrema, who was sweeping the country with enviable, but scary, euphoria. The debate was set up at the then Kilimanjaro Hotel, with four leading candidates participating. The general mood leading up to the debate was anticipatory. Mkapa, a technocrat in practice, was neither a political or CCM party fixture, nor was he known for rousing oratory, such that Mrema dubbed him “Bubu”(a mute). If the narrative was that Mkapa couldn’t speak, his debate performance was going to be proof of his life.
Few weeks before, the then Speaker of Parliament, Pius Msekwa, had claimed that “Mr. Mkapa is made of ferrous material of the highest quality and of exceptional tensile strength…during the next month or two, the opposition parties and indeed the rest of the country will learn of what metal Benjamin Mkapa is made of”. Few days before the debate, Mr. Kingunge Ngombale Mwiru, then CCM party ideology and publicity secretary, had boasted that “our candidate is ready to debate anywhere, at any time, and in any language – be it in English, Kiswahili or French.” These assurances by Msekwa and Ngombale didn’t go much further in assuaging the worry that CCM supporters had about Mkapa as a campaigner.
So, on debate day, I sat alone with a borrowed radio and tuned in, almost trembling. Halfway through the debate, Cheyo was delivering flat jokes, Mrema was confused and Lipumba was meandering. And, in a booming, clear and confident voice Mkapa delivered a masterful performance which left no doubt about his vision for the country and readiness for the presidency. While there were still many weeks of campaigning ahead, it was clear that CCM had picked a leader. Among the candidates, he may not have been a celebrity, but he was cerebral.
For me, that performance was among the first classes in my political education – in that, verbal flights, comedy and lectures are not the ways to convince the electorate that you merit their trust; that high office has to be pursued with solemnity and seriousness that it deserves, and that competence in the language of political communication is extremely important as it empowers a political leader for exact and considered expression. The debate performance introduced me not just to Mkapa’s political style but also to his personality – preparedness, earnestness, and seriousness.
Two years after he became President, I went to study abroad. While there, whenever I came across books that I thought he would like, I would pack them and send them to him through his long term personal assistant, Ambassador Ombeni Sefue. On occasions, I would get a letter of thank-you signed by him. In my education, I have been a beneficiary of his legendary immense quiet generosity. And when I got married, he came to my wedding and gave the best of compliments.
Fast forward, I joined State House late 2005 as an aide to President Jakaya Kikwete. One of my tasks at State House was handling presidential correspondences – reading hundreds of letters that the President receives and drafting responses for his review and signature. To orient myself to this task, I went through old files – to learn how past presidents wrote their letters. In Mkapa letters, I found tremendous lessons in courteousness, gentlemanliness and a sharp pen, which inspired me to attempt to write just a fraction as good. I recall seeing a 2003 letter in which the former President of Gabon, the late Omar Bongo, wrote to all African leaders informing them of an addition to his surname, writing that he should now be addressed as Omar Bongo ONDIMBA. The letter was simple and general, but Mkapa’s response was beautiful and personal, which spoke of his esteemed manners.
I saw an additional side of Mkapa, and learnt another lesson from him, when I traveled with him to Bloemfontein, South Africa, in January 2012 for the ANC Centenary Celebrations. I was then CCM’s Head of Political Affairs and International Relations department. He was head of our (CCM’s) delegation for the visit. At the gala dinner, I felt our table placement was not sufficiently prominent, given Mkapa’s stature and Tanzania’s contribution to South Africa’s liberation struggle. My anxiety was made worse when the Master of Ceremonies, which incidentally was Cyril Ramaphosa, back then not yet the President, forgot to recognize us. I fretted and attempted to pass a note to him on stage. Mkapa recognized my anxiety and held my hand and said, “relax, the most important thing is that we are here”. Fortunately, much later, we were recognized – and Ramaphosa spoke at length about Tanzania. We felt good and proud. Through that moment, Mkapa taught me that prominence is good when it comes to you, not when you seek it.
My last engagement with Mzee Mkapa was last year, when he agreed to headline a fundraiser requested by a local church in my home district of Lushoto. It was a humble and small event, and some in our team felt that he might feel that it does not befit his stature. But he agreed because, for him, the cause, not the spotlight, was the most important thing. To guarantee a decent attendance for the fundraiser, we requested him to write an invitation letter to people we were going to ask to donate money. He agreed but requested that we provide him with a draft of the letter. I did the draft. When his signed letters came back for distribution, I read it again. He didn’t change a word. I was as giddy as a standard 7 student who got an A on a mock exam he didn’t expect to do well.
We have lost not just a great leader but also a good, decent man who represented, to the world, the best of Tanzania. The new generation of political leaders has a lot to learn from his example. May he rest in eternal peace.
