A lost opportunity to shake the hands of legendary musician Oliver Mtukudzi
I continue to rue this day – when I missed the opportunity at least, to shake the hands of the legendary Zimbabwean musician, the Late Oliver Mtukudzi. The man who shot to dizzying heights with his unique and captivating music, died on January 23, 2019 at the age of 66. He was said to have died of heart failure related to diabetes.
From the 1970s he has recorded several albums. He has been described among others as Zimbabwe’s most outstanding musician.
I don’t remember when I first came into contact with Mtukudzi’s music, but I have been glued to it since. This piece was inspired as I listened on repeat to his music titled Mkuru Mkuru.
Ntukudzi was a master of the craft of soothing and titillating music. His guitar playing skills reverberate through all his music and often leave the listener wanting more, and there was his voice – the voice that remains only his.
Back to that fateful day, at OR Tambo Airport in Johannesburg. I had arrived from Durban after COP 17 had ended. I had been invited to cover the climate change conference in the historical city of Durban. The conference was over, and I was heading back home to Accra, with Maxwell Awumah of the Ghana News Agency. We were certain we were on time. But we weren’t. I had made an appointment to meet my friend Nkosana Ngwenya for coffee at the departure hall. We were meeting in person for the first time. Ngwenya has been following me for years after discovering and reading my articles. We became friends online. But while I was passing through Johannesburg that day in December, I thought it would be a good time to meet. So we did. But that was how we missed our Air Namibia flight on transit through Windhoek to Accra. The check-in gate closed upon us just as we reached it.
We had to pay a penalty of about $150 to be booked on the next flight, which fortunately was the following day.
Now we had to figure out what to do. Where to stay for the rest of the day in Johannesburg till our flight next morning.
I put a call through to Ngwenya and he offered to graciously pick us up from the airport to spend the night at his home.
Ntukudzi was a master of the craft of soothing and titillating music. His guitar playing skills reverberate through all his music and often leave the listener wanting more, and there was his voice – the voice that remains only his.
While waiting for him to arrive, I was sitting with our baggage clustered around my feet. Maxwell, had gone to some part of the airport, leaving me to watch over the baggage including his. That was when I saw Mtukudzi walk across the terminal.
I gasped for breath, as I tried to hold back my excitement for seeing one of Africa’s music greats. He was in a hurry, and I could only imagine he was rushing to catch a flight. I impulsively wanted to dash towards him, and at least shake his hand, and possibly take a selfie. But I couldn’t. The reputation of some airports wouldn’t allow you to take your eyes off your baggage for a minute. And that was how I remained stuck to my seat as I watched Mtukudzi walk across the terminal. A missed opportunity never to be had again.
I had hopped that I would get to meet him one day. But that would never happen, as some eight years later, the legend leaves this earth.
Mtukudzi is gone. But his legacy lives on, and I never forgot that experience of seeing him in person for the first and only time.
By Emmanuel K Dogbevi
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