Mowzey Radio’s death made me rethink life – Mesach Semakula – Sqoop

For veteran musician Mesach Semakula, turning 50 is not simply another birthday. It is a milestone he once wondered whether he would reach and one that has made him reflect on the musicians whose lives ended before they could celebrate it.

Semakula will mark his golden jubilee with a concert at Kingdom Kampala on November 13, but the celebrations carry a deeper personal meaning for the singer, who says his own battle with diabetes once left him questioning his future.

At 37, Semakula was diagnosed with diabetes. The news frightened him so much that he fell into depression, withdrew from life and spent most of his time sleeping at home.

It was his daughter who eventually forced him to confront the reality of what was happening.

“She told me she was worried about me and was scared because I wasn’t leaving the house. She told me she had stories that Mowzey Radio’s kids are suffering because of his death. That they were not able to attend school and get everything they needed,” Semakula recalled during a press conference at Kingdom Kampala.

The conversation became a turning point.

Semakula realised that giving up was not only putting his own life at risk but could also leave his family facing the same uncertainty he had seen in the lives of other musicians’ families.

He eventually accepted his condition, sought help and changed his approach to life.

“I am now okay. I no longer have diabetes,” he said.

Now, as he approaches 50, Semakula sees the milestone differently. For him, it is also a reminder of how unpredictable life can be, particularly in an industry that has lost several of its celebrated figures at relatively young ages.

He cited musicians including Paul Job Kafeero, Philly Bongole Lutaaya and Herman Basudde, who died before reaching 50.

“The other reason why this calls for a celebration is because we have lost so many great artists who were not able to reach their 50th birthday. The likes of Paul Job Kafeero, Philly Bongole Lutaya, Herman Basuude among others didn’t, so why shouldn’t I celebrate this milestone?” he asked.

Semakula’s attitude towards birthdays was, for years, far removed from the significance he now attaches to his 50th.

Growing up in the village, he viewed birthday celebrations as childish and something largely associated with women. That attitude occasionally caused friction in his marriage, especially when he forgot to wish his wife a happy birthday.

He eventually made himself a promise: if birthdays were not worth celebrating before, he would make an exception when he turned 50.

That time has now come.

For Semakula, the November concert will therefore be more than a night of music. It will mark half a century of life, a career that has endured several generations and, perhaps most importantly, the opportunity to celebrate a milestone that some of his contemporaries never lived to see.