Prof Mwenda’s love for music and secret to contentment

He is trained in language education (Master of Arts in Kiswahili at Kenyatta University and cultural anthropology (Master of Arts and PhD Cultural Anthropology, University of Illinois).

He is more than a scholar, he is a lateral thinker, a lover of music (“as a social text”), a parent, a husband, and a reluctant author of a book boiling in him.

[Chuckles] Yes. And my thesis was on a musician called Ramazani Mtoro Ongala. Remmy Sura Mbaya. You might have heard of him.

Exactly, his signature song. I interviewed Remy in his Sinza home. It was the first African house I’d been to where dogs were lying inside the house. He had a big python skin on the floor as part of the decor. He was an incredible artiste with a lot of sense of belonging to the masses. He had come from Congo and settled in Tanzania. But people always said he was a musician for the downtrodden.

I have always had an interest in music as a social text. And if you scratch beneath the surface, I’m very keen on social justice. I did my PhD on Taarab music, again in Kiswahili.

I then moved to the US to study anthropology, which is the study of what makes us human. I I did my Master’s in Kiswahili because I was interested in finding out how the language has enabled us to be as African as we can.

I just love music. I don’t play, or sing, but I love listening to music. It’s a medium that articulates so much and sort of transcends different social, and cultural boundaries. I remember when we were young, we would listen to Congolese music.

We had no idea what they were saying but we would repeat the songs, and we loved it. Also, it’s by listening that you find songs that have deep meanings, make sense to you, and resonate with your life circumstances. So, I’ve always had an interest in it.

Amazingly, yes. I started with a desire to become a lawyer. I don’t know where it came from because in the village I grew up there was no lawyer.

Maybe I was attracted by the idea of making persuasive arguments, just like what I saw in the debates in school. I wanted to win debates and argue things.

Eventually, I had my wins when I was trained as a teacher to put ideas together. I especially enjoyed literature because of the ability to use language to express certain thoughts. That is how I ended up at Kenyatta University.

I grew up in Meru. I was always curious and asked a lot of questions. I spent a lot of time listening to older people. I would sit with wazees (elders) especially my grandparents. I was also fascinated by poetry and philosophical things.

My folks were teachers and so we tended to follow them up. I can’t remember being truant or wayward. When I picked up on a thing, I was like a dog and a bone. I would be upset when people were late or didn’t honour their word.

One of the traits that ran through my life is a sense of confidence and knowledge of self, which I think has been very helpful because I’ve gone and worked abroad. I lived in the US for 20 years.

I went there for my postgraduate studies and started a family. When I first returned to Kenya, we had one child. After a while we went back to the US as a bigger family; two children and lived there for 14 years.

But at some point, I realised that the great things I was doing there would be more appreciated where I came from. Luckily, I was in touch with the higher education sector, so I knew my way around. I came back as the CEO of the Commission for University Education.

Yes and no. Yes, in the sense that there is an underlying caution, seeing as the university has never had a local Kenyan vice-chancellor in its 60 years.

No, because success comes from investing in other people and a complex organisation like this is run by many people. I’ll be successful because there are many other people in this game. It requires all of us to be aligned.

Coming from the public sector, it’s funny how similar people are no matter where they are because I see the things we accuse the government in the private sector as well.

As a cultural anthropologist, I understand culture is so powerful, especially when it comes to what I call WIINFM [What is in it for me]. I don’t know, it’s almost like we breathe it in the air.

Number one, we have to see public resources as our resources. You know how they say hiyo ni mali ya uma (that’s public property)? We have to see it as I’m stealing what isn’t mine.

Number two, we have no consequences. You know, if I jump the traffic light and it’s captured on camera and I spend a day in the cell or pay a fine, the behaviour will change. If there are no consequences, we’ll still do these things.

If you have a visa appointment at an embassy, will you go in late?  No. Because you will be denied the visa or forfeit your chance for an interview. But we are always late for our meetings, blaming traffic. That’s because there are no consequences. We need to reward good behaviour.

Currently, we are rewarding bad behaviour with positions in public offices and cheering unscrupulous individuals on social media because they are driving a top-of-the-range car that they can’t account for.

University. When you’re in university, you’re all coming from very different places and different social structures, but at that point, you are the same. You have access to the same lecturers, the same loan facilities – we called it Boom.

At the university you’re finally figuring out who you are and it being a centre of diversity, you are meeting people who challenge you because they are smarter than you. So, it’s fun because I was exposed to so much talent, made good friends, and tried a lot of things.

I’m turning 60 this month.

Yes. My idea of a 60-year-old is a person who has been consistently pursuing their goals in life, has made a mark in their field, and feels now they are at the point where they are growing others. It’s the one who has had so many experiences that now can become a wealth to share with others.

As a scholar, I feel like I’ve done what I needed to do. So USIU is the best spot because I see myself in these young people many years ago.

I have one wife and two girls, both in academia. One is finishing up a PhD at Northwestern Chicago, the other just started a Master’s degree at NYU in New York.

My wife also has a doctorate in higher education. Perhaps the youngest will be under pressure because her sister is already in a PhD programme. They both did biology for their undergraduate studies. Then the elder one went into sports management.

It’s called My Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. It’s about takers and leavers. It’s this conversation with a gorilla. It’s a philosophical conversation about whether one is a leaver or a taker.

Do you leave things behind or want to take them from the universe? That sense of greed, ownership over consumption.

The university, as I’d like to tell people, is about citizenship. It’s about belonging in a world with others. It is the only place where you pursue knowledge and activities that are not just about you.

But we’ve just let universities become job training grounds and statistics show that historians become bankers, lawyers become writers and doctors go to farms. So, if we think this university thing is because we want to produce certain people, we’ve lost it.

The question is how do you train people first to learn a little bit about themselves, about the world, and how to live with others competing for similar interests? So, it’s not enough.

I like a culture where people are educated enough to think critically and use that knowledge. With all kinds of religious doctrine and political doctrine going around, give me an educated person anytime.

The United Negro College Fund says, if you think education is expensive, try ignorance.

The best thing I learned in my early life was to serve others first. And things will come. When you’re pursuing things for your own sake, you miss opportunities.

When you serve others, you realise the minute you remove the target from yourself, you start to see many other things. And how much is enough? You have to come to terms with yourself. You know, right now, I’m thinking, what do I need if I live?

I’ve decided I’m living to 98. My grandma died at 98 and I want to be her age. So, I ask myself now, for the next 38 years, how much will I need to live a comfortable life? Just my wife and I.

The children have their education from us so they can fend for themselves. So, you have to decide what is enough. Do I want to be seen in six different houses? Unless you come to terms with that, you’ll be chasing. If you live for applause, you’ll die by rejection.