For jazz saxophonist Isaiah Katumwa, the death of Moses Matovu is not simply the loss of a celebrated musician, but the passing of a generation that helped make a life in Ugandan music possible.
When Isaiah Katumwa began finding his feet as a young musician, there were already artists whose careers offered a glimpse of what could be achieved through discipline, persistence and devotion to the craft.
Moses Matovu was one of them.
The veteran musician’s death has left Katumwa mourning a friend and elder whose influence, he says, reached far beyond the songs he performed or the stages he occupied.
Katumwa received the news of Matovu’s passing with what he described as a “very heavy heart”, but his tribute quickly moves beyond grief to the larger question of what Matovu’s life meant to Ugandan music.
“To me, Moses was far more than one of Uganda’s greatest musicians,” Katumwa said. “He was a pioneer, a mentor, an inspiration, and one of the people whose life helped many of us believe that a serious, lasting music career was possible here in Uganda.”
That possibility was itself part of Matovu’s legacy.
At a time when building a sustainable career in music was difficult, Matovu demonstrated through decades of work that musicianship could become a lifelong vocation. His association with Afrigo Band, one of Uganda’s most enduring musical institutions, placed him at the centre of the country’s live-band tradition for generations.
Katumwa was among the musicians who watched that journey from a distance before eventually finding his own path.
“As a young musician finding my way, I looked at people like Moses, and I saw proof that an African musician could dedicate his whole life to the art and be respected for it,” he said.
“That example meant more than he may ever have known.”
For Katumwa, Matovu’s importance was therefore not measured only by his musical achievements. It was also found in the example he set for musicians who came after him.
“Long before many of us found our own place in this industry, Moses had already helped create the path,” he said.
Through his musicianship, discipline and consistency, Katumwa said, Matovu became part of “the very foundation on which generations of Ugandan musicians have stood.”
It is a legacy that Katumwa believes should not be overshadowed by the circumstances surrounding Matovu’s final days.
He chose instead to remember the longer story—the music, performances, relationships and encouragement that defined decades of Matovu’s life.
“It is difficult to speak of a life of such significance only in the context of the circumstances in which it ended,” Katumwa said.
“I choose instead to remember the decades that came before that final moment—the music, the stages, the lives touched, the musicians encouraged, and the quiet ways he shaped our industry.”
That perspective reflects the place Matovu occupied in the memories of musicians who came after him: not simply as a performer, but as one of the figures who helped establish the traditions on which Uganda’s contemporary music scene was built.
Katumwa described the loss as one felt at both a national and personal level.
“Uganda has lost an icon. Our music industry has lost one of its great pillars. And many of us have lost someone we regarded as an elder, a big brother in music,” he said.
His final words to his longtime friend were therefore less about mourning than gratitude.
“Moses, thank you for the music. Thank you for the road you helped build for those of us who came after you,” Katumwa said.
“Your contribution will live far beyond this moment, and your name will remain written permanently in the story of Ugandan music.”
For a musician whose own career was partly inspired by those who came before him, Matovu’s passing marks the end of a personal chapter—and the loss of one of the people who showed that Uganda’s music could be more than a moment.
It could be a lifetime.
“May your soul rest in eternal peace,” Katumwa said.
