Photo: Dr. Shaka Ssali (left) with Dr. Akinwumi Adesina, President of the African Development Bank.

Shaka Ssali’s long tenure at the Voice of America (VOA) had its challenges and dangerous encounters. The challenges at work were blessings in disguise. The limited institutional support for Straight Talk Africa, his successful program that brought him international fame, compelled him to do his own research and to invite the guests himself, which made him better prepared than he might otherwise have been. 

As Shaka’s fame soared, with easy access to Africa’s rulers, some of his bosses felt uneasy and sought to cut his wings. Shaka had become too big and too popular for comfort. They tried to take editorial control from him, but he resisted them politely. At one point he suggested that he might leave, but his audience numbers were such that his bosses quickly retreated and let him do his thing. 

He had one thing that his bosses lacked: an extensive knowledge and experience of Africa, backed by vast intellectual wealth. Yet he never contradicted them publicly, not even during internal meetings. Shaka expressed his objections to the bosses privately, which almost always yielded what he desired. The stereotype that “the diplomacy of a Mukiga is the sheer lack of it” did not apply to him. He understood the power of softly caressing your boss, without compromising your principles. He looked at the big picture, overlooked the inconsequential stuff, with his eye fixed on the goal. 

His diplomacy did not mean that he allowed anyone to sabotage his mission. In fact, he had a stubbornness that he acknowledged with frequent references to the French song “Comme d’habitude,” popularized by   Frank Sinatra as “I did it my way.” The topics he covered were often considered unworthy by his bosses. Refusing to be edited, he would hold his ground, proceed to air them and score rave reviews from his worldwide audience. He at times declined topics suggested by his supervisors at VOA. 

His other program, Shaka Extra Time, which started in 2013 and lasted until his retirement, was even more popular than Straight Talk Africa. It was usually Uganda’s Paul Ndiho in conversation with Shaka, which gave the latter an opportunity to express his personal views on various subjects.

 Shaka’s bosses wanted him to use European American analysts on Straight Talk Africa. He preferred African analysts, for he correctly judged that African issues were best analysed by people with lived experiences. He was partial to young African analysts.

And so, Straight Talk Africa was Shaka Ssali’s show. He was the last anchor to broadcast live from the studio. After Shaka retired, the very talented Hayde Adams of South Africa, was a worthy successor. However, she had to contend with a recorded and heavily edited show whose audience numbers plummeted from nearly two million to about half a million viewers. She left VOA in April 2024.

Shaka’s easy access to many African leaders caused enough discomfort at VOA and within the government of the United States of America that thorough investigations were launched on two separate occasions to determine whether Shaka was a beneficiary of “gifts” or worse by one or more African governments. Scrutiny of his personal life, including three surprise visits by the FBI to his residence, and thorough reviews of his bank accounts, financial transactions, travel costs, accommodations abroad, his digital trail and his social associates was done. They followed him closely, but they found nothing because there was nothing to find.  

He told me about these investigations with characteristic good humour, and the confidence of one who knew that his professional ethics were beyond reproach. He also told me about multiple attempts by some African governments to bribe him and to do him favours. He always declined politely, telling some: “I am not for sale.” His fidelity to ethical practice, extended to his social interactions with foreign government representatives. He would enjoy meals and drinks with them, but he always paid his own bills.  

What many people may not know is that the Kabaare Kid enjoyed a very simple and humble lifestyle. He lived in the same rented flat from 1992 until his death. It was a spartan affair, a place to live, not a showroom. He had no car for more than twenty years and used public transport on his daily commute to and from his work. He flew economy class, unless his fare was paid by the State Department of the United States. He was a very public figure, but an equally private person. 

Shaka’s happy disposition on live television did not distract him from a constant awareness of those who sought to harm him. Whereas West African and Southern African leaders revered him, some Eastern African leaders and their courtiers were wary of him. Many called the VOA director’s office seeking intervention to muzzle Shaka. 

An ambassador of Uganda to the United States wrote a protest note to the Director of the VOA, seeking Shaka’s removal from his job. The director called Shaka and congratulated him on the work he was doing. He was protected by a “firewall” provision in the 1994 U.S. International Broadcasting Act which prohibited “interference by any U.S. government official in the objective, independent reporting of news.”

Perhaps it was the soldier in him that enhanced an inborn trait of courage against adversity, of daring those he knew would love to silence him. He firmly rejected my suggestion that we seek diplomatic channels to mediate reconciliation with a couple of African leaders that he believed hated him. I regret that failure, for I believe in peace.

There were national leaders that became his personal friends, among them Jerry John Rawlings and John Mahama of Ghana, Olusegun Obasanjo and Goodluck Jonathan of Nigeria, Ali Bongo of Gabon, Daniel arap Moi, Uhuru Kenyatta and Raila Odinga of Kenya, Jakaya Kikwete and Benjamin Mkapa of Tanzania, Kenneth Kaunda, Rupiah Banda, and Hakainde Hichilema of Zambia, Jacob Zuma of South Africa, Bingu wa Mutharika and Lazarus Chakwera of Malawi. Whereas Robert Mugabe received him well at his Blue Roof Palace in Harare, he considered Shaka to be an imperialist sellout and told him so to his face. 

After twenty-nine years at the VOA, twenty of them at the helm of Straight Talk Africa, Shaka stepped off the stage on May 19, 2021. He faded into the evening of a distinguished career but still looking forward to continuing his work through private endeavours. Illness disrupted his plan to relocate to Nairobi, and death closed the door on March 27, 2025. His dream remains alive, awaiting fulfilment by the next generation of African journalists.

© Muniini K. Mulera

Shaka Ssali: The Kabaare Kid that made good very good - Part 3