Joe Ageyo signs out of Citizen TV live on air

Tonight, I begin with a little story. The story of my first day in school a few decades ago. On that chilly morning, I reported to what was then known as Class One. At this point, it is important to point out that my mother – who has since departed - was a teacher – in the very same school.

The first lesson was Mathematics and I was excited. First because my mother was the teacher in front of the class and secondly, I knew practically everything that she was writing on the black wall, having learnt so much from her before I ever stepped into class. So as soon as she gave us an assignment, I quickly scribbled the answers in my exercise book and in less than five minutes I had finished. Then I made a mistake that is the moral of my story tonight.

In my excitement I loudly called out, “Mum, I have finished.” I rushed to her with my open page expecting her to give me a big pat on the back and show me off as a good example to the rest of the class. But instead, without any warning, she descended on me with her cane and began lashing me in front of the class, all the while reminding that me that I did not have any mother in the school. Only teachers. I was perplexed and angry. Why would she beat me up for merely calling her ‘mum’? Wasn’t that what I had called her every single day while we were at home? How could she now turn around to suggest that she wasn’t my mother? And why was she embarrassing her son in front of all these strangers?

I sulked for most of the day but my lifelong lesson was learnt- I needed to play by the book. The job at hand needed to be done without fear or favour. I needed to deliver on my assignment without expecting anyone to cheer me.

Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I am recalling this story because a transition time is also a reflection time. I choose to reflect on these virtues because I strive to live by them every day. But I reflect on them also as a tribute to the wonderful team of colleagues that have kept this bench on fire and in whose professional warmth I have basked for the last four years. I reflect on these virtues tonight because I carry them with me as I sign off from the News Gang tonight.

To my friend Gachuri, the man from Banana, he of the Punchline, who pulls no punches in speaking truth to power. I salute you. In the News Gang you’ve always brought fresh perspectives, a fusion of hands-on knowledge drawn from daily encounters with newsmakers and a dogged determination to learn every day. I will always remember that favourite line of yours – the story is not in what they say, but rather in what they don’t say.

To Yvonne Okwara-Matole, the straight-shooting hard-nosed, old-fashioned scribe, one of the few remaining bastions of real journalism, a true believer in the enduring value of this profession as a force for good. You take on the powerful without fear or favour, hold their feet to the fire and keep them honest. I will miss your wit and guts.

To my friend, neighbour and compatriot, the man to whom I owe my appreciation of our country’s chequered history, Linus Kaikai, or simply LK, as we fondly call him here. You are the veritable encyclopedia of the Gang, fusing the historical and the current into one continuum of contextualised perspectives. You never shy away from kicking up a storm if journalism demands it. In your hands the ship is steady.

Last but not least, to Jamila. My Memo to you is that you colour the gang with humanity and grace. Your compassion for the downtrodden and unquenchable desire to speak for the voiceless in society is the reason journalism exists. Yes, you bring a human face to an otherwise matter-of-fact profession that can often run roughshod over such age-old human attributes as care and empathy or as you would put it - utu! 

This, therefore, has been, one heck of a ride, with its high points and low ones too. But it has all been worth it. I leave tonight an extremely proud man, proud of the mountains we’ve scaled together, proud of the many shoulders there were to lean on when the ride took us to the valley. I have had the privilege of leading the most formidable news team on Kenyan television, the most diverse news team on radio and no doubt a force to reckon with in the digital space too. A salute to my fellow directors and the teams they lead. Your support was invaluable.

I am particularly grateful to my boss, they call him Coach around here, the inimitable Wachira Waruru – who leads us all. Forever the gentleman, I will always remember that one question you always asked jokingly about every story: Does this story matter to your cousin in Kasipul Kabondo? If the answer is No, it probably is not worth covering. Thank you for keeping it real.

And finally, to the ever-vigilant public without whom, this job would be worthless. Thank you for keeping me on toes. But tonight, I must step out, to answer to a new calling, true to the Shakespearean wisdom that “all the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts.”

It is time for me to play another part. Because as the French say, Qui n’avance pas récule - just to say, he who doesn’t advance, recedes.