Ezekiel Mutua was appointed CEO of the Kenya Film Classification Board in late October last year. Before that, he served as information secretary in the ICT ministry. And, way before that, Mutua had a long-spanning career in the media industry, rising through the ranks from a mere trainee reporter in 1994 to sub-editor in 1998 (at Nation Media Group) and, finally, secretary general of the Kenya Union of Journalists between 2001 and 2007.
In January this year, Mutua declared content being distributed online by Netflix as immoral. He was speaking after the US-based internet streaming TV rolled out its services in over 130 countries – including Kenya – worldwide. He claimed Netflix had failed to conform to classification regulations.
And, from that time to date, KFCB has issued a series of bans and enthralled us with dubious theatrics now and again, which have left Kenyans wondering whether Mutua could be mad or… well, let’s just go with mad.
In February, a Kenyan band going by ‘Art Attack’ released the music video to their song Same Love (Remix); a song about same-sex rights. KFCB banned the music video; a foolish move if you ask me, because by then, the video had already been uploaded to YouTube. Matter of factly, their ban only served to popularise the song even more. That video now has over 200,000 views on YouTube as per the time of publishing. When they realised their mistake, KFCB directed YouTube to shut down the video. When that didn’t happen either, KFCB ordered the warm chaps over at YouTube to vacate Kenya. I’m going to pause here, just for dramatic effect. And for you to settle down from that laughter before it chokes you.
Then, in April, Mutua banned those small adverts printed on sheets of paper and plastered all over town of doctors (mainly from Tanzania) claiming to help single people find love or get back their lost property or find jobs or lengthen their manhood. That one was fine by me, and most Kenyans, those chaps seriously need to go. But, as if that was not enough, Mutua here went ahead to ban those huge Crown Paints billboards bearing writings along the lines of, “It lasts longer, unlike your boyfriend.” He ordered for those billboards to be pulled down in 14 days. In the same press conference, Mutua banned advertisements containing ‘graphic’, betting/gambling and alcohol content from airing between 5am and 10pm. This was following the board’s directive last year that media houses broadcasting programmes with adult content between 5am and 10pm stood to face prosecution. And then the other week when the KFCB CEO declared that from now henceforth, all wedding shows and wedding videographers were required, err, no, mandated, to collect permits from KFCB first, Kenyans had had enough of the guy. So he was roasted all over Twitter for two days running and all 47 tribes in Kenya rejected him. Even the Ugandans and the Tanzanians chimed in; the Ugandans saying they were still trying to recover from the last election and had their hands full.
Look here, it is not that I have any problem with the guy, he seems like a nice chap. I only have an issue with his theatrics. If his activities since being appointed to the board are anything to go by, the one thing we can all agree to without any iota of reasonable doubt is that Ezekiel Mutua craves media attention. The guy lives for the cameras; he would kill for a slot on the evening news edition. The truth of the matter is, Ezekiel Mutua is nothing but a socialite in a suit — a very expensive one at that. Let me explain.
You see the way socialites like Vera Sidika and Huddah Monroe and Corazon Kwamboka have to pull a stunt every now and then just so they can appear on gossip blogs and magazines and remind people that they’re still breathing? I mean, one time Huddah Monroe is in love with and dating Prezzo and they’re posting pictures of themselves waking up beside each other on Instagram, the next time, they’re calling each other names and exchanging unprintable expletives and airing out each other’s dirty laundry all over social media. One time, Vera Sidika is getting skin-lightening surgery and putting on weaves worth hundreds of thousands and going out with a loaded Nigerian oil tycoon, the next time, she’s twerking her rear on a private yacht in Ibiza, or pulling her fellow socialite’s hair in some low-budget scripted local reality show. One time, Corazon Kwamboka is in a Koffi Olomide music video, the next time she’s on a private jet scheduled to land somewhere in West Africa. And, here’s the thing, some of these stuff’s not true, but that does not even matter to them. The only thing that matters to them – the only thing that keeps them awake at night – is that not a day passes by when they haven’t made headlines and their faces are the first thing sprawled on every major gossip blog in Kenya.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly how Ezekiel Mutua operates. Make no mistake, the chap is nothing but an attention-thirsty bozo; a camera-hungry scallywag.
So, here’s a free piece of advice from nobody, Sir. Slow your roll, life is never that serious.
