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Last week I was invited to be one of the speakers at the launch of Manu Chandaria’s biography, From Success to Significance, and what an amazing event it was, where over 600 people were gathered to celebrate the life of this extraordinary man.

I opened my talk by saying it’s nearly half a century since I first met Manu, who at the time was already half a century old. He then had none of his current six honorary degrees, I noted, and he had no OBE and no CBS or EBS. But he was already a highly successful industrialist and philanthropist, having even by then achieved significance beyond success. I met him when I joined the Rotary Club of Nairobi in 1978, I said, which he had been a member of since 1963, becoming its president in 1982 – four years before I led the Club.

Kalonzo Musyoka was with us at the launch, and I described how in the late seventies I interacted with ‘young Steve’ as we called him then, adding that it’s so hard to imagine he’s now approaching seventy! I explained that our Rotary Club awarded him a post-graduate scholarship in Cyprus, following which he joined our club and was employed first by Kaplan & Stratton and then as the Legal Manager at Manu’s Comcraft.

I talked about Manu’s support for two of our club’s signature projects, both of which I was part of in their early years: the Rally for the Handicapped, as it was then called, which launched in 1979 and is now known as the Sunshine Rally, and the Rural Blindness Eradication Project, that began in 1985. Manu continues to be very active in our club, both with providing funding for many initiatives and in contributing to our WhatsApp group.

I then turned to Manu’s support for Business Member Organisations, and particularly with KEPSA, whose founder chairman he was in 2003, where I too was one of the founder directors. Anyang Nyong’o was in the room, and I pointed him out as the man who provoked its formation, as Minister of Planning. It was in February 2003, at a conference in Mombasa where David Ndii and Harris Mule launched the Economic Recovery Strategy, that Anyang Nyong’o took the private sector people present aside and challenged us to speak with one voice. Manu remains active with KEPSA, including as chairman of the board nominating committee, where I am also a member.

Next I talked about Manu as an enabler of universities, funding major buildings and having two of them appoint him as Chancellor, USIU and the Technical University of Kenya. Finally I drew attention to the way he professionalised his companies, in appointing external independent directors at an early stage – like the late Hannington Awori, whose brother Moody was with us – and also non-family members as senior managers. Plus the early establishment of the Chandaria Foundation, despite his father’s initial resistance.

I concluded by praising Manu as a family man, and by appreciating the child within him still being alive. He is what everyone sees: a low-key gentleman, an open listener, and – as Margaret Kenyatta writes in her foreword to the book – humble, kind and generous.

Kalonzo Musyoka was next to speak, and he described Manu as being like a father to him. At Comcraft he learned so much, about the art of negotiating, about putting people together, and so much more. And through Manu and Rotary he was introduced to “service above self”.

Musyoka then introduced Namgya Khampa, the Indian High Commissioner, who told us she has come to love Manu and leans on him for counsel as an elder, as he is also a good friend of India. “You are a hero, and we need more heroes,” she concluded.

Manu’s grand-daughter Nahema told us that Manu is one who rather than adding days to his life adds life to his days. He is everything to everyone when they are most in need, and does it with so much style. And Daystar University VC Prof Laban Ayiro informed us that Manu has been a great supporter of the Global Peace Foundation initiatives at Daystar. Prof. Ayiro was deeply involved in the preparation of the book, which he told us reveals the man behind the accolades.

I’ll end by describing that Manu talked about how to leave a legacy, by giving rather than receiving – which is what takes one from success to significance. He won’t be around forever, he readily admitted, but the Chandaria Foundation will remain, continuing to look after the community. Have I written enough to encourage you to read the book? I think so.

Dan and me in front of his Land Rover in Malawi, 1989

Tomorrow it will be 30 years since my son Dan was killed in Somalia at the age of 22. Dan was a Reuters photojournalist there and he, along with Hos Maina, Anthony Macharia and Hansi Kraus, was attacked with sticks and stones by an angry mob infuriated by the bombing from an American helicopter of a house in Mogadishu where a number of Somali leaders were meeting.

Yes, we knew Dan was operating in dangerous territory, but just as he was confident of his ability to thrive there, we too were hopeful that he would come to no harm.

He was having the time of his life, not only seeing his photos featured prominently in leading global newspapers and magazines — including a double-page spread in Newsweek — but also enjoying selling his T-shirts and postcards, and later a whole book of his photos to diplomats, American soldiers and others.

Dan also ventured into parts of Mogadishu where no one else dared go, including having fun with children, earning the nickname “The Mayor of Mogadishu”.

Dan was one of the media people on the beach who witnessed the cautious landing of the American troops, which became a source of ridicule.

Then, suddenly, this wonderful young man was gone. Who knows how his life would have unfolded had he remained with us?

What would he be up to now in his early 50s? I sometimes idly speculate about that, but mainly I keep focused on how he had been living and hardly on the tragic circumstances of his death.

These days it is not uncommon for funerals to be the “celebration of life” of the person who passed away, and this is how we remembered Dan at his service – which we held at Corner Baridi behind the Ngong Hills, on the land of the Maasai family whom Dan had been helping.

From then I have continued celebrating my son’s life, and the great influence he has had on me — and others — through his vibrant and positive inspiration.

After Dan died, I sought a way to immortalise the essence of Dan by developing the character of young people — something both he and I were active in our own ways.

What emerged was The Dan Eldon Place Of Tomorrow, The DEPOT, which we launched in 1994 as a centre for outdoor experiential learning for youth and evolved into broader management consulting.

Our ethos at The DEPOT reflects how Dan expected his life to unfold and also how I live mine. It is to “have a good time doing good things”, and looking back on our years together I know we reinforced each other in this regard.

There are two thoughts I, therefore, wish to leave you with. The first is that when a close relative passes away, yes it is a time to grieve, to feel sad about the loss of a wonderful person whom you loved dearly.

After my son was killed in Mogadishu, my mind naturally brooded on what happened then — and not least on the American helicopter that I learned hovered above the scene where he was being beaten to death and only landed to pick up his body.

But it turned out that I found it possible to instruct myself to switch away from all that and to focus on his wonderful life rather than on his awful death: on his delightful sense of humour, his artistic talent, his great sense of curiosity and adventure, his spirit of helping others.

From time to time when I talk with someone who has recently lost a close relative, I encourage them to write about the person, perhaps including through poetry, to celebrate their life and the relationship they enjoyed with them.

But also so the memories of the person and what they shared with them can be preserved. And finally, to act as therapy.

My second thought is to encourage all to assume that having a good time is absolutely compatible with doing good things.

Too many believe that doing good things in one’s work, important things, cannot be with a light touch. Not true, as Dan and I have found.

On the contrary, if you are enjoying what you are doing, and helping others to do so, much better outcomes will prevail.

All of us lose loved ones, and at whatever age they pass away we grieve. But pause to also celebrate their lives, and to reflect on how they have uplifted you.