Mpuse: The Godfather of photojournalism who lit the path for many
Spira Tlhankane | Monday November 24, 2025 08:47
I was a rookie and he was a veteran. Each time we were assigned to an event together, he guided me with patience. He would show me how to approach a story, what angles to consider, and how to carry myself around as a professional. He was fully devoted to his work, never one to waste time with trivialities.
What made our bond instant and natural was our shared home village, Thamaga. To him, I was a young brother. To me, he quickly became the big brother I could look up to. And speaking of looking up to him, Goddy was a multi–award-winning photographer who had practically swept every major accolade. As a sports reporter, I felt privileged working alongside the man who seemed to win the Botswana National Sports Commission (BNSC) photography award every year. While other photographers crowded around the corner of the football pitch, Goddy would sit far back with that iconic BOPA long-lens camera. Then, as if by magic, he would return with a perfect shot, an image worthy of yet another award.
The last time he won, he told me he felt it was time to give others a chance. That was the selfless man he was. In the years that followed, his colleagues Thompson Keobaletswe, Gothusang Lesego, and Phenyo Moalosi went on to win BNSC awards of their own. Goddy had paved the way.
He was loved across the industry, even by colleagues from private media. He was the one who introduced me to the talkative veteran journalist Duncan Kgangkenna. Kgangkenna had a habit of intimidating young reporters, and it was Goddy who stepped in and put a stop to it: “Wena, mona Duncan, lesa go tshwenya ngwana.”
From then on, Kgangkenna eased off. The two men were close brothers, really, even when they teased each other. In fact, Kgangkenna retaliated to Goddy’s warning by inventing a hilarious story that he retold to any journalist who would listen. According to him, during our assignment covering Thamaga’s notorious Matsetsenkane gang back in 2013–14, I supposedly “joined” the gang, prompting Goddy to literally slap sense back into me. It was pure fiction, told with such flair that even we couldn’t help but laugh every time.
But beyond the humour, some moments revealed the steel in Goddy’s character. Two years ago, during the build-up to the elections, we met former robber David July in Palapye. I witnessed firsthand that Goddy was not someone easily intimidated. He recalled photographing July during a court appearance many years earlier, an encounter in which July had threatened him. “I told him outright that I am not the one to mess with,” Goddy recounted, right in July’s presence. “I told him I am not one of the people he was accused of killing.”
To everyone’s surprise, the two had since let go of their past and become friendly acquaintances. July admitted he admired Goddy’s courage at a time when few dared to stand up to him. That encounter taught me something vital that in this profession, you must be bold. No one should bully you out of doing your job.
Even after I left BOPA for Mmegi in 2015, Goddy remained one of the pillars I credited for my growth. Transitioning from State media to private media can be daunting, but people like Goddy made it easier by sharing their wisdom freely, allowing us to drink from their fountain of experience.
Our relationship extended beyond the media industry. In our home village, especially at Heroes Park bar (Ko Ntsweng), I often found him relaxed with his peers. I would greet him, and he would still introduce me as a co-worker, even though we no longer worked together. I proudly played the younger-brother role, often tasked with fetching his Carling Black Label beer, “the black,” as we fondly called it. When I asked how he still managed such a strong drink after all these years, he would laugh and say, “Bo Spira kana le bana; nna sale re nole le santse le tsena sekolo.”
Though I didn’t know every detail of his personal life, he remained a great inspiration. In recent years, I noticed him spending more time in Thamaga, and he told me he had moved back. He once showed me pictures of his home, an achievement that filled me with pride. In this demanding, thankless profession, owning property is rare, yet he had built a legacy that reflected discipline, focus, and commitment.
He was a family man, a consummate professional, and a mentor. He had covered presidents from Festus Mogae to Duma Boko. He had travelled the country and the world. He carried decades of institutional memory and wielded his camera with the soul of an artist; no wonder they called him the Godfather of photojournalism. The media industry has lost a giant. We have lost a brother. And the Mpuse family has lost a father, son, brother, and husband. May the soul of my brother, Goddy Mpuse, rest in eternal peace.