Film had long been resilient, but a time came when the filmmaking fraternity was forced—albeit reluctantly—to acknowledge that its era was ending. It had lost the imaging war. It could no longer withstand the relentless barrage from the fast-evolving world of camcorders. Even so, certain expressions such as shooting survived the shift and crossed over into the video age.
Magnetic tape took over with the speed of a spreading pandemic. If you can’t beat them, join them—this was the hard truth that veteran film cameraman Henry Bwoka had to embrace.
A film cameraman was expected to possess artistic rigor. He had to avoid under- or overexposing shots, maintain crisp focus, and think deeply about composition so as to produce compelling visuals.
A video cameraman, on the other hand, was not always subjected to such exacting standards. Video tapes were not light-sensitive. Gone were darkrooms, loading bags, and the complex chemical development of latent images.
Even with the arrival of video-based systems, Bwoka did not have to be retrained for every new camcorder model. “It’s like driving a vehicle. Once you know how to drive one, you can figure out another,” he says.
The key, he maintains, is understanding the basic principles of motion picture photography. Many modern camcorders come with automatic exposure controls and built-in light meters that guide the operator toward correct settings. When moving rapidly between indoors and outdoors, features like Auto Tracing White (ATW) balance may take over—conveniences that never existed in Bwoka’s early days.

(Photo: Benedict Wasiche/KNA)
As camcorders evolved, so did the recording media—tapes gave way to discs, memory cards, SSDs and beyond. Bwoka has worked with most of them.
Being a seasoned filmmaker, he would always visualize the final image before pressing the record button. He pushed himself to produce pictures worthy of the silver screen. The cameras he wielded helped him preserve memories of great value.
His wife Jennifer, a teacher, takes pride in his contribution to the nation. “I watched the movies he produced and brought home,” she says. “We would go to Nairobi and Kenya Cinemas. Kenya Newsreel was always shown first.”
The couple married in 1990 while Jennifer was still a student at Kenyatta University. They have two daughters—Tracy, 28, and Brenda, 27—both living abroad.
Imaging Hardware
Watching Bwoka work with heavy filming equipment often stirred empathy in Jennifer. “Carrying those cameras was not easy,” she says. “I used to cry because they were too heavy.”
Brenda fondly recalls, “Dad travelled all over the world showcasing his talent as a cameraman.” She remembers him telling the family how he dreamt of being a cameraman growing up. “His dream came true. The house is full of his memorabilia.”
Bwoka has preserved older film still cameras and accessories, including models from Minolta and Zenit. Brenda adds that he used to teach her and her sister how to take pictures and how to handle microphones when they were young.
“Anyone would feel proud to travel with the president and top government officials in the same plane,” Jennifer says.
When the Betacam series emerged, politicians—some also serving as cabinet ministers—loved it. At events, if print journalists arrived but no cameraman was present, the program would not begin. But once a cameraman pushed through the crowd, the dignitaries on the dais would lighten up—“the journalist” had arrived. Speeches, normally a minute long, would be stretched. Woe unto the cameraman if the item failed to air for any reason.

(Photo: Benedict Wasiche/KNA)
During the days when the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting operated from Jogoo House ‘A’, Assistant Minister Albert Ekirapa once shared a lift with a cameraman returning from fieldwork. On lifting the camera, Ekirapa exclaimed, “It’s too heavy. They should reduce its size.” That era eventually arrived with the DVCAM series—cameras like the DSR-300 and 370, and smaller models such as the PD150 and PD170.
Many public figures initially sneered at the smaller camcorders. “Hii itatoa kweli?” (Will this really record?), they would ask. But in time, the compact units proved themselves, and confidence in them grew.
Video Editing
Television news gathering had its humorous mishaps. A cameraman might be placed on standby for an event, insert a battery and tape, and wait. If the editor later cancelled and then reinstated the assignment, the cameraman might arrive at the venue only to realize—too late—that he had removed the tape and left it in a cabinet.
In some media houses reporters carried the tapes; in others the cameramen did. Mix-ups were common, and colleagues from rival stations often came to each other’s rescue.
Editing, too, transformed radically. Film once had to be physically cut with a splicing tool—a meticulous task where losing even a single frame could throw sound and picture out of sync. The pieces were joined with liquid cement. This was linear editing—slow and labour-intensive.
Video ushered in analogue editing machines, where editing meant shuttling tapes and marking in- and out-points. Today, digital non-linear editing software dominates the landscape.

(Photo: Benedict Wasiche/KNA)
Like his colleague, sound lecturer John Wambulwa, Bwoka has transitioned from film production to farm production. He keeps sheep, ducks, and chicken, and grows crops for subsistence.
After retiring, Bwoka taught camera operations at KIMC and later at the Kenya Film School at Kasarani Sports Centre. Teaching remains his passion.
Together with Jennifer, he co-directs ORRECC School for Orphans, which runs both primary and junior secondary wings. “At school, he’s a father to many, but at home, he’s a father to two—my sister and me,” Brenda says.
At the school, his love for teaching shines. He teaches mathematics and, naturally, photography to curious learners. He hopes that the skills he imparts will inspire some of them to pursue journalism.
By William Inganga
