ALDRINE NSUBUGA SNR: I spoke to Isma Olaxess for the first time 24 hrs before he signed out

Of all Isma Olaxess’ images – in their plenty – this is the one that impacted on me the most. It’s how I choose to remember him. For a man so ascerbic in criticism you could build a nuclear bomb out of his mouthful, he had a lovable; almost infectious charm about him. He publicly presented himself as an old man who has nothing left to live for but deep inside, he believed he was a young man who must enjoy his youth. He loved the camera. He lived for it. It’s the mirror that lifted his ego; the album that kept evidence of his boisterous personality, manly attraction and heart throbbing appeal; for the younger ladies.

This rapper-artist-actor image gives him the hollywood celebrity aura that captured the imagination of the younger followers especially the ladies; away from the gang like persona that unfortunately won him many enemies. When he spoke music and entertainment, you listened. Dude was immensely knowledgable. This was his turf. His natural habitat. No wonder those in the entertainment world embraced him as their own. I saw his dance moves and I was blown away. From Sweden, Denmark, Uganda to UAE (Dubai), he was Isma Olaxes. Fun loving, full of life. A free spirit who lived unto himself. This is how he won over neutrals like me.

On video though, in a partially lit room somewhere, Isma changed face and character. The jajja Ichuli, muslim fundamentalist, political activist and ice cold persona came out. He poured venom and brought out his gangster character. He prided himself in being ruthless, unapologetic and vindictive. Here, he addressed his enemies and put the fear of Allah in them. This is the factory where he created his enemy world and drew the red line. You were either for him or against him. He feared no one and respected none. In this room, he was the law. He was government. Just listening to him gave me a chill at times. Yet, I still admired his bravery and single mindedness. Even then, I sensed that he was doing this more out of survival than real purpose. The real man was soft and vulnerable. Likeable, even.

I never met him in person. Had never spoken to him. I was only a follower until Friday 5th May at 1:38 pm last week, the day before he died. I got a call from anonymous and when I picked, a calm voice asked me whether this was SNR and then said ‘nze jajja Ichuli.’ Stunned by the call, I asked ‘why on earth would jajja Ichuli call me. How did you get my number?’ Even in his calmness, he sounded nervous and in a hurry and said; “I have been a fan of yours SNR for a very long time and am calling because I need your help in PR and communication skills. Can I call you next week and we meet? I really need help.” I answered in the affirmative. He quickly thanked me and said “I will call you on Monday am going for an urgent meeting now”. He switched off. My London friend who had taken me out for lunch heard the brief conversation and said “Aldrine you can’t be serious. Ichuli wants you to do what?” As we all know now, I never got his promised call on Monday.

First time to speak to him. Last time to ever hear from him. Never got to meet him in person. So as the nation continues to debate the possibilities sorrounding his death, I can’t stop asking myself why of all people he chose to call me for help in the area of my expertise. The world doesn’t know that Isma knew his shortcomings in communication. He had content, he wanted celebrity. He wanted fame. He just didn’t know how to package and deliver. His style was naive and deep inside him, he wanted to be better. For that, I beg that those who hated him begin to understand him. He wasn’t a bad man. He was only ignorant and he needed help. Sadly nobody knew that he was quietly seeking help.

This is the Isma Olaxess I will choose to remember. A brilliant man who had nothing but found a way to survive with the only thing he had – his head and bravery. He loved the good life but couldn’t afford it. His desperation drew him to take the route that sadly has led to his demise. I won’t judge him. I can’t judge him. I forever will feel indebted to him. I never got to finally give him the only help he admitted he needed to make his life better. I have to admit though, the feeling of knowing that jajja Ichuli was a long time fan of mine through one of possibly the last phone calls he ever made ; just to tell me, less than 24 hours to his death is indescribable. He was already a dead man walking. It’s the first time in my life that I spoke to someone within hours ot their passing. Farewell Isma. You were a sincere man. You acknowledged your weakness; the one that possibly led to your passing into the next world. Nothing you did was personal. A victim of ignorance. And very few knew this side of you. Thank you for that call.I will never delete it.

RIP fan.