The billion dollar man

It was Friday and Valentine’s Day too so there was an air of light heartedness at the office. We were joking about the fallacy that the day represents and how maybe we were just sour-graping because we didn’t know how to express love and affection the way other people do.

I was flipping through Facebook when I saw it, “RIP Douglas Aaron Musunga”. That right there is when the cheer ended. The rest of the day was taken by growing shock and then grief and then the pain that is inevitably birthed by that unfortunate mix of emotion.

I went down the Facebook rabbit hole of any post on his death. Scrolled through many that kept trickling in by the hour with everyone sharing their shock but none offering answers to the question we all had on our minds, what happened?

Who was he?
That question was only answered the next day at a funeral service at Praise Cathedral in Kigowa.

I arrived as the church staff was still cleaning the floor, they said the service was at 11am, not 10am as I had thought. I sat and waited anyway. The choir came, one of them a tall light skinned woman would occasionally pull out a handkerchief to dry her tears that created two sad lines on her face.

The church slowly filled. A young woman in damaged jeans sat down next to me and promptly asked me who had died.

Radio show host
You are listening to Douglas, ‘the billion dollar man’, that’s how Douglas Musunga always introduced himself when he hosted the drive show on Kampala FM, a Christian radio station located in Bwaise very many years ago.

That’s where I met him. For someone who sat on a plastic chair in a little poorly-lit stuffy room with a microphone and shamefully basic console, Douglas was too excited about life.
Anyone listening on the other side of the radio would think he was speaking and playing all that music from a state-of the-art studio on the upper east side of Manhattan. At least I did and yet, I knew what kind of studio he was broadcasting from because I like many other radio junkies worked there.

I don’t think he got paid much or anything at all seeing us most of us who worked there did it for the love of radio which means we hang in there even when there was no pay cheque at the end of the month.

Above the spot where I sat in the church was a faulty fan. I only noticed this because as the church filled, the temperature rose. Both in heat and grief. The kind of grief that wrapped itself so coyly around you and left you gasping for breath in form of sobs. There were sobs from different corners of the church as people tried to come to terms with the reason as to why we were there.

The sermon, then the endless speeches from the uncountable friends who could all testify to the fact that he had given of himself wholeheartedly. He had consumed each one of them with his goodness and kindness of heart. Then came the speech, the one which would be the climax of the funeral service.

Loving father and husband
Douglas was many things but all those things can not equal his role as a loving father to four and one unborn child and husband to his lovely wife Carol. So to see her walk up that carpeted pulpit with the children in tow and friends following slowly to provide support, was heart-breaking, to say the least. Makes a coward decide not to fall in love, because how do you deal with such heartache? How?

Sudden death
Carol answered what we all wanted to know. How death had snatched a young Christian man with so much to give the world. He had been found on the floor of his bedroom and rushed to hospital but did not live to see his recovery.

Carol told us that there had been complaints of unwellness earlier in the week, a test done that declared that he had a bacterial infection, but that was all. By the time of the service, actual cause of death had not been established. And just like that, his earthly sojourn came to an abrupt end.

Comfort
I know there are many people who can tell more intimate tales about Douglas and the life he lived because they interacted more with him than I ever did. So to those people, to Carol, the children, family and friends, one can only pray for strength and comfort.

Two scriptures come to mind; Psalms 147: 3 which says, ‘He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds’ and Psalm 345:18- ‘The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit’.

The photographer

Photography is art. It is an art that is addictive, spontaneous and impulsive in many ways.
When the photography bug bites, it goes deep, you will try to take a picture from one of the most dangerous locations basically minding less of those looking at your gadget with intentions.

It’s probably because of the fact that photography is addictive that many photographers operate like a community or a family. They basically know each other that when they are out in the field shooting people as they usually say, one will easily ask the other to help with a specific lenses or rig.

And on ordinary days, these photographers will be on social media groups sharing tips to better their photography. On many of such groups, Friday, which also happened to be Valentine’s Day was never an ordinary day.

Douglas Aaron Musunga, a photographer and founder of Daprince Photography had passed on. For many photographer, especially those that had been dealing with Douglas, as they casually called him, on a professional basis, everything was abrupt.

“I was with him last evening,” one was quick to point out on social media.

Douglas was a seasoned photographer that it was never surprising he was known by photographers of different genres, from those into artsy and newsy events to conceptual photographers, he was that guys that people seemed to know regardless.

And of course, they had stories to back up this relationship, some he helped understand their cameras while the other he guided about lighting or software. He was the guy that knew photography was his passion, career and yet that did not stop him from sharing knowledge with all the mushrooming camera owners starting out as photographers.

It wasn’t that shocking that when the news of his death started making rounds online, there was a very big number of younger photographers with stories to share about their time with Douglas.

“You played your part well master. The one guy who always made me smile with his seriousness. My go to guy on anything to do with software and technical things,” photographer Katumba Badru wrote on his wall adding that they spent the previous day together strategising on how they could make photography more lucrative.

The clients too had a story to share, Helen Kibukamusoke for instance said she knew Douglas professionally and working with him was fun and joyous.