When celebrity status ends up in loneliness

In what is considered her last video interview, Afro-jazz musician Achieng’ Abura had a telling description of the rate at which well-wishers’ money was streaming in towards a Sh4 million fundraiser for the medication of her son overseas.

“It is slow,” she told media personality Sheila Mwanyigha. “But I am very grateful to everybody.”

Though she did not reveal any hint of surprise that some contributions sent through mobile money transfer were as low as Sh200, the fact that she mentioned them in the interview was perhaps proof that she was taken aback.

“Why that touched me the most was that it was coming from here,” she said, pointing at her heart.

That a woman who had been a darling of Kenyans in the heyday of Tusker Project Fame, who had sang at national events (remarkably during Kenya’s golden jubilee celebrations in 2013 when she said she was also celebrating her 50th birthday) and made a living out of singing at corporate events, was now agonising at the sluggish pace of the fundraising was a message that having many people who like you does not always translate to many people who can help you.

What’s more, in July she told Business Daily of a time she organised a harambee for her son and less than 10 people showed up.

After the failed harambee, she organised a star-studded show which she hoped would help raise the money. But to her disappointment, the contributions did not amount to much.

“I’ve raised money for so many things and I was hoping that somebody, in turn, says, ‘Okay, let’s support her’,” she lamented.

Achieng’ said the fundraising initiatives had shown who her real friends were.

SELF-DESTRUCTION

“This experience has brought me new friends and it has also taught me that the ones I thought were my friends are not quite my friends. They are those people who stick around you because they like the oomph that comes with your name. So if you drop a little bit, they take off,” she told Business Daily.

Achieng’ died on the evening of October 20 at the Kenyatta National Hospital, leaving her son, Prince, to soldier on with his heart condition and sickle cell anaemia.

After her death, a flurry of contributions started streaming in. The amount had reached Sh3.2 million just five days after her death. Achieng’s allies also organised a “major” fundraiser on Thursday.

So much is going on to help her after her death, but was her criticism of the “friends” before her death justified?

Lifestyle’s conversations with people who have been in the limelight revealed how they had learnt the hard way that most “friends” approach them for the perks that come with fame but disappear the moment fortunes dwindle.

In sports, celebrated cricketer Maurice Odumbe and the mother of former boxing champion Conjestina Achieng’ described how the “friend” bubble burst soon after the athletes were off sports headlines.

In the music industry, artiste manager Yusuf Noah, alias Refigah, disclosed how the notion of having many friends has led to the self-destruction of many promising performers — notably Tanzanian singer Mr Nice that Refigah’s record label Grandpa once had a recording contract with.

Aware of the dangers of getting carried away by fans, seasoned genge artiste Jua Cali shared the one philosophy that has made him stay afloat since his plunge into the music scene in 2000: “The moment someone doesn’t know what you’re going through or which problem you have, there is no way that person can help you.”

In the acting industry, Lucy Wangui — best known as the judge in the Vioja Mahakamani show on KBC Television — criticised the many people in her two-decade-long acting career who had approached her under the guise of friendship while all they wanted to do was use her as a stepping stone to bigger things.

Ms Wangui lamented that the late Mzee Ojwang’ Hatari (Benson Wanjau), the legendary Vitimbi actor who was one of her long-time colleagues, would have led a better life in his sunset years had the “friends” outside fellow TV actors meant good for him.

Kenya’s history is awash with famous individuals who entered a bumpy phase of their lives and suffered so much that the public wondered where their perceived many friends were.

PERCEIVED INFLUENCE

Musician Poxi Presha, for instance, died in solitude in 2005 despite having made headlines for his music and for his fight for musicians’ rights.

Comparing the sectors that produce celebrities, the music industry is perhaps the one most laden with the “living large” narrative.

If the lyrics of some songs are anything to go by, a number of artistes must be living in environments that every Kenyan would desire.

When they are not riding in yellow Lamborghinis while sporting Versace clothes and Gucci rings, they are asking anyone to name their price and they’ll buy without negotiating.

Some will remind you that money is just pieces of paper and that their banks are overflowing with cash. Others will declare themselves presidents because of the millions they have and perceived influence.

At other times, they are bragging about their many admirers of the opposite sex who are dying to be with them.

Such disclosures of flashy lifestyles, coupled with the attention that famous people receive, make many people want to hang around musicians, according to Refigah — the architect of the 'Fimbo Inachapa' 2014 hit.

“When you’re shining, or when people feel they can gain something from you, you will have all the fake people — the biggest number of fake people — hang around you,” said Refigah, who has been in the industry for almost two decades.

“So, you get a lot of fake people. You become very busy with a lot of friends but when things go wrong a bit, out of a thousand you’ll be shocked when not even one person is left,” he said.

Aware that being spendthrift is an inevitable habit after one has been surrounded by “yes” people, Refigah has made it compulsory for artistes signing with Grandpa Records to open joint accounts with his company.

“The contracts we’re doing with artistes have clauses where we are opening a joint account. And the account is not for Grandpa. It’s for the artiste. We now force them,” said Refigah, who is currently managing Cindy Sanyu, Dufla, Pizzo Dizzo, Gin Ideal and Chief Moses.

Refigah did not want to discuss much about Tanzanian singer Mr Nice, famous for the 'Fagilia' hit song, whose fall from grace has been the epitome of how mighty a celebrity’s fall can be.

“For artistes, Mr Nice is a living example,” he said.

Asked to name the one Kenyan artiste he believes has got it right in terms of managing his life both on and off the limelight, Refigah singled out 'Nakupenda Pia' hit maker Wyre.

“It’s been years and years. He knows how to keep himself relevant. He knows how to maintain his fans, the relationship and everything. And you don’t even get to hear him in scandals. He’s very decent and you’ll never hear him blaming anyone for anything,” said Refigah.

Jua Cali, who also identified Wyre as a close friend, said the only people he considers friends in deed are his colleagues at the Calif Records music stable.

“Those people who are here at Calif, those I stay with at the studio, those are the ones who are usually close to me. I am not that close to other people,” he said.

During his stay in the industry, which has seen him produce three albums with the fourth coming out early next year, he has learnt to keep off “yes” people.

INSTANT FAME

“The moment you have people who love you around you, they’ll keep you grounded in a way. Not those ‘yes, yes’ people who can’t tell you when you’re blundering,” he said.

Counselling psychologist Wandia Maina, attached to Intra-Personal Health in Nairobi’s Kilimani, has guided a number of celebrities who have had fame-related depression.

She said the problem with surrounding oneself with so many fake friends is that they lock out those who can help you.

“I look at them and I really wish that they could have a safe ground to go and just be, because it’s very, very taxing. I’ve seen different people – actresses, singers – go through depression just because of that pressure of fame,” Ms Maina told Lifestyle.

“When you talk about actresses and actors, they go and they are portraying a character that is totally unlike them. When people see them, they are seeing that character that they relate to on TV. So, where do I draw the line as a human being?” she asked.

Speaking of acting, Ms Wangui, the “Vioja judge”, advises upcoming actors to focus on their future if they want to avoid the trap posed by instant fame.

“Once you leave that TV screen, even those you used to see coming close to you will not approach you. Apart from that, if you fall ill and they hear that you are raising funds for medication, you won’t see them. Not a single one,” she said.

Lifestyle asked her whether, in her long career, she has had a fan who first saw her on TV then later became friends with her. She replied to the negative.

“The fan who will befriend you must be looking for something from you, like there are those who want to be actors. They will be your friend deeply, the one who doesn’t turn down any request,” she said, adding that many changed allegiance once they got what they wanted.

Ms Wangui quit the Vioja Mahakamani cast last year and signed with Zamaradi Productions, from where she has taken up roles in programmes like Fihi and Keru.

When it comes to friends deserting a person when most in need, the former captain of the national cricket team, Maurice Odumbe, has witnessed it first-hand.

The International Cricket Council (ICC) suspended him from the game for five years in 2004 after he was found to have made inappropriate contact with bookmakers.

The suspension meant a long period out of the limelight for a man who had won many accolades, including being the highest scorer in the ICC league, being the first Kenyan to win the “Man of the Match” in three World Cups among others.

“There were friends that used to be around me all the time but, one by one, I started seeing their backs,” he recalled.

The experience sent him into depression and made him a drug addict.

“It reached a point where I think I hit rock-bottom,” he said.

“And I would ask myself, ‘Maurice, was your success a curse? Were people really happy for your success or were they not happy?’”

When his ban ended in 2009, he returned on-and-off to cricket and is now playing with the Stray Lions club, where he sometimes works as a coach. He has unsuccessfully been demanding a slot in the national team.

Odumbe’s narration of his ordeal at a local TV station last year drew the sympathy of many viewers, though it also brought to the fore the element of people wanting to use well-known names for their own agenda.

FIVE REAL FRIENDS

Many people called and promised to help but that was just about it, he said.

“Some called and promised heaven and earth, which never came through,” he said, particularly referring to one self-proclaimed billionaire.

“The impression he had given was that there would be bucketfuls of money, you know. That never happened,” said Odumbe, currently in the process of registering a sports academy with handball legend Brian Oduor.

Also wondering whether a wide fan base is a guarantee to calmer times during a long-lasting tragedy is Gertrude Adala, the mother of boxing champion Conjestina Achieng’, who is currently receiving medication at a Kisumu hospital.

Ever since Conjestina quit the ring and started battling mental illness, her mother is concerned by the big number of friends who deserted the boxer.

“People used to look for her in droves. You would think she was the president. But she is now forgotten. She was not even mentioned on Mashujaa Day,” Adala told Lifestyle.

“It’s sad, because it appears that when you have money, friends come looking for you. But when the money goes, they all leave you,” she said, referring to the people who used to visit Conjestina at her Nairobi house when she was a boxing sensation.

Like Odumbe, she has had cases of people who make promises then disappear.

“A person can come up, appear like they are helping her, then disappear. Someone may come up and say they want to take my child to hospital in India then goes under. People have done bad things but I leave it to God,” she said.

Winnie Ogolla, a hairdresser who organised a birthday party for Conjestina on the eve of Mashujaa Day, was so moved by the sad tale in May that she decided to travel from Kisumu where she lives to Conjestina’s home in Yala, Siaya County.

Conjestina’s poor mental state and drug addiction shook her, but she was more perturbed by the ex-boxer’s son in Form Four whose fees has not been paid since he was in Form Two.

The hairdresser then mobilised her friends to raise funds to foot a Sh124,000 fees bill that had been accumulating. She is currently registering a bill number to enable M-Pesa donations.

Counselling psychologist James Mbugua, a lecturer at the Africa Nazarene University, has an interesting mantra: “If you have five real friends count yourself lucky.”

“With the celebrity status, especially in Kenya, there is a lot of loneliness. Everyone thinks you’re successful but doesn’t know you’re human,” he told Lifestyle.

Ms Maina, the Kilimani-based psychologist, said a celebrity should seek their friends wisely and consult financial advisers, opining that the sudden influx of cash encourages spendthrift behaviour.

“Even people who have grown up with money, it doesn’t mean that the money was in their pockets. Possibly, it was in their parents’ pockets and then you find that once those parents pass away, they’ve not been shown how to handle money. Even they also go to the same ruin,” she said.