Julius ‘Uncle Jay” Nyaisanga (1960- 20th October, 2013)
By Wilson Kaigarula
Posted Monday, October 21 2013 at 08:53
Posted Monday, October 21 2013 at 08:53
In Summary
The diaries of most people are
virtually computer-precise; on doing what, for how long after duty,
returning home, chatting up family members, TV viewing, slipping into
bed and waking up to prepare for a fresh day
Dar es Salaam. Happy-go-lucky: a
three-word expression that, in my view, accurately summarises the
social part of Julius Nyaisanga, one of the top Tanzanian star
broadcasters who succumbed to a long battle with diabetes and high blood
pressure at Mazimbu Hospital in Morogoro yesterday aged 53.
Beyond work schedules in radio and TV newsrooms
and studios, Julius, known fondly by what became the trademark name,
‘Uncle Jay’, was not a strict planner of his daily social diary.
The diaries of most people are virtually
computer-precise; on doing what, for how long after duty, returning
home, chatting up family members, TV viewing, slipping into bed and
waking up to prepare for a fresh day.
Not so with Uncle Jay. One evening around the
mid-1980s, I bumped into Julius at some noisy pub in downtown Dar, my
first encounter with him beyond press conferences, seminars, workshops,
symposia and political commemorative events.
In the midst of exchanging social pleasantries,
‘Uncle Jay’ shouted at a barmaid to whom he had placed an order for a
cold beer. He made a remark that introduced me to his humorous side:
“The beer must be as cold as the water that flows from the Mount
Kilimanjaro’s Kibo Peak, otherwise I won’t pay.”
Those around us burst into laughter, including the
young lady, who was thrilled when she subsequently learnt that, her
‘mischievous’ customer was the Radio Tanzania Dar es Salaam (RTD)
broadcaster to whose enchanting voice she was most endeared, but whom
she hadn’t met and hadn’t imagined she would.
Plus, she didn’t expect that such a ‘famous’
person would patronise such a simple bar, and mingle with ‘commoners’.
Julius remarked that, there was nothing special about being a
broadcaster.
Like her, he said, he was a mere social service
operative: he, via radio waves, and she, by serving an assortment of
city dwellers who sought to cool their throats after a hard-day’s work.
After a few beers, Julius suggested to me and two
other friends, that we relocate to some joint at Mnazi Mmoja, arguing
that, sticking to one place for too long was boring.
We obliged and, it came to pass, that after Mnazi
Mmoja, we rounded off the evening; nay, the night, at Vijana Social Hall
in Kinondoni where a band was performing live.
I returned home close to dawn; the saving grace
being that, as a bachelor boy a la Cliff Richard, I didn’t owe anyone
either an explanation or apologies. Mobile phone technology wasn’t here
yet, the land line system was neither fast nor reliable; so, it was
after I heard Julius presenting a radio programme at mid-evening that I
knew, and was relieved, that he was safe.
I soon conquered bachelorhood and moderated my
social adventurism. In subsequent encounters with Uncle Jay at some
establishments for ‘udirinki’ (as satirist Adam Lusekelo would put it), I
would sneak out to avoid being drowned into Nyaisanga’s endless ‘one
more, harmless beer’ pool.
That social backgrounder reinforces Nyaisanga’s success as a
broadcaster, lately as head of the Morogoro-based Abood Television,
because no matter how professionally competent someone may be, he or she
is bound to be less endearing to listeners and viewers if the person is
not a good mixer.
Incidentally, Lusekelo, whose humour columns,
rib-cracking jokes and fun-filled social life thrilled many, and who
preceded Julius in death (April 1, 2011), paired off well with the
latter in presenting a successful talk show – Malumbano ya Hoja – on ITV
in the early 2000s.
Julius’ forte was music; his wide knowledge on the
local and African regional music scene being near-legendary, his
contemporary being, arguably, only Masoud Masoud.
Julius was also credited as a specialist at
‘formatting’ neckties into triangular shapes that fellow broadcaster
Charles Hilary called ‘sambusa’.
But Julius wasn’t an entirely fun-loving person.
Even in the ‘udirinki’ context, if he were off-duty and happened to be
at some bar in early evening, he would sip beer while leafing through
copies of the ‘Newsweek’ and other knowledge-loaded publications.
I recall that, he was one of the most frequent
visitors to the library of The Guardian Limited, a sister company of
ITV/Radio One, where he immersed himself in mainstream publications.
Fare Thee Well, old boy Julius ‘Uncle Jay’ Nyaisanga.
