A legacy of artistry, pain and the burden of gift
Sharon Mathala | Friday September 5, 2025 12:13
Like many, I first met ATI through his music. His voice reached me before I ever knew him in person. But life would later bring us together in a way I never expected. As a journalist, I am used to observing from a distance. I don’t befriend the people I write about. But with ATI, the distance collapsed, tota o iforcitse mo go nna.
It began with a story I had written, surprisingly unrelated to music or entertainment, that caught his attention. He reached out, and a quick exchange turned into a conversation that lasted over an hour. From then on, I came to know not just ATI the artist, but Atasaone Bryan Molemogi the man himself.
He was thoughtful, intense, and always questioning the world around him. We argued, laughed, and mostly disagreed.
I remember during COVID-19, he stood firm in his belief that the virus was man-made. He spoke with such conviction that even when you disagreed, you would have admired his fearlessness. That was ATI. He never shied away from difficult and uncomfortable conversations.
But he also went deeper.
He often spoke about demons, the ones we all carry quietly. He was unashamed to admit his own; to confess that sometimes they overwhelmed him. That was his truth, spoken without pretence. In that honesty, he connected with us all. He lived dramatically, and his life was punctuated by headlines that sometimes read like fiction. For instance, in 2014, I wrote a story of his shocking kidnapping incident. He had shoved one of his managers inside a car boot and driven off, only to be caught by the police at a roadblock. I also wrote about his heated public split with his manager, missed appearances at events he was booked to perform, love affairs, and his sexuality. Yet beneath the drama lay a humble soul who loved life and loved deeply, often to his own undoing.
For me, he was not just an artist I wrote about. He remembered the small things like my birthday. He never forgot until this year.
When he finally called weeks later, I teased him about forgetting my birthday, and he laughed. That was the last time I heard his voice. After that, we kept missing each other’s calls. Just two weeks ago, I missed his call, and I never returned it. That will stay with me. We had even planned to write his story together.
The victories, the struggles, and the lessons, he wanted it all told in full, because ATI was not afraid of his truth. Perhaps that was his greatest courage.
I would describe him as a mirror as he reflected our struggles, our joys, our flaws, and our resilience. He reminded us that even brokenness can be beautiful, and that even pain can hold purpose.
So, as we say goodbye, let us carry forward his lesson. Let us live fully, love openly, and never shy away from our truths because tomorrow is never promised, and the question that remains is when it is all said and done, what will you be remembered for?
ATI will be remembered for his honesty, his courage, his love, his artistry, and the music that will live forever. Indeed, he has left footprints in my heart. Rest in peace, my brother. You were truly a gift to us all.