The Ugandan music industry continues to feel the void left by Moses Nakintije Ssekibogo, better known as Mowzey Radio, whose death in 2018 cut short one of the most dynamic partnerships the country had ever witnessed.
As one half of the legendary duo Radio & Weasel, his absence has not only transformed Uganda’s soundscape but has also cast a long shadow over his surviving partner, Douglas Mayanja — Weasel Manizo.
Six years on, Weasel’s journey tells a complex story of grief, survival, and the brutal realities of life after stardom.
The Goodlyfe legacy
At their peak, Radio & Weasel were synonymous with innovation in Ugandan music. Their outfit, the Goodlyfe Crew, was more than a band, it was a cultural movement. Known for fusing R&B smoothness with ragga grit, reggae warmth with dancehall fire, the duo redefined what East African music could sound like.
Radio’s hauntingly soulful voice carried tracks like Nakudata and Bread and Butter, while Weasel’s raspy energy added texture and street credibility. Together, they swept continental awards, topped charts, and influenced a new generation of Afrobeat artists from Kampala to Lagos.
“Radio was the brains of Goodlyfe — his pen, his melodies, his vision were unmatched. Weasel brought the fire and the stage presence,” recalls music critic Brian Mulondo. “Alone, each was talented. Together, they were magic.”
That magic came to a brutal halt in February 2018, when Radio died from injuries sustained in a bar fight in Entebbe. His death not only robbed Uganda of a star but also fractured the delicate balance that had powered Goodlyfe.
Who was Mowzey Radio?
Moses Nakintije Ssekibogo (January 25, 1985– February 1, 2018), also known as Mowzey Radio, was a Ugandan musician. He was one of the main performers of the Ugandan music group Goodlyfe Crew together with Jose Chameleone’s brother Weasel Manizo (real name Douglas Sseguya Mayanja).
Born and raised in Jinja District of Busoga Sub region, Moses Radio attended Kibuye Primary school in Makindye and later, Holy Cross Lake View Jinja for his O’level and later Kiira College Butiki for A’level before joining Makerere University where he graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Community Sociology in 2005.
Radio released his first solo song, “Tujja Kuba Wamu” in 2004 while at Makerere University where he completed a degree in psychology, before joining the Leone Island Music EmpireHe started as a backup singer along with Weasel behind Jose Chameleone.
He had first success in the year 2005 after he had released a reggae love song called “Jennifer”, the official stage video for that song was filmed by Ugandan music promoter DJ Erycom.
Radio and Weasel had many hits, including: “Ability”, “Akapapula”, “Bread and Butter”, “Hellenah” ft David Lutalo, “Juice Juicy”, “Lwaki Onnumya”, “Magnetic”, “Mr DJ”, “Mukama Talya Mandazi”, “Ngenda Maaso”, “Nyambula”, “Nyumbani”, “Obudde”, “Potential”, “Sitaani”, “Zuena”, and “(Tukikole) Neera”, which played incessantly on most radio and TV stations in Africa in 2014.
Weasel alone: Fame without balance
For Weasel, the years since have been marked by a struggle to redefine himself as a solo act. While he has released singles and collaborations, the reception has been lukewarm compared to the hysteria that once greeted Goodlyfe’s releases.
Industry analysts point to the loss of creative chemistry as a major factor. “Radio and Weasel balanced each other out. Without Radio’s songwriting brilliance, Weasel has found it hard to carry the same depth,” explains a veteran Ugandan singer who preferred anonymity due to reprisal.
The challenge has been amplified by the changing face of Ugandan music. A new wave of Gen Z artists, heavily influenced by Nigerian Afrobeats and Amapiano from South Africa, has shifted the industry’s center of gravity. Weasel’s style, once revolutionary, now risks being seen as outdated.
A personal life in crisis
Beyond the studio, Weasel’s personal life has spiraled into a string of public controversies.
Most recently, he was hospitalized following a confrontation with his partner, Sandra Teta, who allegedly ran him over with a car — a case that sparked heated debates about domestic violence and the pressures of fame.
Earlier scandals have included reports of physical altercations, substance abuse, and erratic public appearances.
For fans who once idolized the charismatic singer, these incidents have been heartbreaking to witness.
Local musician Douglas Mayanja, widely known as Weasel, was recently hospitalized at Nsambya Hospital following an alleged domestic altercation with his wife, Sandra Tete.
Social media has become a stage for open debates: Should Weasel be offered help, empathy, and rehabilitation, or has he squandered the goodwill of the public?
“The same people who cheered him at concerts are now gossiping about his downfall,” says cultural commentator Eddie Ssendi. “It raises a bigger question: How do we as a society support artists when they fall apart after success?”
The broader debate: Life after stardom
Weasel’s story has also opened up wider conversations about the fragility of Uganda’s creative industry. With little structured support for artists battling grief, addiction, or financial mismanagement, many stars struggle to cope when fame fades.
The contrast with Radio’s legacy is striking. While Radio is remembered as a musical genius whose lyrics continue to inspire — his voice immortalized on countless hits — Weasel has become a cautionary tale about the personal costs of fame.
Goodlyfe Crew singer Douglas Mayanja, popularly known as Weasel.
Some argue that the industry owes him a safety net. Others insist he must take responsibility for his actions.
Either way, his decline underscores the vulnerabilities faced by many African artists who operate in an industry that celebrates their rise but rarely cushions their fall.
The music industry’s unanswered questions
Six years after Mowzey Radio’s death, Uganda is still grappling with the Goodlyfe paradox: a duo that built an empire of sound, only to leave one partner stranded in its ruins.
For some fans, Weasel’s redemption is still possible. They point to his stage charisma and hope that, with the right guidance, he could reinvent himself for a new era.
For others, his scandals overshadow the music — and tarnish the memory of Goodlyfe’s glory years.
In the end, the saga of Weasel and Radio is not just about two men. It is about an industry struggling with memory, transition, and the unfinished business of stardom.
As debates rage on, one truth remains: Ugandan music has never been the same since Mowzey Radio’s voice fell silent.
