I don’t fully recall the specifics of my father’s diplomatic role and its immediate impact on our lives back then, but its influence on who I am today is undeniable. I grew up with stories of chauffeured limousines and travels to exotic European locales, most notably Belgium.

My father was an International Diplomat, a title that carried significant weight wherever we went. It opened doors otherwise inaccessible to ordinary people, granting us an elite social standing that has remained a part of our family dynamics. It is one part of how God aligned Robert and me onto the exact same path to eventually encounter each other on a serendipitous day.

Becoming the partner of one of the world’s greatest and most enduring musicians— the greatest to me, considering his vast musical output, his reach in writing, producing, and creating timeless art—was not an overnight occurrence. It was a destined connection, forged long before we even knew of each other’s existence. It began with my father, who became one of the first diplomats from our region in Belgium. Our social standing and position were elevated almost instantly, propelling us into new circles.

We never returned to Africa to live full-time, instead enjoying the company of dignitaries, politicians, and their families—those who matched our newfound social standing. It became improper to associate with other social circles, and even when we tried, we often found little in common. There was always a hint of jealousy behind a smile, or ulterior motives of profit, or hopes of being elevated through our connections. Apart from our extended family, we moved exclusively among those who complemented our new status.

Then, in my twenties, I became a singer. I was obsessed with music; I ate, breathed, and lived it, though I never cared for the fame. Those within the industry, who mingled with the world’s elite singers, constantly told me how natural my “gift” was. I remember having three singing coaches simultaneously and writing poetry and lyrics from the age of fifteen. Music was everything to me. I even tried to study it full-time at one of Australia’s most respected music colleges back then, a gospel and Christian-leaning institution nestled in a beautiful mountain location in Sydney.

My father, Christopher, wasn’t just a diplomat; he and my mother, Joy, were deeply loved and respected in their community individually. This set me up to have greater expectations for my life and a comfort level with people in different circles.

Despite their standing, fate had a different path for him. He endured false imprisonment (at the hands of Idi Amin), met my mother amidst war, and they were then forced into cohabitation as strangers. With the brave assistance of his brother, Tom, he escaped Idi Amin’s regime, ultimately leading us to safety in Australia as political refugees.

You see, my upbringing was far from the “normal” that people often assume, simply based on my background. There’s a widespread misconception that we all originate from the same place, share identical thoughts, or harbor similar intentions. The ideas of fame and money, for instance, have never held the same allure for me as they do for others. I was accustomed to a certain social environment from a very young age, and I was required to think, dress, and interact with those in positions of power long before I could even properly speak.

I’m told I was advocating for my parents by the age of three. My mother recounts how I “saved her from assassins and military men” who sought to imprison her, preventing an unknown fate. At such a young age, I directly challenged these military men, questioning their morality and ethics! This act pricked their consciences, ultimately saving my mother.
So, I truly see my path as a unique destiny, not something I simply grew into overnight. This was who I was from the very beginning.

Being a singer, in my past life, also naturally made artists, both renowned and emerging, my peers. I never hesitated to speak with them; I saw them as regular human beings. My work with an International Airline and my social circle also introduced me to many celebrities.

But I was never a “fan girl”—I saw these artists as simply human, just like me.

I don’t claim these meetings blossomed into lasting friendships; we were merely ships passing in the night. However, I’d like to believe there was a certain comfort in my presence (because I didn’t fan girl or obsess over them) precisely because I never “fan girled” anyone. I always saw them as my equals.

It never occurred to me that the rest of the world didn’t perceive celebrities as I did, without a distant obsession or desperate desire (not everyone, I know, but many do).

In truth, I detested fame and everything about it. I love music and art, pursuing both with fervent passion, but I have deliberately avoided fame and public attention all of my life.

Despite people’s intrusive curiosity and insistent demands to know exactly how and where I met Robert, I will never disclose all the information. Some of it will remain between Robert and me until our dying day, for it is far too private. Of course, I can share videos and photos from around the time we met, visual stories of where he and I were. But I will never recount our story to those who are privately connected to me.

Even with my own family, I’ve maintained a certain mystique around our relationship. It’s not public property, no matter the attempts to intrude, control, or extract information.

I will take this information to my grave. After all, who truly knows how any celebrity couple actually met, for that matter?

It’s one of the few things Robert and I will get to keep entirely to ourselves, never having to share it with the world. In truth, I don’t even think people would actually believe the truth. What happened was so magical, mystical, and God-orchestrated that it was short of a miracle.

I had initially intended to delve into the overall story of us and how we met, but I now realize it requires many parts. But it’s a narrative I’ve explored in various ways on our YouTube channel over the past five-plus years.

For now, I simply wanted to offer a glimpse into my past and how I arrived at this point.

I just hope that this will at least give some people peace about my true intentions online and sharing our story.

If not, that’s okay too. You can’t please everybody.

J.