The news of Rajiv Ruparelia’s sudden and tragic passing on May 3, 2025, has left the nation in shock and deep mourning. He was not just a businessman or the heir to one of Uganda’s most influential families—he was a generous spirit, a mentor, and a man who believed in empowering others through genuine connection and shared purpose.
My own journey with the Ruparelia name began in the most distant of ways: reading newspapers in the library of my high school, where the names Sudhir and Rajiv Ruparelia often graced the headlines. Back then, they felt like distant giants in Uganda’s economic landscape—figures we read about but never imagined encountering.
Years later, as a journalist at Red Pepper in Namanve, I found myself ‘envying’ colleagues in the newsroom known as “friends of the Ruparelias.” These were the ones who’d occasionally be invited to events hosted by the family in Munyonyo. Even when I attended, I would only admire Rajiv and his father from afar. Yet for me, seeing in person the very people whose names I once studied in print was fulfilling in itself.
When I left Red Pepper to start TrumpetNews, the journey of entrepreneurship was uncertain. But I had always heard whispers that Rajiv and his father were known for supporting budding entrepreneurs and online media. This was at a time when online journalism was wrongly dismissed as fake news and extortion-driven. Still, Rajiv and Sudhir stood by what was right.
It was during the turbulent period of the Crane Bank saga, when the Bank of Uganda controversially took over and sold the bank to DFCU, that I saw the true grit of the Ruparelias. As mainstream media amplified a narrative painting Sudhir as a failed banker, father and son sought justice—not just in court, but in the court of public opinion. They needed the truth to be told, and it was the online media, including TrumpetNews, that stood firm and factual.
Together, we helped change the perception of online journalism in Uganda. From being seen as fake news peddlers to being respected as credible, ethical, and professional. The backlash was heavy—CID summons, threats, reports branding us as threats to the economy. But Rajiv never backed down. He believed in truth, in justice, and in the power of new media to shape a better Uganda.
He was not a user—he was a builder of relationships. Long after the Supreme Court victory affirmed their position, Rajiv remained in touch. He constantly shared ideas—about growing online businesses, strengthening national peace, and using digital platforms for development. I remember him once saying, “If social media can bring down regimes, why can’t we use it to grow the economy instead?” That was his mindset—always forward-thinking.
Rajiv supported journalists quietly—paying hospital bills, offering scholarships, listening to proposals. Recently, when I told him I was trying to enter the entertainment industry, he immediately suggested teaming up to host a major event at Munyonyo. He asked me to prepare a proposal—always willing to collaborate, always eager to uplift.
He wasn’t just accessible—he was present. He responded to WhatsApp messages promptly, no matter how busy he was. He even introduced me to the broadcast list feature—“You can send a message to 800 people and each gets it individually,” he told me with a smile.
The day we lost Rajiv, journalists—especially from the online community—camped at his Kololo residence in disbelief and mourning. He had become more than a businessman to us. He was one of us.
To his beloved father Dr. Sudhir Ruparelia, to his wife Naiya, and to the entire family: we mourn with you. Rajiv was a rare soul. Uganda has lost a patriot, a visionary, and a friend of the people.
May his legacy continue to inspire us to build, to speak truth, and to serve.
Om Shanti.
