Joe McCann on Ashly Robinson

First and foremost, her name was Ashly Robinson, with an “LY”, not Ashlee, “LEE”. It’s important to understand this distinction because many people knew Ashlee Jenae, but the woman I knew was Ashly Robinson. Ashlee Jenae was a persona she created that evolved over time. Ashly Robinson was nothing like Ashlee Jenae.

Ashly was my best friend and soulmate. Ashly was wise beyond her years, goofy at times and funny, intelligent, extremely creative and clever, classy and elegant, sweet, and a true hustler who made something out of nothing, a quality we both shared and bonded over.

Ashly provided a love to me like no one ever had and we were inseparable, together nearly 98% of every day we dated. We truly only wanted to be with each other all the time.

In the weeks and days leading up to her passing, Ashly began to open up to me, in explicit detail, about her past, namely her traumatic childhood as well as some of the abusive and dysfunctional relationships she had with prior boyfriends. What I’ve learned since her passing only further confirms the struggles she faced. It’s important to understand the deeply rooted pain and trauma she carried with her as Ashly Robinson, not Ashlee Jenae.

In September of 2024, I was speaking at a number of conferences in Singapore, putting on a cultural music event sponsored by my company, Asymmetric, as well as attending the launch party for an online casino deal that I secured for Iggy Azalea. Iggy’s event was a rodeo themed party where she flew in ~50 models from the U.S. to work the launch party. Ashly was a talent coordinator providing half of the models for the event and at the last minute, was also asked to work it herself, so she did.

The night prior to the casino launch party, I held my Asymmetric party, and the first time I met Ashly was when I was behind the DJ booth at my event. She tapped me on the shoulder and said to me “Iggy asked if you could change the music.” My response was a simple “No”.

I saw Ashly briefly at the casino launch party but the following day I DM’d her on Twitter/X as she was tweeting about the event. We started chatting and I told her I was moving to Miami in two weeks. She informed me that she lived there. On November 2, 2024, we went on our first date and were inseparable from then on.

She was perfect. Almost too perfect. I fell in love with her on our first date and she did with me as well. In fact, in a text that Ashly later shared with me, halfway through our dinner on our first date her best friend checked in on her, and Ashly’s response was “We’re getting married.”

For our first date, Ashly was two hours late. She texted me asking if I wanted to reschedule and I just told her “no, I’ll wait.” When she approached the bar and I felt her hand tapping me on the shoulder it was like electricity shot through my body; the feeling was beyond description.

On that date, we learned that we shared so many interests that we both considered rare, so much so that I actually captured them in an Apple Note because it was simply uncanny. Ashly mentioned the same thing to her best friend in another text that Ashly later shared with me:

Ashly had an incredibly gentle and sweet spirit, she had a loving presence that was infectious. All of my friends and family who ever met her all felt it.

She also had her own thing going on and was a fellow entrepreneur like me, which was extremely attractive. I respected her hustle and she respected mine.

She was also adaptable and comfortable in any environment, much like me, another characteristic we shared. Whether we were watching Netflix for hours on end on the couch (her absolute favorite thing to do) or attending a business dinner she fit perfectly, and felt comfortable in her own skin and on my arm. And she wasn’t afraid to act silly with me in public either. We had a running game of who could embarrass the other more and neither of us ever won.

Ashly was just, in a word, “cool”. She had exceptional taste, but was also infinitely curious about new experiences and ideas.

And of course, she was out of this world gorgeous. The photos and videos people see of her online exemplify her beauty, but in person, it’s impossible to put into words how stunning she was.

Actually, this is only true in a superficial sense. See, I proposed to Ashlee Jenae on April 3rd. I proposed to Ashly Robinson before we left for Africa.

And that’s the point.

We had a private life.

Ashlee Jenae was the public persona.

Ashly Robinson was the private person.

On March 27, 2026, Ashly and I attended an NBA game – the Dallas Mavericks versus the Portland Trailblazers. After the game, we went out to eat and then to a bar owned by one of our friends, where it was “Drake night.” On the way home, Ashly was being her typical self, blasting The Deftones at full volume in my car, but I turned down the music and asked her “do you wanna try the ring on?” Ashly knew I had bought a ring but didn’t know when I was going to propose to her. Her initial response was “No….” but within seconds with a giant grin on her face, she said “ok YES, yes I do!”.

When we got home, I went into our walk-in closet and she was in the master bathroom that is connected to the closet, only separated by a door, which I left partially open. She was taking off her makeup and just chatting away about our night and then she opened the door and I was holding the ring. She immediately burst into tears and kept saying over and over again “it’s perfect! It’s perfect!”

I was able to catch a few pics of this candid moment between us because it was for us and only us.

The next day, Ashly took to ChatGPT (as she did every day with regard to almost all aspects of her life) to help her analyze the most optimal ways of posting the happy news for Ashlee Jenae’s Instagram account. In addition to her personal use, Ashly extensively used ChatGPT for every single post, reel, and story she posted on Instagram with conversations going on for hours sometimes. Out of respect for Ashly, the specific content of her ChatGPT question and answer sessions will remain confidential.

Ashly never took the ring off from that moment on…

…until it was time for Ashlee Jenae to receive a proposal.

I’m an intensely private person, but I know how much Ashly wanted to have that moment on social media and I wanted her to have that moment. I was always supportive of her influencer career, through which she made a living but also spread her unique brand of altruism (Ashly declined countless lucrative promos and ambassadorships but had recently started to reach out to local businesses she wanted to support that shared her values).

Ashly informed me that on social media, the proposal is a huge deal for women and of course, Ashly was masterful at tuning the algorithm to make posts go viral. She had the idea of the proposal happening with the lion, but with the lion lying down in front of us. I changed the plan she had at the last minute, which is why she was genuinely surprised in the video. I messaged our host at Serval Wildlife to confirm:

And that is how Ashlee Jenae–not Ashly Robinson–received a proposal from me.

Once again, Ashly went on to use ChatGPT to hyper-optimize her post about the proposal.

The post went crazy viral, as she expected.

To understand what happened in those final days, it’s important to understand what happened a few weeks prior to us leaving for Tanzania, because Ashly’s behavior at the Zuri Zanzibar Resort was entirely consistent with her behavior a few weeks prior in Bend, Oregon while we were on a snowboarding trip.

Ashly and I planned on having a family together. Ashly desperately wanted a baby girl; she had her name picked out and everything. She queried ChatGPT on several occasions over many months about what our baby would look like based on our pictures, the chances for my blue eye color versus her eye color, the best time of the year to get pregnant, and so on. She told me she wanted a daughter specifically so she could love and care for her the way she always wanted to be loved and cared for as a child.

However, in January 2026, Ashly learned from her doctor that there was a possibility she would not be able to carry a child.

She was devastated.

That night she broke down crying. I consoled her, held her, and told her everything was going to be okay and that we’re still going to have a baby.

When we arrived in Bend on March 12, 2026 for our snowboarding trip, her behavior dramatically changed. Ashly was completely unrecognizable in her actions and words. A different person. She was visibly upset. She was screaming and yelling about things that would typically not merit even a short discussion and threatening to end our relationship.

While I was in Zanzibar after Ashly passed, I learned from authorities in Zanzibar that Ashly had engaged in a lengthy question and answer session with ChatGPT about taking significant amounts of Valium as well as how much Valium it would take to kill her. In his press conference on June 4, 2026, Zuberi Chembera, Deputy Director of Investigations for the Zanzibar Police Force, confirmed the existence of this ChatGPT session.

On March 13, our first day of snowboarding, she hit her head on a rock and sustained a concussion (even though she was wearing a helmet). However, she refused to go to the doctor. For days after, Ashly complained that she was dizzy, and was forgetting things she said only moments prior. Nonetheless, she insisted on riding multiple days on the mountain after this occurred.

After I pleaded with her for days, she went to the doctor when we got back to Portland. The doctor confirmed her concussion and prescribed her medication.

While in Bend, I was on the receiving end of multiple public outbursts by Ashly, a behavior that I had not previously seen from her. My response to each outburst was to physically distance myself to ensure that I was removed from the situation.

At one point, Ashly tried opening the door of my car at a high speed on a rural highway on the way back from the mountain. I pulled over when it was safe to do so as she was having a panic attack, another behavior I had never seen before. She got out and then began walking back to the house on foot. I pleaded with her to get back in as it wasn’t safe for her. She walked a mile and then got in an Uber.

When I knew she was home safe, I arrived back at the house and saw that Ashly was standing barefoot in the driveway. She began to take all of the snowboarding equipment out of my car and threw it all over the front yard and driveways. She then threw a snowboarding helmet towards me at point blank range, striking me directly in the face. I did not retaliate. I picked up all the equipment and placed it back in my car and asked her to come inside.

From there, she went outside and began to walk into traffic while threatening to commit suicide by being run over. I pleaded with her to get out of the road and got her to come back inside, after which I left the house to create physical distance between us so the situation could stabilize. She called and texted her mother, Yolanda Endres.

Ashly also texted me to tell me our relationship was over and she was moving back to the East Coast.

However, I got on the phone with her and she asked me to come back to the house so I did. When I entered the house, she began to cry and admitted to me that she was terrified she was going to not be able to have a baby with me, and that I would leave her. I held her and told her it was going to be fine, that I would never leave her, that I bought a ring so we could get married, and that I was committed to her.

The next day, it was like a switch flipped in her. She was completely back to normal. She had me pull over on the side of the road to joyously run through a green field.

In Zanzibar, Ashly’s erratic behavior returned on April 6, right when we arrived at the Zuri Zanzibar Resort, one day after her birthday. The first of several public outbursts happened at lunch on April 6 with a server present. In the two days that followed, we engaged in a series of heated discussions in our villa as well as in public areas, instigated by these outbursts.

Ashly’s behavior had grown even more bizarre than the behaviors I observed in Bend. She was chain smoking cigarettes (Ashly didn’t smoke). She woke up and drank a bottle of white wine immediately (I’d never seen her drink in the morning except maybe a glass of wine or mimosa at brunch). This was not Ashly at all. This was someone else.

Throughout our time in Zanzibar, Ashly demanded that I take the engagement ring back from her and insisted that I call the engagement off. I declined every time and told her I wanted her to be my wife. She took the ring off and placed it in the safe in the villa.

Eventually, I was able to calm her down enough so that we could at least go and enjoy the beach together. In what proved to be a pleasant escape from reality, Ashly wanted to shoot some content of her riding horses on the beach, so we got ready and headed down there.

When we arrived, she forgot the ring and she wanted it in her photos. She went back to the villa, but forgot the code to the safe. She came back frustrated, but I told her I’d go get it and to not worry. When I arrived in the room I sent her a pic of the safe showing the time delay remaining so she’d have a sense when I’d return, and to calm her.

The following is one of the last photos of me and Ashly together. She requested that a bystander take some pics of us and in true Ashly fashion, she was directing the production while displaying the ring.

Shortly thereafter, Ashly and I were chilling out on lounge chairs in the sand. When it was time to go, I got up to walk to the bar to pay our bill. At this moment, Ashly began another outburst that drew the attention of nearby security personnel. I told her I was simply going to pay the bill and pleaded with her to remain calm. She decided she would go back to the villa, and I told her I would stay behind to watch the sunset. When Ashly left, I decided to contact the Zuri Zanzibar guest services via WhatsApp to inquire about a separate villa.

I then walked back to the villa and after taking a shower, Ashly initiated another heated discussion. It was at this moment that I finally told her, “OK give me the ring back. The engagement is off.” She reacted by yelling, smashing lamps and glassware in the room, and telling me among other things: “I hope I choke and die in here tonight.”

During this time someone from the neighboring Villa 24 contacted the front desk, letting them know that a couple in Villa 25 was having a disagreement. Within minutes, four security guards showed up at our Villa 25.

Suddenly, Ashly became entirely calm, and explained to the security that “there was no issue” and that “everything was fine,” even going on to say to them “as the woman in this situation I would let you know if there was something wrong.”

At this point, the head of security asked if we needed some time or separate villas. I volunteered to get a separate villa and explained to them that I was already in touch with Guest Services over WhatsApp.

My bags already packed, I left to head to the reception desk, handed off my key for Villa 25, and received my key for Villa 65.

Once safely apart from Ashly at the reception desk, Ashly’s mother, Yolanda Endres, tried calling me and texted me that Ashly wouldn’t answer her phone calls, and that Ashly was “texting terrible things.”

I then headed down with Zuri staff to my new Villa, #65. I then started to receive incredibly disturbing texts from Ashly stating her clear intent to take her life. I tried calling her multiple times but she wouldn’t pick up. I begged and pleaded with her but to no avail.

I also called her villa directly three times by pressing “1” plus the Villa number “25”. She never answered. Her last communication to me was simply the word “Stop”.

My answer to the previous question sets the record straight on what really happened.

While, as a parent myself, I empathize with her parents in the deepest possible way, I find these comments utterly confusing. The devastating reality was that Ashly, who was a truly wonderful but tortured soul, did suffer from visibly evident and significant mental health problems. Moreover, to anyone who insists on believing, against all reality, that Ashly’s death was “suspicious”, I would suggest that they watch Deputy Director Chembera’s June 4 press conference, in which he left zero doubt that Ashly’s death was, tragically, by suicide:

Any insinuation that I had anything to do with Ashly’s death is categorically false, defamatory, and malicious.

I would never harm any woman in any way, and that includes Ashly. Absolutely not, NEVER, and in fact, her family knew this, as demonstrated by a text message between Ashly and her Mom in 2025, when Ashly accidentally lost my credit card.

I did, however, tolerate Ashly becoming physical with me on more than one occasion, including in Bend. She also confided with me that she had been in multiple abusive relationships with other men.

While Ashly’s family is entitled to their feelings, the reality is that I was entirely preoccupied with trying to save Ashly. During this whole period, I did everything in my power to assist the doctors and nurses frantically working to keep Ashly alive. I even created a shared Google Doc that I used to constantly update Ashly’s family with every bit of information as I was coordinating with multiple doctors, hotel staff, and even a Medi-Evac service provider out of Nairobi. I know that they received this Google doc that had all the information in it because they shared it with other members of their family and friends who requested access to it.

I regret that I couldn’t alleviate Ashly’s deep mental anguish and pain sooner. She shared numerous deeply disturbing things with me in the weeks and days leading up to her death, and she spiraled quickly during that time. I wish I could have brought her over from the darkness into the light.

Although we had been in communication during Ashly’s final hours, Ashly’s mother never reached out to me after April 9th and her father never reached out after April 10th. I decided to respect their desire for distance. Moreover, my priorities were to get Ashly’s remains home and to cooperate with the authorities to assist them in their investigation. There was simply never any form of communication from her parents or any other members of her family with me with respect to the funeral.

Absolutely.

Yes, since I was assisting the authorities in Zanzibar with their investigation I was unable to attend her funeral; I was still in Zanzibar. So on that day I wrote a eulogy and posted it at 11:11 PM East Africa Time (EAT).

Ashly wanted to get married on 11/11/2027 and she always would tell me “it’s 11:11” when it would show up on the clock. Later this summer I plan to do a very private celebration of life event in her honor.

I’ve also begun the process of setting up a 501(c)(3) foundation to properly honor Ashly’s legacy and to aid others who are grappling with mental health struggles. I will be making a more detailed announcement about the 501(c)(3) at an appropriate time in the near future.

As a father myself, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to lose a child. I hope that you are able to find a small measure of peace thinking about the incredible impact that Ashly made during her time on Earth and the impact that her legacy will have for years to come. Ashly was my soulmate and I will never allow her to be forgotten.

In a word: horrifying.

The day after Ashly passed, I had no time to grieve, as I immediately began cooperating with the authorities in their investigation. I could have flown home on my own volition on April 10, but I skipped the flight to stay back and ensure that Ashly got home first.

The legacy media and social media trolls began to run with a patently false narrative of “suspicion” which exacerbated the tragic situation. I began to receive a barrage of racially fueled death threats (I still do today); moreover, my family’s safety was at risk as well as the safety of family members, friends, employees. It’s been incredibly painful to lose Ashly. The hate, vitriol and lies told by so many in service of the lie that I somehow had anything to do with her death have made the grief that much more difficult to comprehend.

Without question. The false narrative that some members of the legacy media and online trolls decided to run with was about race, wealth and power, not the mental health issues that afflicted Ashly. She never would have wanted this. Although Ashly was proud of her heritage, she never defined herself or others by race. She looked at everyone on their individual merits.

Of course. As mentioned, the false story from the media was about race, wealth and power, but I also became a Girardian scapegoat.

I’m referring to the writings of the contemporary philosopher, the late René Girard, and his view on scapegoating aligns perfectly with my experience.

When a group of people are suffering from pain, anger and frustration from an acute event (Ashly’s suicide) they find an object to “sacrifice” (me) and only when that object or person is expelled or eliminated do they have the strength to move on from the source of the pain. There are myriad instances of Girard’s scapegoating concept across history. I’m just one of many recent examples. The tragedy of this circumstance is that the focus should be on remembering Ashly’s greatness and preserving Ashly’s legacy.

Given the suspicions that were raised, it was of the utmost importance to have an investigation into Ashly’s tragic death that was comprehensive, forensic, and professional. I’m extremely grateful for the dedication and effort put in by the litany of agencies and individuals involved, including: Deputy Director Chembera; the entire Tanzania Police Force; the Director of Public Prosecutions; the Zanzibar Commission; the Government Chief Chemist's Laboratory; the Police Cyber Forensic Laboratory; the medical and autopsy staff at North Valley Hospital, Global (Ampola) Hospital, and LUMUMBA Hospital; and last, but not least, the entire outstanding team in the U.S. State Department, both U.S. and Tanzania-based.

Obviously, I already knew the truth and have been grieving the entire time. When the official findings were announced, I felt a deep sense of renewed pain, but also purpose. Ashly’s story needs to be told so we can honor and cherish what she brought to this world. Her death will not be in vain and her legacy will be preserved.

It’s been absolutely devastating and incomprehensible. None of it feels real. Ashly’s death has been a nightmare of nightmares. Everything in my life today reminds me of her and her absence is a constant reminder of the tragedy that has taken place.

Everything. Ashly had such an outsized impact on my life that there isn’t a specific thing that I miss about her – I miss it all.

I don’t want the world to remember Ashlee Jenae. I want the world to remember Ashly Robinson, my soulmate and best friend. I want people to understand her incredible story of how she navigated life, her creativity, her intelligence, her gifts and ultimately, her love for the very select people she let into her life.

The ending of her story is an incomprehensible tragedy, but the chapters of her life that preceded need to be shared and it’s my mission to do just that.