From bankruptcy during COVID to massive productions: the crazy transformation of a businessman

When you try to reach Or "Weizman" Nahum before late morning, you usually get the same half-joking response: "How funny that you tried to catch me before 10:00 AM, I'll talk to you after coffee." His morning almost always begins with a sequence of 60 to 70 WhatsApp messages from advertising agency owners, marketing departments of startups, companies from Israel and abroad, and yes… also messages from his mom.

At first glance, it seems he is a man who never rests, one who embodies multiple identities: creative director, owner of an influencer agency, lecturer in marketing communications, former DJ, a "hot" uncle, and an unapologetic opinionated person. But when told he sounds like dozens of different people in one body, he is quick to correct with an insight that defines his path: "I don't think you're talking to 20 people. I think you're talking to one person who knew how to bring his hobbies to a business state."

Nahum's business approach is based on hard work from the bottom up and deep familiarity with all levels in the field. "I always believe in 'if you want to be the owner of a restaurant, be a dishwasher'," he explains the analogy that has accompanied him over the years. "I think I was the dishwasher before I had the restaurant I have today. I was a dishwasher, then I moved up to cook, then I was a waiter, then I was a bartender, until I became the owner of the restaurant I eat from today."

This washing started at age 14, in a story that sounds almost imaginary. He was at a Bar Mitzvah event, looked at the DJ, and when the DJ asked him why he was staring at him, the sentence slipped out: "Oh, I'm a DJ too, I'm just watching to see how you work." The DJ took the opportunity to jump to the bathroom and left the teenager who didn't know what BPM or cue was. "I just watched him for five minutes and imitated what he did in the worst way possible," Nahum laughs. When the DJ returned and asked, "You're not really a DJ, huh?", Or admitted the truth, and he decided to take him under his wing and teach him the basics. From there, a total infatuation with the world of music and hip-hop was born.

The road to the top was not paved with flowers, certainly not for a teenager who grew up in Eilat in a family where everyone is a lawyer, doctor, scientist, or judge. "Suddenly Or arrives, the black sheep of the family, and he is all dedicated to music and hip-hop," he shares. "Many tried to trip me up. If they closed doors on me, I entered through the window, they closed the window, I entered through the chimney, and if I couldn't enter through the chimney, I just broke the house and entered."

Parties in Kibbutz Eilot turned over the years into a massive performance in front of 30,000 people at the "Kiss My Grass" festival in Australia, as he tells about the path: "When I started as a DJ in the early 2000s, I didn't have money to bring PR, I didn't have connections to get into management. I did everything I did alone, by myself. My things caught on, the ideas caught on. And then slowly I reached more and more artists to work with. And they were also excited about my ideas, and knock on wood, they also reached where they reached because of these things. And kudos to them and hats off to them for everything. Whether it was from my advice or my ideas or even a meeting we would sit together to think about ideas and how to reach the right idea to promote yourself."

However, the real lesson in business came from one key figure, the rapper Subliminal. "Everything I know today about business is thanks to Subliminal," Or confesses with appreciation. "He brought me into many rooms, I sat like a fly on the wall and he told everyone, 'He's one of ours.' He taught me a lot. Even when my nose went up and I was arrogant because of it, he always made sure to bring me down to earth and give me that slap that says, 'Or, success is ups and downs'."

He opened the advertising agency parallel to his DJ career, as he tells: "I don't like sleeping that much. I was always doing more and more things. And when I moved from Eilat to the center, I needed a job. For the mornings, because in the evening I was a DJ. And a friend kind of told me 'come, we are looking for employees at our advertising agency'."

The rest of the way in the advertising agency continues like this: "Slowly I learned all the secrets of the advertising agency profession, inside this office. And in time, after nine months, they tell me they are closing the office, it's not working for them anymore, and that everyone is fired."

Or, as expected, was not alarmed and tells the case to his friend Marian, and she tells him, "Or, you know everything and you are a beast at all the things you do, why don't you open your own office?". And the next day he opened an advertising agency, he did social media for businesses, for cultural events, but still his main business was and remained the DJ.

Alongside the rise, life did not spare him hard blows, and his career was rebuilt precisely from the bottom. "I ate shit in commercial quantities," he says openly. "In COVID we lost a lot, a lot of money, there was no work, I didn't have DJing either and I injured my back." Exactly in that complex period, Yarin Yehezkel from the company "Young Media" approached him and suggested he join a campaign to include the drug "Danielza" in the basket of medicines in Israel, a life-saving drug for children suffering from neuroblastoma cancer.

While other advertising agencies were afraid to enter the project out of fear that failure would ruin their career, Or went for it on full volunteering. The campaign succeeded and the drug entered the basket. "We succeeded for a not insignificant number of children who were sick at that time," he recalls with excitement. "I got a call from the aunt of one of the children, she cried to me on the phone 'thank you, you saved our lives.' I started crying with her. This conversation was worth more to me than every shekel I would have earned."

In time he shares, "Another friend of mine from high school named Or Ben Shimon, he was the CEO of the company Comunix, we hadn't seen each other since we finished high school, called me, told me 'Or, what's happening? I want you to come to a meeting, I want to see how I integrate you with us.' I saw your projects, I saw the things you do, let's see what's what." About the meeting he shares, "We brought up memories from high school and everything. It was a super fun meeting. And he understood that I really don't know anything at all. Basic concepts that exist today in high-tech and things like that, I didn't know anything."

Or took him under his wing, "And taught me everything he knows. He even gave me homework that I took home with me, and simply for a year I learned all the secrets of the high-tech worlds." And even there he managed to leave a big mark and be signed on big campaigns. A few months after that, the judicial revolution began and he was fired, even that didn't make him stop.

From there he decided to bring his advertising agency back to life while changing the business model. "I told myself that nothing else interests me, I see that my brain works overtime and that is one of the things that turns me on the most in the world," he explains. The office became a creative company and an influencer agency operating against technology giants and brands. To make the services accessible and lower the reluctance of clients, Nahum implements a strategy of building a Personal Brand for his managers, and they serve as the face of the company. At the same time, the combination of AI tools allows them to produce massive productions at a fraction of the price, "An advertisement that at the time would have cost 400,000 shekels, we did it for close to a tenth of the price, in the area of 40,000 shekels. We give every company creative and economical solutions at the highest level."

Despite his appearance, which might be mistakenly interpreted as a typical Tel Avivian with a beard and tattoos, Nahum prefers to keep distance from the center and lives in Rehovot. "Tel Aviv and I are not friends, we have a love-hate relationship. In Rehovot I have some surprising and amazing quiet. There is nothing I love more in winter than coming home, sitting on the balcony with a duvet, smelling and hearing the rain. This is something I won't get at all in Tel Aviv."

This quiet is especially needed for him in the face of the upheavals of recent years, including the events of October 7th where his friends were murdered and he entered depression for the first time in his life. When asked about his financial tip, Or thinks for a moment and replies: "Believe in yourself, even when others don't believe in you. If you have an idea, run with it! At most you will fail, and the next idea will come. I turned all my hobbies into something economic. I collect comics and Batman dolls and trade them on Amazon, games on PlayStation pay me to play."

But when it comes to the question of what is the best investment he has made, his known opinionated nature makes room for exposed honesty: "I haven't had one like that yet. I am 38 years old and single, sleeping alone. My health is not at its peak and I smoke even though I hate smoking. Maybe when I solve the health issue and the relationship, I will be able to say that I really invested in myself."