A Buzzard at the Graveside, The Last Dance, and the Next Episode
Finding the Courage to Leave the Stage. Same Forest. Different Monkeys.
How my week began.
Trying to decompress after last Sunday’s article, I was certain I would make it to my pal’s funeral on Monday.
Then I read the advisory.
Influenza (flu) is a viral respiratory infection (that spreads easily through droplets and contact). Most affected individuals recover well with supportive care.
I thought to myself what a contradictory statement.
It talks about droplets, close contact and contaminated surfaces.
Yet most people recover well with supportive care.
How do I get supportive care without touching?
Anyway, oblivious to the warning I called a buddy who was going to the funeral. Given the floods in the country, he had a Noah.
Quite apt.
Destination. Idaho, Nyeri County.
As I opened the door to the dark roomy interior I saw several bloodshot eyes, probably straight from the “kesha” (night vigil) held at the “Cathedral” ((Google Maps calls it 213 after the old Long Beach California area code)).
But I digress.
As I stepped into the Ark my chest exploded.
I coughed like an exhausted borehole, spraying the droplets through the car’s hold.
Immediately the grumbling began.
“How can you?”
A voice shouted from the back.
“Corona!”
“You don’t even have a mask.”
And suddenly the Ark was no longer two by two.
I was politely but firmly removed from the voyage.
Which is how I ended up watching my friend’s final journey the way many of us now attend life’s moments when we cannot physically be present — through WhatsApp messages and the occasional YouTube clip.
And that is where I first saw the buzzard.
Perched quietly in a nearby tree at the graveside.
Watching.
In many African traditions, birds at burials are messengers marking transition.
Not omens of death,
but witnesses to change,
signifying one generation stepping away for another
The buzzard seemed unbothered by the ceremony.
It simply watched.
And as the messages continued arriving on my phone, my mind wandered somewhere else entirely.
Sport.
Because if there is any theatre where endings are understood with brutal clarity, it is sport.
The Last Dance
Football fans around the world recently received news that felt almost impossible to imagine.
Germany would end its seventy-year partnership with Adidas after the FIFA World Cup 2026.
For generations the German national team and Adidas felt inseparable.
The three stripes were stitched into some of football’s greatest moments
(The Miracle of Bern in 1954, Beckenbauer lifting the trophy in 1974, the reunified Germany conquering the world in 1990, and Rio in 2014).
Players came and went. Coaches retired. Fans grew older.
But Adidas remained.
Until now.
Germany will walk onto the pitch in 2027 wearing Nike.
Not betrayal. Just the end of a remarkable partnership.
Sport has a name for moments like this.
The Last Dance.
Chicago of yore understood that phrase better than anyone.
By 1998, everyone inside the Bulls organisation knew the dynasty was ending (Jordan, Pippen and Phil Jackson would not remain together).
And yet something strange happens when great teams realise the curtain is about to fall.
They produce one last masterpiece.
Jordan’s final shot in Utah sealed another championship.
Years later Kobe Bryant offered a similar farewell — sixty points in what was meant to be a ceremonial final game.
A reminder that legends rarely whisper their exit.
They take a bow
.Kenyan rugby has its own rhythm.
Edward “The Mille” Rombo stepped his way onto the world stage wearing a Kenya Watembezi jersey.
Years later Collins Injera rewrote the record books, becoming the all-time leading try scorer in the World Rugby Sevens Series (with 279 tries).
Collo stopped sprinting and started walking.
Patrick Odongo inherited the Jets.
Different generation.
Same jersey.
No one owns the shirt forever.
You wear it for a while.
Then you pass it backward.
Same Forest. Different Monkeys.
Management Transition (This is a rugby story)
Dave Rennie Appointed as New Zealand “All Blacks” Head Coach
The same rule applies to leadership.
Dave Rennie knows something about moments when the coach’s notepad moves to another hand. Rennie built a formidable reputation in Super Rugby, coaching the Chiefs to back-to-back titles in 2012 and 2013 (and later leading Glasgow Warriors and the Australian Wallabies).
Which gives context to Scott “Razor” Robertson.(Wembe for the Aoteroans)
Before the All Blacks, Robertson turned the Canterbury Crusaders into a dynasty, winning seven consecutive Super Rugby titles between 2017 and 2023.
No “significant” Test wins
Systems evolve. Boards lose patience. New philosophies appear.
Sometimes the transition is graceful. Sometimes it arrives abruptly.
But it always arrives.
One system’s frustration becomes another system’s opportunity.
Razor Robertson performed his last windmill.
Jamie Joseph shapes the next structure.
Leadership, like sport, never truly stops.
It simply changes players.
Morals vs the Deal
Transitions also reveal something uncomfortable about human nature.
Principles sound powerful in speeches.
Mission statements are written with conviction.
But the true test of values arrives when the deal appears.
Money has a remarkable way of reshaping moral clarity.
The AI industry has been living through this exact tension.
In 2025 Anthropic publicly declined a U.S. Department of Defense contract tied to advanced AI systems, citing ethical concerns about deploying frontier models in military environments.
Months later the same contract quietly moved elsewhere.
OpenAI agreed to the deal.
No long blog posts.
No public hand-wringing.
Just a press release and a signature.
The language of safety remained.
The money arrived anyway.
Most of you know the script.
Natasha needs to go to college overseas, Jayden is going to Spain for soccer camp, The mortgage repayments start choking, Our “family” Toyota WingRoad has suddenly become too small, I’ve missed the chama trip to Jo’burg for three years, We can finally take “guka” (grandpa) to India for his double hip replacement,
and “Shosh” (grandma) needs a full-time caregiver.
Principles are strongest until the deal becomes real.
Samba Fight Club
Sometimes the tension explodes completely.
Brazilian football has produced its share of beautiful chaos.
One example came during the 2026 Campeonato Mineiro final between Cruzeiro and Atlético Mineiro, where a mass confrontation erupted (after a controversial challenge).
Players from both benches joined the melee.
The referee issued 23 red cards before restoring order.
The beautiful game occasionally reveals the animal beneath the jersey.
Civilization is a thin layer.
Scratch it hard enough and the villager reappears.
Same Forest. Different Monkeys.
When Politics Enters the Stadium
Sport does not exist in a vacuum. History regularly storms onto the field.
The 1980 Moscow Olympics were boycotted by over 60 countries (led by the United States), and the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics were boycotted by the Soviet Union and 14 Eastern Bloc nations.
South Africa was banned from international sport during the apartheid era.
Russia remains banned from multiple global competitions following the invasion of Ukraine.
Now the War in West Asia is beginning to bend sporting calendars again.
The Bahrain and Saudi Arabian Formula One Grand Prix were cancelled (due to security concerns).
Sport often reflects the world more honestly than we would like.
And through all of it the silent observers remain.
Fans. Commentators.
And sometimes a lone bird in a tree.
Watching.
Rebirth
Yet endings rarely mean emptiness.
The World Economic Forum’s Future of Jobs Report projects a net gain of 78 million jobs globally by 2030 (despite automation eliminating many existing roles).
Old systems fade; new ecosystems emerge.
Open TikTok on any evening in Nairobi and you will see young entrepreneurs selling clothes, cosmetics and gadgets live to thousands of viewers.
(Across Africa, TikTok reports more than 150 million monthly users, with live commerce becoming one of the fastest-growing micro-entrepreneur ecosystems.)
No expensive shop space. No traditional career ladder.
Just creativity and connection.
Even World football reveals the pattern.
For nearly two decades, football revolved around Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo.
But the clock never pauses. Now another name rises.
Kylian Mbappé.
And behind him a new generation.
Lamine Yamal
Jude Bellingham
Estêvão Willian
Florian Wirtz
Nico Paz
The Next Episode.
The Whisper of Legacy
Some departures are not really departures.
Arsène Wenger spent over two decades shaping Arsenal.
The peak was the 2003-04 season: Thirty-eight matches (twenty-six wins, twelve draws, zero defeats)
The Invincibles.
Wenger stepped aside, yet his presence is still felt.
I can only imagine him on Mikel Arteta’s shoulder,
whispering calm advice:
Kaza Bro.
Hold your nerve.
Eight (8) games: five home, three away.
That’s how legacy works:
The people who built the home leave,
but their fingerprints remain.
The Warm Down
The flu kept me from Idaho (Ihururu), so I sat at my desk, watching endings on YouTube (Jordan’s final shot and Kobe’s farewell).
Meanwhile, WhatsApp buzzed with new businesses, teams, and beginnings.
Between those screens, I realized something about our strange forest:
Every week, someone takes their final bow,
And someone else steps onto the stage.
The rest of us sit quietly,
watching,
learning,
trying to understand the rhythm before pressing Send.
Same Forest. Different Monkeys.
For my mohine
If you’re not living on the edge,
you’re taking up too much space.
You showed us how to live bila fear.
Now we step to the sidelines
and let the next generation carry the fire.
Rest easy, G.
Off is off.
Mubarikiwe. Jah Bless.
🎵 Go with Song
If reflections like this resonate with you — about sport, leadership and the strange rhythm of change — subscribe to SalesFundike and join the conversation.
Idaho to Ihururu... Flat, yes, waru nation, yes...