All Souls Day: Remembering Those Who Left and How Rexona Got Her Groove Back
A Requiem for the Haka — and Every (Wo)man Who Lost Their Mojo (#SameForestDifferentMonkeys Series)
Today the world lights candles.
Some for the departed.
Some for the dreams we quietly buried while pretending to be fine.
All Souls Day isn’t only for the dead — it’s for the living who’ve forgotten how to live.
For the woman who stopped singing.
For the man who stopped laughing.
For the friend who used to lead the dance floor but now fades into the wallpaper at weddings.
Some souls leave. Others just dim for a while.
🕯 Candles for the Living and the Lost
We all carry ghosts — the people we’ve loved and the versions of ourselves that once felt unstoppable.
Grief isn’t just about funerals; it’s about the confident young self you once were before fear, bills, or heartbreak turned you cautious.
It’s about the job that gave you purpose, the client who made you believe, the team that made you proud.
So today, light your candle not just for “Shosho” or your old mentor — but for that younger, hungrier, lighter version of you whispering:
They haven’t seen you yet.
🏉 Requiem for the Haka and an Ode to the Herbivore That Grew Teeth
Once upon a time, when men in black jerseys faced the world, entire nations trembled before kickoff.
The Haka wasn’t a dance — it was a declaration.
A roar from the edge of the world that said, We are coming for you.
Now it feels… rehearsed. Polished. A viral clip waiting for likes. (NZRU should package it for the next Tiktok challenge)
Don’t get me wrong. I am a die hard AmaBlacka supporter. From David Kirk lifting the first Web Ellis Trophy, to fielding a surfer who won the cup with beach sand still stuck in his boots.
We Are WAN!!
But somewhere between sponsorship deals, player rotations, and polite post-match interviews, the All Blacks lost the aura that made them mythical.
The haka didn’t lose its meaning.
We just stopped believing in it.
That’s how greatness fades — not in one bad game but in the slow comfort of being called “the once undefeated.” (Arsenal fans were just chilling.)
When people stop fearing your aura, your legend begins to die.
Across the pond our favourite African herbivore continued to mutate.
It has a new set of incisors and has developed a taste for exotic foods.
First was kangaroo meat — a bit tough and chewy at the start, softer at the Cape — then came the kiwi fruit (a bit early for dessert, but dessert all the same) and closed with Argie beef as Le digestif:
Yesterday they were served sushi… and we all know how that ended.
Isn’t that the same in business, love, and life?
You can’t invoice nostalgia.
Legacy is a candle, not a torch. It burns out if you don’t relight it.
💼 When Rexona Got Her Groove Back
There was a time Rexona was the default African deodorant. (Don’t shoot the messenger — Google AI said it.)
Rexona is an Australian-created, British-Dutch-owned global brand that had a leading market position across East Africa.
In the mid-to-late 20th century*, Rexona was a prominent, widely used, and well-regarded brand in East Africa, where it was manufactured by East Africa Industries (later Unilever) alongside other essential household products like OMO, Lux, and Lifebuoy. It held a strong position in the market during this time.
For the Gen X readers, please note the Google reference to your youthful days — “mid-to-late 20th century.” 😅
You wore it to your first date, your first job interview, and your first church service.
Then it disappeared — buried under imported sprays with complicated names and celebrity faces.
But guess who’s back.
Rexona has returned with a men’s line, cooler packaging, and the quiet confidence of a brand that knows it once ruled the locker room (and the wallet 😉).
It didn’t invent freshness; it just reminded us it still had it.
That’s the beauty of comebacks — they rarely start with reinvention.
They start with remembering… and then the price point — meeting the customer at the nexus of a positive bank balance and Fuliza.
Businesses, like people, lose their mojo when they forget who they are and who they serve.
Rexona’s revival wasn’t just about scent; it was about reconnection — with everyday Africans who still want to smell good, stay dry, and feel seen.
If a deodorant can stage a comeback, so can your business, your brand, or your dream.
🤝 The Lost Art of Showing Up
Sales today is shiny — a great profile pic and an AI-generated LinkedIn CV that makes you sound like a biblical prophet with the ability to raise the dead.
CRMs, LinkedIn strategies, automated emails — efficient but soulless.
We’ve automated charm, outsourced curiosity, replaced conversations with dashboards.
Maybe it’s time to dust off the old rolodex.
Attend that “chama social” or High school reunion you’ve been dodging.
Show up at Bible Study Fellowship, the local pub, or your former client’s child’s graduation —
Not to sell, but to reconnect.
Because relationships are built on memory, not metrics.
A CRM can track a contact — but it can’t make someone remember your laugh.
Sometimes the next big deal hides in a random queue at your child’s school bursar’s office, where we glance knowingly at each other with “installment payment” on our lips.
Sometimes the best follow-up is just,
“How are you holding up?”
In sales, as in life, when you reconnect, you remember
And when you remember, you revive.
🔥 Finding the Mojo Again
Every comeback begins when someone decides they’re not done.
That’s it. No fireworks. No motivational soundtrack. Just a whisper that says, try again.
And then there’s the 50-year-old still keeping a light burning — for that old flame, that big deal, that new job.
It’s not going to happen, sis/bro… but keep the candle anyway.
Hope, however foolish, is still light.
Not everyone gets their shine back, but everyone can choose to glow a little longer.
So tonight, we raise a quiet toast:
To the ones who left, and to the ones who stayed.
To those who failed publicly and rebuilt privately.
To the men and women who lost their aura but never their fight.
November is Men’s Month — but this isn’t just for men.
It’s for every soul that’s ever looked in the mirror and thought,
I used to be more than this.
You still are.
You just forgot where you put the fire.
Light your candle. Call your people.
Mourn what’s gone, then fix your crown.
Your haka may be muted — but your soul can still roar.
💬 Share this with someone who’s trying to find their fire again.
🔥 Which part of your life, business, or sales game needs a Rexona moment — a little refresh to smell like confidence again?
Share in the comments, DMs etc
☕ Call us for chai & a chat
https://salesresourceafrica.co.ke/contact-us/