The Mitsubishi Question, The Flight to Nowhere and Thunder beats Revenue
Same Forest Different Monkeys. March Madness.
The Mitsubishi Decision
Somewhere in the new millennium,
around the time Kenya said Tosha
things started moving differently.
New ministers, new money, new businesses, new energy.
The telco wars had just begun to twist behavior in ways we didn’t fully understand at the time.
Peculiar habits became bae,
Many started started wearing green like it was ideology,
others defending per-second billing like it was a political position,
calling themselves “The Better Option” with chest.
There was optimism in the air. A feeling that something had shifted. History requires perspective, but in that moment, it felt like the country had taken a step forward.
Credit became accessible. Especially for cars.
And for many of us, that’s where the real decision-making began.
I was right in that dangerous middle
where you can almost afford the life you want,
but not quite.
Not struggling. Not comfortable.
Just close enough to make decisions that can quietly define the next ten years of your life.
So the question wasn’t just about buying a car.
It was about what kind of life I was choosing.
The Choice of Compromise
Do I take a chill pill—pace myself, build slowly, play the long game?
Or do I go all in—burn fuel, take risks, chase life properly with everything that comes with it?
Marriage, responsibility, work pressure, sherehe, the full Nairobi starter pack.
Like many young professionals at the time, I was looking for a car. But not just a car. A statement.
Because at that age, the car is never transport.
It is arrival. It is validation.
It is proof—mostly to yourself—that you are on the right track.
There were two obvious choices.
If money was not a problem, you went Subaru.
Clean lines. Aggressive stance. Fast.
The kind of car that doesn’t ask questions and says “kesi baadaye”
But money was a problem.
Not a big one. Not a small one.
Just enough of a problem to introduce something far more dangerous than lack: Compromise.
So I bought a Mitsubishi.
The Mitsubishi was not a bad car. In fact, it was a very good car. Reliable. Respectable. Practical. It did exactly what it was supposed to do. And that is precisely what made it dangerous.
Because the Mitsubishi sits in a very specific place in life (at the time).
Not first choice.
Not last choice.
Somewhere in the middle. Second. Third. Fourth.
Fighting quietly between
doing the right thing (Toyota)
and doing things right (Subaru).
The kind of decision you make when you are thinking long-term, managing risk, balancing ambition with reality. And if we’re honest, many of you reading this have made a Mitsubishi decision.
With jobs: You didn’t take the dream role; you took the stable one.
With business: You didn’t go all in; you adjusted the model to fit what looked sensible.
With relationships: You didn’t choose the chaos; you chose the one that made sense on paper.
At the time, it felt wise. But somewhere between your mid-thirties and mid-forties, something shifts. You stop asking, “Did I make the right decision?” and start asking, “Did I make the only decision I could maintain?”
The Flight to Nowhere
This past week, a story quietly made the rounds.
A flight took off, burned fuel, followed procedure, did everything it was supposed to do—and landed back where it started.
No destination reached. No crisis. No catastrophe.
Just movement without progress.
A clean execution of a journey that went nowhere.
At least The Kenyan Flying Sikh won the rally.
And that is where it becomes uncomfortable.
Because if you strip away the aviation language, what you are left with is something many of us understand very well.
Activity that looks like progress.
Motion that feels like achievement.
The dashboards are green. The reports are clean.
The meetings are happening.
But the destination?
Still pending.
That is the Mitsubishi decision at scale.
Because once you commit to that middle path, you don’t crash.
You don’t fail loudly.
You don’t even look like you are struggling.
You simply move.
Consistently. Respectably. Safely.
In circles. And the world will even applaud you for it because from the outside, everything looks like it’s working.
Until time passes. And you start asking yourself the question nobody wants to ask out loud: Is this a journey, or just a well-managed loop?
The Market of “Potential”
The pitch deck. You’ve seen it. Big numbers.
Africa rising. Slides full of potential. Charts that go up and to the right.
And technically, none of it is wrong.
”Lakini vitu kwa ground ni different” (the ground says something else)
But potential is not realized value. The same way an individual makes a Mitsubishi decision, so do businesses.
We don’t go all in. We “see how it goes.” We build models that can survive instead of models that can dominate.
We celebrate entry instead of scale. We become very good at operating within limits we quietly accepted at the beginning.
It looks like stability. But it’s actually a flight that took off, flew beautifully, and landed exactly where it started.
The Third Choice: Readiness Over Planning
Now here is where it gets interesting. Because life is rarely a binary choice between the Subaru (Risk) and the Mitsubishi (Safety). Sometimes,
there is a Third Choice.
The one nobody planned for. The one that shows up when systems break and decisions are forced.
Th Independent reports:
”Leonard Prescott, a 16-year-old goalkeeper for Bayern Munich, is set to make his senior debut at the age of 16.
Prescott’s calm demeanor and technical skills have earned him praise, and he is seen as a promising talent for the club. His debut could mark him as the youngest goalkeeper to play in the Champions League, potentially breaking records for Bayern Munich and Germany. (yes he’s german)
Think of Stephen Donald at the 2011 Rugby World Cup.
He wasn’t the first-choice fly-half.
Or the second. Or the third.
He was literally on holiday when he got the call because the “planned” systems had failed.
He didn’t come in to “manage” the game; he came in to take it.
He kicked the decisive penalty and delivered the cup.
This is the bridge we often miss. We spend our lives choosing between “Safe” and “Risky,” but the universe often demands “Ready.” When the system breaks, it doesn’t matter if you drive a Mitsubishi or a Subaru.
What matters is whether you are standing there with your boots on when the moment arrives.
Then the Thunder Struck
Nairobi didn’t whisper this weekend.
It announced itself.
Just like the floods.
On 21st March 2026 at Nyayo Stadium, Nairobi City Thunder faced Ghana Revenue Authority. They didn’t just play; they controlled. An 84–69 victory. This wasn’t a “Mitsubishi” performance—it wasn’t about just showing up or managing a respectable loss. It was an execution of momentum.
If only the headlines would read
“Taxman Knocked. Nairobi Answered — Not Today.”
When you zoom out, the pattern becomes clearer.
Shujaa (Kenya Mens 7s rugby) delivered moments in Montivideo.
The Lionesses (Kenya Women 7s) fight through transition.
And now basketball steps forward.
These aren’t people making “safe” decisions.
They are people who realized that the “middle path” of just being “competitive” is no longer enough.
Same Forest. Different Monkeys.
Some of us chose the Mitsubishi.
Safe. Balanced. Sustainable.
Some chose the Subaru.
Fast. Risky. Unapologetic.
But every once in a while, a moment comes that ignores both. A moment that doesn’t care about your careful planning or your calculated compromise. A moment that asks a much simpler question:
Are you ready?
Because in the end, the question was never the car. It was never the job. It was always this:
When your moment comes, will you manage it?
Or will you take it?
Reflection for the week: * In your career choices, your team selection —
Are you choosing “safe” over “true”?
In your business—are you building for survival or for dominance?
In your life—what decision are you postponing because it is uncomfortable
“Because sometimes… the real win is not the scoreboard. It’s the moment you stop negotiating with fear —and start playing your own game.”
If this one hit home, don’t keep it to yourself.
Pull up a chair. Bring your people.
Tag the one guy still playing it safe.
Forward it to that partner who’s been hesitating.
Share it with the team that needs a reminder that this thing is bigger than survival.
This is the arena. This is where we talk straight. No filters. No safe answers.
Because everything about this life is a fight.
Welcome to the journey.
Same Forest. Different Monkeys.
If you’ve been reading quietly every week… it might be time.
Subscribe. Join the journey. Don’t just pass through — belong.
Mubarikiwe. Jah Bless.
Go with song