When the Siren Calls — (Women, SUVs and the Silence of the Subaru boys)
The irresistible need for that premium client, that trophy husband, and your SUV #SameForest #DifferentMonkeys
The Siren Story
In Greek mythology, the Sirens sat on rocky islands, singing sailors into ruin. Their song was irresistible — sweet, powerful, promising adventure and glory. But those who steered too close soon discovered the price: broken ships, drowned crews, and reputations sunk on the rocks.
Today, the Siren still calls. Only now she comes dressed as the premium client flashing margins, the trophy boyfriend everyone envies, or the SUV that wins the carpark wars. They all promise status, applause, and validation — but too often leave behind drained resources, broken morale, and teams asking, “Was it worth it.”
The SUV Siren (and why women answer it)
Let me be controversial: I opine there are more women SUV owners than men in Kenya today. And it’s not by accident.
The petite, soft-spoken, polished lady who steps into a carpark and presses unlock on a V8, a Prado, or a Discovery knows her SUV shouts something different:
“I’m male. Try me.” (Nissan Juke left the group.)
She’s been bullied by bad-mannered men in boardrooms expecting her to serve tea, cut off by matatus, harassed by boda bodas — until the SUV cured it all (or so she thought). The car became armour, status, and voice.
It’s the same way the Siren client feels: irresistible protection, glamour, power. But the maintenance costs — financial, emotional, operational — ask a harder question:
Is the shine worth the burn?
The Business Siren — The A PLUS Account, The Golden Child
In Kenya we have our fair share… strangely enough, many of them wear green (or some smattering of green). One was once a call box. Another synonymous with teacher’s salaries. Completing the trifecta is a former duka in Naks.
But how times change… now they are the dream client of every business. Every business owner wants to have them in their portfolio.
Managing them is a true labour of love. Negotiating through their complex decision-making matrix, the labyrinth of stakeholder layers, trying to balance the needs of the end user versus those of KYC, finance, and responsible corporate citizenry. Not for the faint-hearted.
Big companies have big needs and many a brave soldier has been buried in the graveyard of procurement rules. Too shy to admit defeat, full of belief that one day the gods will smile on you. Many a salesperson has been sacrificed at the altar of hope and breakthrough.
This is the girl or guy your mum warned you about. If the gods smile on you, you better be prepared. Your customer care team will be forever frazzled, walking around like they just got electrocuted, haze in their eyes as they answer the client calls almost robotically.
Your account manager no longer reports to work at your premises but goes directly to the Siren’s house ready to deal with today’s neediness.
But truth is, some of us are addicted to the unpredictability. The knot in your stomach when the HR boss calls and says the Chairman’s wife was mistreated.
Yet nothing beats the rush of blood to your head when the bank manager calls you to ascertain the source of the ridiculous amount of cash that has just been transferred to your account.
Many of us salespeople dream of that day and celebrate the moment when it comes (it’s rare). Like we say in Kenya: customer complaints don’t scare us…
KESI BAADAYE.
Football’s Sirens: Big Names, Bigger Bills
Business isn’t alone. Football is littered with Sirens:
Kylian Mbappé to Real Madrid — the deal of dreams. Madrid stacked their Galácticos, yet the UEFA crown still slipped away.
Chelsea of old — headline signings everywhere, but the EPL title found its way to Liverpool. Klopp resisted Sirens, choosing not to walk alone but with hungry youthful players instead of overfed egos.
PSG after Mbappé — once drunk on Neymar, Messi, and Mbappé, they dumped the Sirens. With a young, disciplined squad, they finally lifted the UEFA Cup.
The Siren signing looks good on billboards.
But if it drains your team, the glitter fades fast.
Love’s Siren: The Trophy Boyfriend
Not every Siren drives a German machine. Sometimes he’s the trophy boyfriend. Smooth talker, sharp dresser, the man your friends post about with envy. He brings selfies, dinners, maybe even a proposal. The rugby player is no longer vogue; the Vinyasa Yoga instructor is bae… (yes, I said Vinyasa).
But beneath the gloss, he’s high-maintenance — emotionally draining, needy, insecure. You carry him more than he carries you.
Women endure him for appearances (we think) — because of how he looks on their arm, not what he adds to their soul.
Smaller companies endure the Siren client for the same reason:
Ego, not profit. (But if it’s worth the ride… heck kaende kaende.)
The Flatbed Wars: SUV Edition
Scroll any Kenyan car group and you’ll find the “flatbed wars.”
Land Rover fans gleefully post X5s stranded on tow trucks.
BMW fans clap back with pics of Discoverys. (Flatbeds call them boo.)
Benz drivers quietly delete GLS photos.
And the Subaru boys? Silent… because they discovered who’s their daddy.
Meanwhile, Toyota is just chilling — unbothered, quietly buying out everyone in the market.
That’s the Siren trap. The shiny SUV — like the premium client — promises prestige, but often strands you on the roadside.
Meanwhile, the Proboxes of your life — the friend who posts bail when you’ve been arrested, the small business accounts, your ride-or-die taxi guy —
They keep showing up and getting you home.
Rugby’s Siren Warning
The Springboks are reigning world champions — the “Holy Grail” of rugby. But that crown has made them targets.
Their warmups were soft. Perfect for Rassie to play his usual roulette with Springbok caps.
But when it counted, they stumbled:
Knocked-on against Australia.
Fumbled through a weak second test.
Then fell at Eden Park, fortress of NZ Rugby.
Taking the pitch at Eden Park is like playing Shabana at Gusii Stadium after sweet banana season: the home team refuses to lose.
The All Blacks stretched their fortress streak to 51-0. Champions became hunted, not hunters. (Next week, wembe ni ule ule… karibu kinyozi.)
Australia? No Siren squad, no glittering names. But grit, structure, and hunger carried them to wins against both the Lions and the Boks. Against Argentina, they twice refused easy penalties and decided to “gwara.” Many a Kenyan schoolboy would be proud.
Proof you don’t need Sirens to succeed — hunger will carry you over the line.
(My bet: Shabana will be the hottest sports brand in years to come, overtaking K’Ogalo.)
#SalesFundiKe’s au revoir/oriti/nidziruka
Sirens sing. They promise trophies, clients, glory, and applause. They lure us with SUVs, boyfriends, big deals, and flashy signings.
But behind the song lie rocks that drain, break, and sometimes destroy.
The question remains: Are Sirens worth the pain? Or do we do it Kenyan style and shrug — “KESI BAADAYE” — full speed ahead, and toast to Death, Destruction & Valhalla, like a victorious gladiator riding out with Tupac’s “Me & My Girlfriend” on full blast.
👉 Have you faced a Siren? A client, a partner, a car, or a hire that promised glory but delivered pain? Reply and share your story.
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(No chai this week, back next week.)