Career and business fortunes are gauged by the type of car one is driving. The bigger the car, the more successful one is deemed to be, even if the bank balance is on life support.
By extension, bar room banter has it that the car your wife drives is a pointer to your preferred method of solving domestic disputes.
They say that a woman spinning a 1970s Peugeot 504 or a Volvo 240 is likely to settle domestic scores with pots and pans on your head.
The study, published mid this year, adds that although many men have difficulties in talking about relationships, they wax lyrical about their four-wheeled pride and joy.
The typical Kenyan man, says motoring consultant Gavin Bennet, views a car as an element of power and prestige.
“The real passion for mechanics and specifications of the car is very limited. What is important is the status.”
The average Kenyan’s obsession with cars pales in comparison with that in Western capitals, says Bennet. However you wouldn’t miss the car maniacs at the annual Concours d’elegance, a signature event that portrays this love for cars.
In this event, classic cars, some as old as 80 years, which have been painstakingly restored complete for various prizes.
Prof Obel, the man who is associated with the Pearl Omega HIV-Aids therapy, is addicted to cars. When I called him for this interview on Saturday, his whereabouts was not complete without a car.
We were to meet at the junction of Waiyaki Way-James Gichuru Road junction and he would be in a Mercedes Benz 260 SE, KAB 057C.
He was driving from his home in Lavington, for Loresho, his other residence that doubles up as parking for five of his 10 cars.
The idea was to trail the Mercedes to Loresho, where we would conduct the interview. The short drive offered us a sneak preview to this controversial HIV-Aids researcher’s love for cars.
When he hit Waiyaki Way, headed towards Kangemi we had to do over 100 Kph to keep pace in our Toyota Corolla.
“I love cars. But not just any car. Only the fast and stable,” he told us later. Obel was last in the news for shooting at a Matatu driver who had blocked his way.
At his Loresho home, a big white-walled mansion with neat cabro stones set on a moderate compound, a Mercedes Benz S320, the SE, a BMW 728i, Volvo 240 and two Peugeot 504s are parked at the front drive. They are assiduously polished from the tires to the interiors. Tanks are always full, Obel explains, to keep them rust-free.
Apart from the Peugeots, he bought his other cars straight from the manufacturers in Germany, designed to his specifications. It took craftsmen in Bavaria four years to customize the BMW which features a loyal blue interior, all round airbags, retractable rear curtains, in-built GSM phone and cruise control among other features. The design, says the professor, was inspired by a six-star hotel and first class flights.
The Mercedes Benz S320 is equally luxurious, with an interior roomy enough to keep a dinosaur comfortable. This car, delivered in 1996, was the first S-Class series in the country, he claims.
Obel won’t reveal how much the cars have cost him but sell them and you’ll easily bankroll a rural electrification project.
“I’ve had 21 cars, most of which I’ve given away to my relatives. I don’t sell my cars even after I’m tired of driving them.”
Obel has been offered up to four times the initial cost of the BMW but he will not part with it.
Car lovers tend to be eccentric. Obel’s marques must have a 5, 7, 1 or 0 on the number plates. His Mercedes are KAG 057T and KAB 056T while the BMW is KAL 555K.
He takes us for a spin in the quiet, Loresho and Spring Valley roads, his love for speed and classy cars apparent. Surely, he believes that speed never kills but the instant coming to a halt does.
“The makers in Germany gave me a 15 year guarantee … if I roll in this car, I should leave it at that particular spot and they will replace it at no extra cost.”
Prof Obel is not a member of any local motorists association. Before he acquired his made-to-order cars, he used to go for a drive on the German autobahns “where you are arrested for driving slowly.”
The shooting incident. Did it have anything to do with fear that the matatu driver would dent his Mercedes?
“No,” he is emphatic. “It was a matter of time. I had to rush home to switch off a certain experiment by noon that day. Had I failed to do so, my home would have been blown up.”
Be it an executive limousine, a four-wheel drive behemoth or a rust bucket, whose value is easily doubled by filling the fuel tank, men’s love for cars is deteriorating into an obsession.
And this obsession transcends age groups, from the newly-employed youngsters whose job benefits come with a car loan to retirees in battered models.
“When a matatu closes in on my lane, I feel pain for my car. I could lift it by helicopter if I had the ability, rather than risk having a dent on it,” says Media Owners Association chairman Hanningtone Gaya.
He is talking about the black 2007 model of the Honda CRV, one of his seven cars.
The rest are three older versions of the CRV, a Mitsubishi Galant VR, an Alfa Romeo 156 and a Mitsubishi Outlander.
Though he is a family man and publisher of several magazines under his Media 7 company, (including Motor,) it isn’t odd to find Gaya personally washing and waxing his cars on a Saturday afternoon.
“With a good car, you get a lot of unnecessary attention,” says the man who last used public means of transport over 20 years ago.
Gaya talks about his new CRV for which he coughed out Sh6 million, with a tinge of contentment.
“Recently, I attended a fundraising event for a certain parliamentary aspirant and was flattered when the convocation, which included company chief executives and politicians in big sports utility vehicles came admiring the CRV. It’s the only such Honda in the country.”
About 30 cars have passed through Gaya’s hands since his graduation from a pedestrian to a proud owner of an Alfa-Sud in 1985.
A teetotaller and non-smoker, taking care of his cars is his favourite past time.
At the annual Concours d’elegance, the cars aren’t meant for daily use but are rather restored as works of art.
“Concours represents the ideal opportunity for caring owners to present their machines for assessment and show them to fellow motoring enthusiasts,” says Bob Dewar, chairman and founder member of the Alfa Romeo Owners club, which organises the annual event.
Some of the Concours cars cost as much as Sh1 million to buy and repair to competition quality. But, adds Dewar, the time and effort that goes in the repair surpasses any amount spent.
The love for cars has also given rise to other motoring clubs namely the Vintage and Car Classic and Mini Owners.
They express their love for their machines through several ways. The Alfa Romeo Owners club, for example has the Economy Run, an annual competition on who can drive their cars to Naivasha on the fewest drops of petrol.
“Your car is very much part of your image,” says Bennet, who owns a Classic Toyota Land Cruiser and VW Beetle, a Mitsubishi Pajero and a Scorpio.
“If you want to be seen as a successful businessman, you don’t drive around in a sports car.”
During the Kenyatta era, the Mercedes Benz was the ultimate status badge. It belonged to the filthy rich who were befittingly called wabenzi.
Cars also have a magical effect on women, it is said. May be it has to do with the natural instinct to go for men with superior genes as symbolised by the ability to make money, which explains the BMW on his drive way.
“Even if you are not good looking,” says Gaya, “the women get attracted to you in droves.”
Then there are those who express their love for their cars through accessories. This is most popular with young urban professionals and celebrities. They call it “souping up” or “pimping my ride.”
The most commonly used techniques are tinting windows, installing spoiler, neon lights, halogen headlights, powerful stereos, wide rims and oversize tires.
However, this devotion to cars can be problematic when you spend more time and money on the car than your wife.
According to a past study published on progressive.com, globally 17 percent of men would rather buy a gift for their cars rather than for a spouse on Valentine’s Day. Forty five per cent believe their cars are a better companion than their wives while 46 per cent would rather wash their cars than do laundry.
Up to 27 per cent love their cars more than their in-laws, while 53 per cent love their cars so much that they carry a picture of it around.
Read original story on Nation
Discover more from Magari Poa
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
