The last moments of Amir Mohamed

Amir Mohamed, ‘The Paji’

William Shakespeare also said that some people are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.

If you wanted to see greatness in a person, you had to look no further than Amir Mohamed, more famously known on these pages as “The Paji”.

“Paji” is a term of endearment meaning “close friend”, and Amir Mohamed reserved that label only for those within his close circles.

I am proud to have been one of them. In a moment of great amusement, I threw it right back at him, affixing the definite article preceding it and transforming it into a title.

Thus his nickname was born. It was a nickname that would cement what began as a formal association between us, which later developed into a deep friendship. Amir was a true friend to many, but to this writer, he was more like an elder brother.

Amir was a man of many colours. Friend, confidant, philanthropist, mentor, teacher, influence, guiding light, icon, hero, associate, name it.

He was influential in shaping the informal automotive sector, the tuner crowd, not only by providing near-exclusive services through his garage — aptly named Auto Art — but also by spearheading a number of events that ultimately unified the otherwise motley crowd that is the petrolhead community.

As far as events go, Amir was in the founding team of the famous Hot Rides Motorshow, which had been held at Westgate for several years, until the infamous siege that forced the shutdown of the premises.

The Great Run was partly his idea too; the concept was borne as three of us — The Paji, The Jaw and I — sat in The Paji’s office searching for a project that would not only be enjoyable, but also relevant and beneficial to many people.

Being the philanthropist that he was, The Paji is the one who then declared (to our chagrin) that half of The Great Run’s earnings would go to charity, before expenses.

His mind worked incredibly fast, he disliked sloth, was a perfectionist but never made anyone uncomfortable around him.

His witty comebacks were the highlight of any discussion, whether in person or via digital platforms, and the quips more often than not served to defuse tension in heated forums. He brought out the best in people he worked with.

The Paji was the best driver I have ever come across. His vehicles were always perfectly set up. This should also explain why he dominated the TT events. But it also made it extremely difficult to believe that he had been in an accident. The one question that crossed all our minds was: “How?”

Jay H V Soni

The tragic events of Sunday March 15 involved two cars, and the second one was being driven by Jay H V Soni, another close friend (seen here on the left with his brother, Umang. He survived the accident, but with serious injuries.

Jay is a pilot and a budding car tuner, partly under Amir’s tutelage. He is the taciturn type: he listens more than he talks and was especially resourceful whenever I had questions about vehicle tuning.

He was a key consultant when I was setting up my scrutineer’s “office” at Auto Art Garage for last year’s Kiamburing TT events.

Jay’s love for motorsports is no secret. He at one point intended to join a Formula One team, but family business required him to reconsider. With a great affinity for engines and vast knowledge to boot, he instead studied aviation, not only becoming a pilot, but also studying the science behind aircraft. He took over and has successfully been running the airline division of the family business.

That did not drive him away from motoring, though. When the first Kiamburing event was held back in 2013, he was among the first to express interest in it. Besides, Jay, Umang and Amir were part of a team, with Jay acting as team manager. Amir and Umang referred to him as “Master Tuner”, and with good reason: the set-ups that both Amir and Umang ran on their vehicles when they each emerged victorious (Amir in Kiambu and Umang in Murang’a) were greatly dependent on Jay’s expertise.

Jay Soni did not take part in the last TT as a contender, but he played a role that rescued the event from degenerating into a total fiasco.

We had difficulties clearing the track owing to spectator misconduct. The two sweeper cars were barely enough to patrol the roads quickly enough: 16km is a long distance, and the first sweeper, an Audi A8 with a 6.0 litre W12 engine quickly went through its fuel tank, meaning it had to be beached after a while.

The remaining car could not handle the 32km up-and-down drive in time to keep the now-impatient spectators from getting bored and expressing their discontent through further disobedience. Jay Soni volunteered his services and his car, a silver Mercedes Benz C63 AMG, to act as a sweeper and provided updates on track conditions as he went. Within minutes, he had cleared the road and the competition resumed promptly.

 

Before he left Rome, Marcus had been in a fair way to becoming a charioteer, in Cradoc’s sense of the word, and now desire woke in him, not to possess this team, for he was not one of those who much be able to say ‘Mine’ before they can truly enjoy a thing but to have them out and harnessed; to feel the vibrating chariot floor under him, and the spread reins quick with life in his hands, and these lovely, fiery little creatures in the traces, his will and theirs at one...

 — Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle of the Ninth

Nissan Skyline R34 GTR, aka Godzilla

The car most closely associated with The Paji was also his own personal favourite, the 1998 BNR34 Nissan Skyline GTR V Spec II nicknamed Godzilla above.

He bought it from one of his close friends in 2008 and transformed the blue-on-white tuner special into a black-on-black low-slung manifestation of road-going excellence that quickly gained fame around enthusiast circles, not just in the country, but outside as well.

This is the car that would act as lead for our first three Great Run events, only retiring in favour of a Landcruiser Prado once the Great Run went off-road. It was also a key attraction at many a motor show.

The car then changed appearance again, when the Batman-esque colour codes were dropped in favour of pukka Nismo (Nissan Motorsports) livery. The Nismo R34 Z Tune car was silver, with black-and-red chequered flag decals on the bonnet and along the fenders, and it is this livery that next found a home on Amir’s Godzilla.

It was while bearing this Nismo livery that Godzilla had its first wrong turn of events: the bored-out 2.8 litre blew following an oil leak that sprang up suddenly in the course of a Kiamburing Time Trial event.

The leak caused the engine to seize, and one of the con-rods/pistons knocked a hole into the engine block on the upper part of the crankcase, left-hand side of the straight-6 engine.

The Paji was not one to stand by hemming and hawing at a ruined engine block, repairs were done immediately but it was clear that the now-ailing powerplant would never handle the vagaries of the ultra-high level of tune it originally had.

A new engine was quickly installed: a bone-stock V Spec Nür RB26DETT. It was with this replacement unit running under the bonnet that the unimaginable happened on that fateful day.

Mercedes-Benz C63 AMG

The W204 Mercedes Benz C63 AMG was the first of the C Class AMG range to come in a wider variety of body styles. While the previous W202 and W203 were all four-door saloons (and an estate for the 203), the 204 also had a two-door coupe option. Jay Soni’s vehicle, seen here, was a silver, four-door version.

Jay had left his car mostly untouched. It might not have had as colourful a life as the Skyline, but that did not make it any less interesting.

AMGs are brutal, and the noise that came out of the back of that car could be measured on the Richter scale. Like all other AMG cars, it had a certain stance; a type of posture as it sat on the road that left no doubt in any car buff’s mind that this was no ordinary Mercedes.

The incident...

So, what exactly happened? A head-on collision, that’s what.

Amir and Jay were members of a small, close-knit petrolhead community that conferred daily on a variety of topics. On that fateful day, some of us agreed to meet along the Ndumberi-Limuru byway in the morning to quickly check out the set-up The Paji was running on his GTR and give our views it.

Given the unsatisfactory condition of my car’s suspension set-up, I opted out of the meeting. It is a decision that will forever haunt me.

Now, allow me to clarify one or two things. There was no race in progress, nor had one been planned for that morning. The fact that the accident occurred on the same stretch of road we use for Kiamburing means nothing.

It so happened that on the fateful morning, Amir entered the Ndumberi-Limuru stretch of road from the Limuru side while Jay entered it from the Kiambu side.

About 10 kilometres from Kiambu, or around eight from Limuru, a slow-moving truck occupied the road, impeding other drivers’ progress.

It was near or around this truck that the accident happened. The details remain unclear for now, but there was a blind corner, the road was narrow, the truck was slow.

There was a heavy collision and the Skyline GTR caught fire.

The noise of the impact drew local villagers to the scene immediately. Rescue efforts were promptly launched: some managed to extract Jay, who was bleeding heavily, from the Mercedes, while others used all manner of materials to try and put out the fire that was quickly consuming the Skyline.

While Jay was rushed to hospital with critical injuries, The Paji did not survive .

The aftermath...

There has been a proliferation of self-proclaimed experts talking about “street racing” and “road safety”. Some have appeared on TV talking about roll-cages, as if roll-cages automatically eliminate slow-moving, poorly wired trucks from all narrow roads, widen the roads in question and bring back deceased colleagues. They don’t. Some have taken to posturing and grandstanding, sending half-hearted condolence messages with “I-told-you-so” innuendos.

The aftermath of the accident is full of opinionated vapour from unconcerned quarters. That happens; it is mostly terrible and in bad taste, but it happens.

The aftermath of the accident also means I have lost a dear friend, and I have been reduced to non-stop prayer as another dear friend lies in hospital fighting for his life.

I am not the only one: the two drivers have family and friends who are even more distraught than I am, and all the talk is not doing them any good, at all. Amir’s demise leaves us with a gap that cannot be filled and it is a non-stop struggle coping with the loss.

Is it too much to ask that we respect the legacy of Amir Mohamed as well as wish for the speedy recovery of Jay Soni?

Is it beyond the abilities of these loud-mouths to express their views without making unfounded references to what is, for all intents and purposes, a unmitigated disaster, not just to those close to the accident victims, but to the automotive, the tuning and the aeronautic industries at large?

Rest in peace, Amir Mohamed. Jay H V Soni, we wish you a full and timely recovery.

***

Road safety and safety in motorsports

n the recent past, there have been many directives aimed at reducing the number of fatalities on our roads. Some have worked, others haven’t. Still, there will always be accidents. All it takes is a certain combination of factors at a certain point in a certain place.

A good example would be this incident. There are those who blame unroadworthy vehicles, but the GTR and the AMG were in tip-top condition.

Others say bad roads lead to accidents, but the Ndumberi-Limuru Road is in excellent condition. There are the apologists who also cite “unfamiliarity” with the road; Amir and Jay knew the road intimately.

Then of course, there is the matter of speeding. But people crash even at 60km/h while driving mechanically sound vehicles. Seeing how none of us was present at the time of the crash, we can’t say how fast the two were going.

However, my surmise is the speeds were not insane. As stated earlier, there was no race in progress, so there was no need for speed.

The conspiracy theorists insisting on the race hypothesis should explain what kind of race it was where the contenders drive in opposite directions.

While the battle for road safety is ongoing and never-ending, safety in motorsports is a wholedifferent kettle of fish.

The measures are stringent, the scrutineers strict, the organisers place the largest amount of resources towards it but fatalities still occur. It is the curse of motorsports that participants might some point have to lay down their lives in the pursuit of glory.

That said, our fledgling enterprise, the Time Trial (TT) Motorsports, has never seen a single casualty.

Sure, some cars may have left the road in spectacular (and in one case amusing) fashion, but these did not result in any injuries, save for maybe a bruised ego here and frayed nerves there.

Rallying, on the other hand, can boast no such record. We have seen rally cars clearing whole groups of spectators. Yet nobody points fingers at rally drivers whenever a road accident occurs.

Just like road safety, even the most draconian of laws will not prevent accidents in motorsports. So what should we do? Create more laws? Come up with even stricter measures? Or should we just ban motorsports completely and say to hell with it?