He Asked for Brutal Honesty on His Camry – I Gave Him Something Else
I’ve been doing automotive reviews, car test drives, and real-world vehicle comparisons for over a decade. From budget sedans to luxury SUVs, from fuel-efficient cars to performance monsters, I’ve driven them all.
But two nights ago, during what was supposed to be a routine car review, I learned something no spec sheet, no horsepower chart, and no 0–100 km/h test could ever teach me.
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It started with a DM.
“Bro, can you review my car tonight? I need honest feedback. Like… brutally honest.”
That already told me this wasn’t going to be a normal car review experience.
I pulled up to a dimly lit street in Lekki Phase 1 around 9:47 p.m. Streetlights buzzing. Generator hums. Lagos is breathing heavily like it always does at night.
There it was:
A 2014 Toyota Camry.
Not new.
Not flashy.
But clean.
Stock rims. No body kit. Slight scratch near the rear bumper—life had touched this car.
The owner stepped out. Late 20s. Hoodie. Red eyes.
“You’re the car guy, yeah?”
“Yeah. Let’s do a proper test drive,” I said.
I slid into the driver’s seat.
First thing I noticed?
The steering felt tight. Not abused. Not loose. Someone maintained this car properly.
That already told me a lot.
I turned the ignition.
No rough idle.
No engine knocking.
No dashboard Christmas lights.
“Suspension done last year,” he said quickly.
“New brake pads too. I service it on time.”
I nodded.
Ten years in automotive journalism teaches you this:
People who over-explain usually hide problems.
People who state facts calmly usually don’t.
We pulled onto the road.
I tested throttle response. Smooth.
Gear shifts? Clean.
Fuel economy? This thing sipped petrol like it respected my wallet.
“This Camry will outlive both of us if you keep this up,” I joked.
He didn’t laugh.
As we merged onto the expressway, he suddenly said:
“I’m selling it tomorrow.”
That surprised me.
“Why? This is one of the most reliable used cars I’ve driven in months.”
He stared straight ahead.
“Because my dad died in it.”
Silence.
The road noise filled the space between us.
“Heart attack,” he continued.
“I was in the passenger seat. We were coming back from the mechanic. The irony, yeah?”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
I’ve reviewed cars involved in accidents before.
I’ve talked about car safety ratings, reliability scores, build quality.
But this?
This was different.
We parked under a flyover. Orange lights. Shadows dancing on the hood.
“Everyone tells me to sell it,” he said.
“They say it’s bad luck.”
I turned to him.
“What do you think?”
He swallowed.
“This car saved me.”
I blinked.
“The brakes worked perfectly. We didn’t crash. He passed peacefully. If this was a poorly maintained car… maybe I wouldn’t be here.”
That hit me harder than any high-speed test run ever had.
I handed him my verdict, not as a reviewer, but as a human being.
“From an automotive review standpoint?” I said,
“This Camry is reliable, fuel-efficient, safe, and mechanically solid. It’s exactly why people trust Toyota.”
Then I paused.
“From a life standpoint?
This car already did its job.”
He smiled for the first time.
“So… should I sell it?”
I shook my head.
“Not yet. Some cars aren’t just machines.
Some are chapters.”
I went home that night and didn’t upload any car review content.
No specs.
No comparison charts.
No “Top 5 Reasons to Buy.”
Just this realization:
After 10+ years in automotive & car reviews, I’ve learned that cars aren’t just about engine performance, interior comfort, or resale value.
Sometimes, the best car isn’t the newest one.
It’s the one that carried you through something you survived.
And that’s a review no algorithm can fully measure.
If you’re choosing a car—whether it’s a used car, a daily driver, or something for long-term reliability—look beyond trends. Look at maintenance history. Build quality. Safety. Real-life stories.
Because one day, your car might do more than move you.
It might save you.
