My client Danie comes to mind. I will not use his real name because he will recognise himself immediately. Last year, Danie spent R14,000 on vehicle security. He installed a Ghost immobiliser and a Radio Frequency (RF) tracker.
He also bought a Faraday pouch. In addition, he applied smash-and-grab film to every window and purchased a steering lock. He bought the steering lock with great conviction but used it only twice. However, few people explain what these devices actually do. That lack of explanation forms part of the problem. I will return to this later.
Danie is not careless. Instead, he is a careful and intelligent man. He spent a fair amount on security gadgets and then stopped thinking about them. Yet he leaves his key fob on the kitchen counter every night. It sits eleven centimetres from an exterior wall. While he sleeps in his hollow, the fob broadcasts its signal cheerfully.
The key fob deserves a brief explanation. It is the small plastic remote clipped to your car key. The word fob, it turns out, is not a swear word. It also has nothing to do with cars or remotes. Nor does it relate to the modern habit of losing them between couch cushions.
Originally, a fob referred to a tiny hidden pocket. Tailors sewed it into the waistband of a gentleman’s trousers in the 1600s. It held a pocket watch. The pocket sat close to the body, remained out of sight and proved difficult to pick. The Victorians understood something important. If something had value, you kept it on your person. You did not leave it on a surface that broadcast into the street.
Four hundred years later, we have repurposed the word. We attached it to one of the most important keys in our lives. Then we placed it on the kitchen counter, eleven centimetres from an exterior wall. Progress. As we will see, that behaviour makes about as much sense as leaving your front door open. You might as well add a note that says, “Help yourself, I’m taking a kip”.
Before we continue, consider a number. Six thousand. That is roughly how many vehicle hijackings occurred in South Africa during the final three months of 2025. In practical terms, that means more than fifty incidents every single day. That number arrives before lunch. The figure is staggering.
Now pause before you research property prices in Greenland. Instead, consider what is actually happening to your vehicle. More importantly, consider what is not happening to protect it. Ironically, many people assume that cars are smart, but criminals often exploit the simple systems behind that assumption.
The factory alarm
Your car almost certainly came with an alarm. That sounds reassuring, but the reality differs. A standard factory alarm is largely decorative. It makes noise and little else. Over time, South Africans learned to ignore the sound completely. Years of false triggers created this habit.
You probably stopped paying attention somewhere between the third and fourth false alarm in a Woolworths parking lot. Thieves know this. In fact, they probably conducted extensive field research. Underestimate them at your peril.
In addition, an entire YouTube channel explains how to bypass factory immobilisers. These immobilisers supposedly prevent a car from starting without the correct key. The presenter appears calm and professional. He also clearly enjoys his work. One video alone has about 847,000 views.
In short, your factory alarm still addresses the security threats of 1995. Unfortunately, the threats have evolved. Many owners believe cars are smart, yet criminals exploit outdated protection systems every day.
The relay attack
Modern vehicle theft has become far more sophisticated. The balaclava-wearing thief with a brick is mostly yesterday’s problem. Today’s criminal resembles a mid-level IT professional. He works calmly and methodically. He carries equipment that looks like it belongs in a Takealot order rather than a police docket.
This is how a relay attack works. Your key fob constantly emits a low-level radio signal. Your car recognises that signal and unlocks when it appears nearby. Manufacturers assumed “nearby” meant you were standing next to the vehicle. However, two criminals with signal amplifiers can intercept the signal inside your house. They can then extend that signal to your car outside. These amplifiers cost roughly the same as a decent braai pack.
Your car faithfully assumes you are present. It unlocks and allows them to drive away. You discover the theft the following morning at six. Boof. The SUV disappears. All you have left are the keys. And the spare set of keys.
Code-grabbing works similarly. A thief stands nearby in a parking lot. The thief carries a small device in their pocket. When you press “lock”, the device intercepts the signal. Later, the thief replays that signal.
Your high-tech vehicle, affectionately named “Stallion”, opens without hesitation. It does not know the difference between you and a stranger. It simply recognises a signal. Once again, people assume cars are smart, yet the system still relies on a basic radio exchange.
Danie’s fob sits eleven centimetres from an exterior wall. All night, it broadcasts like a radio station. The thieves do not even need to enter his property. They only need to stand close enough. Unsurprisingly, this story has an unhappy ending.
Put a pouch in it
Fortunately, a simple solution exists. Use a Faraday pouch. Scientists named this pouch after Michael Faraday. Faraday was a nineteenth-century English scientist. He discovered that metal-lined enclosures block electromagnetic signals. If he knew his discovery would protect a Pretoria accountant’s BMW key, he might have chosen another profession.
A Faraday pouch looks simple. It resembles a small sleeve. Usually, it has leather on the outside and metallic mesh on the inside. When you arrive home, place your key fob inside the pouch. That is the entire process. The pouch blocks the signal. Without the signal, the relay attack cannot function. The pouch costs less than a tank of diesel and works instantly. Danie owns one. However, he chooses not to use it.
Your dealership’s advice – well-intentioned and mostly wrong
Many risk-conscious drivers visit their dealership for advice. Insurers love such people. They ask sensible questions about additional security.
The dealership manager often suggests a GPS tracker. He might also reassure you that the factory security system remains “state of the art”. Finally, he might warn that third-party security installations could void your warranty.
Unfortunately, two of those claims are either incomplete or incorrect. A GPS tracker uses the Global Positioning System. It communicates with satellites. It tells you where something is. In other words, it helps you locate the vehicle after theft. It does not prevent theft.
Thieves often remove trackers within forty minutes. They know exactly where to look. In South Africa, recovery rates for targeted vehicles sit below 30%. A GPS tracker, therefore, acts as a recovery tool, not a guardian angel.
The warranty myth deserves clarification. Authorised fitment centres can install third-party security systems without voiding the vehicle warranty. This myth persists because it suits certain commercial interests.
The OBD back door nobody locks
Under your dashboard sits a small socket called the OBD (On-Board Diagnostics) port. Manufacturers installed it so mechanics could read diagnostic data using a laptop. However, criminals discovered another use. They can plug a device into the port.
That device reprogrammes the car to accept a new key. The process takes less than a minute. There is no broken glass. There is no dramatic noise. The thief simply plugs in a device and waits. Suddenly, the vehicle believes it belongs to someone else.
An OBD port lock solves this problem. It is a simple physical cover. It prevents access to the socket. More so, it costs very little and removes this attack entirely. Unfortunately, most people do not know the port exists. I certainly did not until I researched this article.
The engine bay problem
Your bonnet stays closed using a release lever inside the cabin. If someone accesses that lever, they can open the engine bay within seconds. Once inside, the thief can disconnect the battery. The thief can also disable the alarm siren. In more ambitious cases, the thief can replace the Engine Control Unit (ECU).
The ECU acts as the brain of your vehicle. It controls fuel, ignition and many other systems. If someone installs a replacement ECU programmed for a different key, your entire security system collapses. An under-bonnet locking module prevents this access. It adds a physical lock inside the engine bay. This lock protects the battery, ECU and other critical components.
It is not glamorous. No one admires it the way they admire a well-aged glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. However, it stops a thief from replacing your ECU.
The “Ag, I’m insured” constituency
At this point, the “Ag, I’m insured” crowd deserves a hearing. Their argument contains some merit. You pay insurance premiums every month. Comprehensive cover exists for exactly this situation. The insurer assesses the claim, processes the paperwork and pays the settlement. Eventually, the vehicle is replaced.
Insurance provides peace of mind. However, it does not eliminate inconvenience. Uber bills accumulate. Your brother-in-law’s borrowed bakkie smells like Austin the dog. The radio remains stuck on a random station. The seat settings make no sense. Accordingly, the SAPS queue has its own ecosystem.
Eventually, you discover something unpleasant. “Retail value” and “replacement cost” rarely match.
Let us examine the numbers. Consider a R2 million vehicle. Danie’s theft excess might range between R10,000 and R200,000. Some insurers calculate excess as a percentage of the insured value. Ten percent equals R200,000. Fortunately, Danie chose a percentage-free excess option. That decision helped him avoid the worst outcome. However, he still faces additional costs.
Predictive analytics will classify him as a higher risk. His premiums may increase by 20%. On a R60,000 annual premium, that means an extra R12,000 to R20,000 per year. Before Danie even completes a claim form, he could lose R150,000 to R225,000. That is not mildly depressing. It is extremely depressing. And then there is time. Nobody can reimburse that.
Business owners face even greater risk. Commercial vehicles experience roughly double the hijacking rate of private vehicles. Criminals prefer a bakkie full of tools. It offers a better return on investment.
Talking prevention
A Ghost immobiliser works differently from most security systems. It connects directly to the vehicle’s CAN bus network. That network acts as the car’s internal communication system.
The device uses existing buttons on the steering wheel or centre console. You create a secret button sequence. For example: Volume Up, Volume Up, Cruise Control.
Without that sequence, the car will not start. The thief may have the key. However, the engine will remain silent. In this moment, the criminal learns something important. Despite assumptions that cars are smart, proper authentication still matters. An RF tracker offers another layer of protection. RF stands for Radio Frequency. Unlike GPS trackers, RF trackers communicate with ground-based receivers. They are harder to jam.
If criminals deploy a signal jammer, a GPS tracker often goes silent. However, a system with RF tracking and GSM alerts will detect the interference. GSM uses the same mobile network as your phone. When communication stops, the system immediately alerts you.
Visible steering locks and gear locks also play a role. They send a clear signal to thieves. The thief recognises that the vehicle will require time and tools. Often, the thief moves on. In risk management, this is called a probability shift. Probability shifts are extremely valuable.
Two-factor authentication and the nowhere man
The Ghost immobiliser includes another clever feature. It uses two-factor authentication. Banks use the same concept. Even if someone steals your password, they still need your phone to access your account.
Your vehicle can follow the same principle. The thief may steal or clone your key. The car recognises it. However, the engine still refuses to start. The thief needs the second authentication factor. Only you know the button sequence. Without that sequence, the thief sits in the leather seat of your expensive Stallion. The massage function may work. The engine will not.
Danie, revisited
Finally, consider the insurer’s perspective. Insurers already reward clients who avoid claims. That principle works well. However, they could also reward proactive security measures.
For example, they could reduce excess for verified Ghost immobilisers. They could offer premium discounts for Faraday pouch protocols. They might even reward under-bonnet locking modules.
Call it the “Danie Clause”. Danie eventually moved his key fob. We had a frank conversation. He felt mildly annoyed with me, which I understand. Respect matters more than popularity. The steering lock now sees regular use. The gear lock remains in the boot, but progress continues.
Before leaving, Danie told me something interesting. He said the entire security routine felt excessive. It seemed paranoid. Surely such a theft would never happen to him.
Optimism bias remains strong in South Africa. Meanwhile, the man with 847,000 YouTube views probably hears the same sentence from his victims. Chop shops remain open. Syndicates remain active. The gap between insurance payouts and real-world costs still exists. Ultimately, the best vehicle theft outcome is simple. The theft never happens.
Prevention always beats premiums. Put the fob in the pouch. Or do not. You are insured. What could possibly go wrong?
Tim Chadwick | CEO | Chadwicks | mail me |
