In the business of danger (and the danger of doing business)
The road lays quiet in the pre-dawn fog, but not for long. As the rising sun burns away the previous night’s mist, the motorcycles come, and they come by the dozens—too fast, too loud, and too dangerously oblivious in their mad, adrenaline-fueled rush.
This is the Transcentral Highway (TCH) on any given day. It cuts through the heart of Cebu Province, taking travellers from city to summit to sea in less than two hours—mere minutes for the more reckless. It is two lanes of sharp turns, blind curves, and sudden dips, bordered by deep ravines on both sides. Speed limits are unenforced and, in some stretches, non-existent—a road so dangerous that locals are unlikely to bat an eyelash at the latest fatalities.
For Kristine Manreza, the TCH is, quite literally, the road to freedom. Every weekend, she goes on 100-kilometre rides, unfazed by the danger of the TCH and many of Cebu’s lawless streets. “Riding clears my mind. Doing long rides provides me the opportunity to enjoy the scenery, go places, and meet new people,” she explained. “It relaxes me.”
Racing through the winding highway on her pride and joy, a 1200-cc Triumph Bobber, she stands out among the ubiquitous scooters and more modest dual-sport bikes of the island. She cuts an impressive figure: clad in black denim and leather, full-sleeve tattoos (almost her entire upper body is inked), and Dr. Martens boots. She has a pretty face and an easy smile, but she is far from the average ‘manic pixie dream girl’ yet also not quite a ‘hell-raising biker chick.’ Some may even say she is unusual, which Manreza shrugs off as a fact. She is, undoubtedly, her own person: no-nonsense and unapologetic, a devoted mom to three daughters, and an accomplished businesswoman many times over.
People deal with danger in two ways: run from it or meet it head-on. Few choose the latter, but they almost always come out all the better for it when they do. With a contentious marriage and, later, a volatile relationship in her rear-view, Manreza is certainly no stranger to danger. Instead, she has found a way to thrive in it. Better yet, she built something glorious and profitable out of it.
‘Peligro,’ a Spanish word that’s well-absorbed in the post-colonial Cebuano vernacular, rolls off the tongue beautifully. It literally means ‘danger,’ apt for a brand conceived for the fast-paced, risk-taking, and road-loving lifestyle that Manreza herself manifests. The telltale smiling skull leaves little doubt of what Peligro, as a brand, represents: memento mori, a reminder of the reality of death, expectedly resonant in the age of COVID-19.
“For a local brand, Peligro’s quality is very good. You really get what you pay for,” said Ibz Dedel, a motorcycle enthusiast and one of the brand’s earliest patrons. “I moved to Canada last year, and I still wear Peligro with pride.”
Manreza personally curates every item in the shop—at present, running the gamut from apparel to leather goods to personal care products. Indeed, when one wears and uses Peligro, one acknowledges one’s mortality and commits to living a life filled with beauty, adventure, and not-at-all-cheap thrills.
Peligro is not Manreza’s first foray into entrepreneurship. She spent many years in the banking industry before retiring at 35 to start her own business. Now 39, she runs several successful businesses in the financial services sphere, all of which she founded herself. She also has other, more diverse ventures in the pipeline.
Despite her business expertise and experience, launching the brand was not without its challenges. “I’ve had people attacking my capabilities of running and owning Peligro because of how I cater to such a male-dominated market. They think I’m just a girl, that I’m just playing around.”
In less than a year, however, she had turned that perception around. “More people have been complimenting me on how I’ve managed it,” she said, laughing. “I’d like to think that there’s a charm to the contrast of where I’m at now.”
Of course, the challenge of running more than one successful business is not for the faint of heart, yet Manreza, with her unflagging energy and infectious laughter, makes it look so easy. “To keep my life balanced, I ride every weekend. I spend time with my kids, and I pamper myself by gifting myself with things I want,” she shared.
For Manreza, life is meant to be lived, leaps of faith are supposed to be taken, and roads should be travelled—preferably on a fast bike. The real danger lies in fear and being overcome by it. Whether it’s a long and exhilarating rip up the TCH or a guilt-free shopping session, Manreza believes that she deserves all the best things that life has to offer. “After all, we will all die,” she declared.