BEFORE TOMORROW COMES #WESTGATE

Before tomorrow comes, I want to know that I have lived to the best of my heart’s desire. I wish to have all that I can have every single day by the grace of God. I want to have a positive influence to most of the people I interact with. I wish to do good deeds and just be sufficiently selfish. I want to show gratitude and love to all who deserve.

The Westgate siege just took me back to the most horrific moment in my life and with certainty, I was reminded of the uncertainty of life – IT’S NOT A GUARANTEE. I am not looking at the whole thing as a terrorist attack, or a failure of a security system in a country that once prided itself in security. I am looking at that mum who went to do her grocery shopping at the Nakumatt store; I am looking at an uncle who went to get his medicine supplies at the Mimosa pharmacy; I am thinking about the hardworking lady who went to get her pedicure at Lynton’s Beauty world, I am thinking of a young career lady who was working on her next big project, I am looking at the kids who turned up for the cooking show and aspired to be chefs, I am seeing the lovebirds having a coffee at the artcaffe and others up at the cinema’s looking to see what movies they would watch, I am thinking of the single mother who took her son to the play area next to the food court where families gathered to have a nice Saturday lunch, I am thinking about the house-help who had a day off and went to the Barclays bank to deposit his/her savings, I am thinking of a kid who couldn’t wait to get his toys from the toy store next to the cinema, I am seeing all the employees who showed up to work like it was just any other day, I am thinking of all the business minded people who had set up stores in the Mall and possibly paid the up a hefty amount of money in goodwill and rent...

All these people had their lives going on like it’s any other day. They thought they would be home that evening, they made plans with their families; they laughed about sweet nothings and complained about whatever they could… They shopped for house supplies and brought their kids along for a good time. The teens came for frozen yoghurt and they were to post the photos on social media.

On that very day, I was baby-sitting my goddaughter less than a kilometer away.

Motivation often comes from a dark place and mine is coming from the sorrow that has finally hit home after the whole chaos. What happened to me before I could process the whole siege/takeover/hostage situation et cetera… was that I got phone calls from News agencies and bureaus to ask for TV crew and video equipment to start covering the Breaking news. I got in to work mode to the point that when I saw a close friend walk out of Westgate with her kids I had not clearly processed in mind what she had been through after 2 hours, which would definitely have seemed like a whole decade to her. And just as I had began to fathom what she could possibly have gone through, calls kept coming in from the TV crews to ask for this or that… to move them from point A to B, to help them get contacts, to make my way to the Oshwal Centre where all the journalists were to give them supplies. My Press Card allowed me access everywhere. The roads (to the mall, to the hospitals and the morgues) that had been blocked by different security agencies needed me to just flash my foreign correspondents press card and I was given way. I was glad for that because it meant access to my colleagues, but it also made me sad to see how easy it still was to move along. But I must give it up to the media council of Kenya, those Cards are not handed out to every Tom, Dick and Harry... So I rightfully deserved the accreditation.

My house is less than 800m from Westgate, I could hear all the gunshots and blasts, the helicopters patrolling the area all day and all night long. I actually woke up on Monday morning and thought the situation would have been curbed but nay… The helicopter flew so low at 6.30 am, I thought that it was about to crash in to my room! I zombied out with over 10 hours of work, my ears buzzed even when my phone was off, I kept refreshing my twitter handle, the Daily Mail, CNN, BBC, ABC – Australia, ABC-America, CBC, eNCA, the Independent, Reuters, AP and all the media websites I could think of. My fingers trembled every night before I went to bed. It’s so funny that now after reconciling the accounts and seeing the hours and days we actually worked, what seemed like a month has now been brought down to 8 days! Funny, isn’t it?

Moving on, as a person, I'd say live every day like it’s your last and make no mistake- it might actually be. Appreciate life, love truly and keep it real with yourself and your maker.

Sincerely,

Nekoye