If there is a god then the speck of dust on his eye that is Nairobi must have gotten too big. This morning he blinked.

A product of the nineties, my fondest memories of my childhood include sneaking out of home to watch Bruce Lee and Jean-Claude van Damme movies at the neighbors. We were enchanted by violence.

Today, as news of this morning's bombing in the central business district unravels, though alarmingly inaccurate, I find I no longer have a stomach for violence. I feel like I’ve been trying to drink the sea. It is simply too much.

The tightrope that this city has been walking on for weeks finally snapped and in its wake we are left breathless with excitement. We are excited because something finally happened in this god forsaken city and we all could have been a part of it. Rushing out of home today, leaving my little sister to fend for herself, I was gripped by a need to be part of the action. Furnished with the morbid curiosity that afflicts many Kenyans and the desire to “be with my people in a time of need” I headed to town.

Fifteen minutes later I realized what “the action” might consist of. A real live bomb far removed from the drama of any movie or trashy novel. Images of little Chinese soldiers fighting to defend Maoist China from evil American spies were traded for a reality of death, tears and shock. One pint of blood later, having fulfilled my duty as a good citizen, I find I am tired enough to be rational. Everyone who was at that bus stop this morning has a family and friends. They have colleagues and customers who might be wondering at this moment if they are alive.

Last week I annoyed the wits off of the security guard at the Ambassador Hotel. He was trying to explain to me that they had a no loitering policy as I chatted away on my mobile phone. I must have rolled my eyes at him. I wonder how he is today. I also wonder who that suicide bomber was, and why he turned out so fundamentally different from me that he could think to kill himself and all those people simply trying to get on a bus. I didn’t grow up to be a Kung Foo fighter. And I am not in the least disappointed.

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written by aeichener , June 11, 2007

Whoever L.A.P. may be, sie is indeed a brilliant writer. Concise, poignant, compelling. Chapeau!

A.

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sad indeed
written by Dave Nyambati , June 12, 2007

Violence does not right wrongs and it does not solve arguments, it only begets more violence. There is no excuse that would justify targeting and killing innocent people. We must all learn to fight our battles with words and expression rather than pangas, bullets and bombs.

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written by Marangu , June 12, 2007

Like Alex, I admire the elegance of language use in this piece, and absolutley share the sentiment. Well done papakemus.

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CONFUSING
written by Lynda , June 12, 2007

Why would anyone want to detonate a bomb in Kenya?And at ambassadeur? Where only Kenyans could get hurt?Does Kenya have enemies? If not, how many times should we pay for sins that arent our own? It is a scary thing to be in Kenya. If the Matheri's dont get you, mungiki will, if mungiki does not get you, the police will and if the police dont get you...well, there's the road accident, floods, collapsing walls, highway robbers,rift valley fever...and now you have suicide bombers to think of as well.

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:-)
written by papakemus , June 14, 2007

Gratias all.

p.s went round to check on that security guard. hes fine. hes still yelling at me though.

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