Hi. I hope you’ve been well. Please note that this might be a long read.
We’ve all grown up with stories about August 7th, and how chaotic and traumatic it was for everyone within and outside Nairobi. My curiosity was spiked for so many years, I wanted to simply know more about what occurred on that day.
I spared a few hours (yesterday) and decided to visit the August 7th Memorial Peace Museum, popularly known as Bomb-blast. I have been to the memorial garden on countless occasions, which by the way, is a perfect place to just chill, unwind, reflect, pray, and tag along with a friend or two.
Being here sets off so many emotions, even at the entrance gate, where I pay, and ask the guard for directions to the Museum. The Memorial peace Museum is within the Memorial park, it has an exhibition, and a memorial room and offers conference facilities.
Once inside, I find a jovial man at the front desk who jokes and asks “Kenya kuko aje. Unajua huku tuko America, huskii ata hewa ni tofauti?” (How is Kenya?). I proceed to pay, and he tells me I can take photos, not videos. He guides me through what to expect and gives a little backgrounder to what happened.
The East African Kanga/leso is a source of pride, rich in history and meaning. They are known for messages written at their lower helm. Mostly they’re proverbs written in the Swahili language.
This black bench is the first item you notice upon entrance to the museum. Its upper part is made from Kangas with different messages on it. The meaning of each message is explained as you go round the museum.
After the bench, is a wall of all the nations that have been affected by terrorism. My guide tells me it’s to remind us that we can all face terrorism, we can all face wars, and violence; that it reminds us of the people we’ve lost to these.
The Memorial room comes after this wall. No photography is allowed inside. The room has the names of the victims of the attack.
219 names. 219 lives. Husbands, wives, dads, brothers, sisters, daughters and sons…. There’s a Kenyan flag for each of the 219 lives that were lost, as well as a shelf that holds objects obtained from the scene. Objects that once belonged to the victims. What’s still on my mind is a pair of gloves, a briefcase that has bloodied documents in it, and a tie.
Alongside the items, are words from the families of the victims. Reading these words makes everything surreal, enough to bring tears to your eyes. It’s stories of husbands as told by their wives, mothers about their children, and vice versa.
There’s an exhibition that recounts every step of the story. A narration, photos of the event, and vivid images of the victims. Everything just screams pain, chaos, and trauma.
Away from any noise, any distractions, it’s just you, and stories of what happened, it honestly brings you to tears. There’s just this ambiance…..
Did you know, the then security guard, Joash Okindo, saved more lives by delaying the bombers at the gate?
The stories talk about how Kenyans dug through the rubble with their bare hands to rescue the injured, how victims jumped from top floors hoping to save their lives, how men walked around in vests and trousers simply because they tore their shirts to prevent the victims from bleeding excessively, how the request for blood donations was so overwhelming that all city blood banks were full within 24 hours……..
