It is a sad time for my nation and every time I try to watch news, I walk away with a downcast soul. Every page and every politician has a say on what should be done or ought to have been done and every Kenyan feels the loss and pain. The president even wrote letters to the families that lost their loved ones.
I would take this as a consolation but it isn’t. Every time the thought of young slain souls crosses in my mind, I remember the joy every parent must have felt when their kids received letters admitting their kids to a university. I can easily say being admitted to a university is joy to the whole family because I vividly remember how we reacted not long ago when my brothers were admitted to campus.
Some parents hold a thanksgiving ceremony just for that letter, others sacrifice all they got in their power just to send off their kids to school and I am sure Garissa parents are not different. The slain souls had done them proud and all they sought was to help them further their education and make a brighter future for themselves, their parents and the society at large. The pain of the parents is unfathomable. Part of their hearts died with their sons and daughters and the psychological damage done to them is beyond explanation. With the different burial ceremonies being carried out, a piece of the parents is lowered down with the casket and nothing will ever fill the void.
I can almost touch the pain of the people affected as they hope that their loved ones didn’t suffer much pain before they died, hoping that they were in shock rather than fear and praying that just before they died, they weren’t curled up in a corner praying for God to intervene.
It would be wrong to say I understand the pain of the sisters who lost brothers and brothers who lost sisters or girls who lost boyfriends and guys who lost girlfriends. For the latter lot, it’s even worse because they can’t stand up as family if the relationship was young and have to watch from afar as a person they shared much with is being given a final send off.
It is much hurt that one moment a person is full of life, hopes, expectations, plans and faith, just to have it snatched from them using a single bullet. My brain goes numb when I think that they may have begged for their lives, cried and hoped against hope that the rescue team would get to them just before the bullet got through them.
It is clear to me than ever that not all human beings are human and I hope that I will be able to view Muslims and the few Somalis in Kenya in the same light. I know most of them are clean and don’t condone terrorism, yet I can’t help give them a suspicious look every time they pass near me.
147 is so many lives to lose in just one planned attack. I don’t know if I will ever be able to stand up and say am safe especially with majority of these being women and the attack being in a public institution. It’s a pain, a loss and a dent to our trust in the system to protect us.
These are 147 candles that have been put off in a struggle to light up a society.
I wish I could take away pain, but then I can’t. My heart cries together with all families. I know that doesn’t help much but I still do and I hope with time, there will be at least a tiny bit of peace in their hearts and that they can laugh again with their hearts. I hope joy will find them one day and in their weakness they will find strength to even forgive so that they can live freely again.
Rest in peace dear comrades. The Lord giveth and what shall we say??
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