More than a Mall, a Microcosm – What the Westgate Attacks Showed Us

“Though I can’t imagine you hanging out at a mall, please let me know if you are ok.”

Thus started a message among the many we received from friends and family concerning the horrific terrorist attack on the Westgate Mall here in Nairobi.

Luckily, we were not at Westgate on that ill-fated Saturday (September 21). We were spared  the terrible deaths and drama caused by a carefully planned terrorist attack that would last more than 72 hours.

We weren’t even in Nairobi.

We were out of town, in the Maasai Mara reserve. We were on a safari trip planned well in advance to celebrate the visit of our older son. Far from the gunshots and grenades, we were watching migrating wildebeests, lolling lions, and an elusive black rhino. We were in the savannah and off the grid.  It was not until evening that we heard the news.

But as was the case for many other people, the Westgate attacks did hit close to home.

Westgate is a 10-minute drive from our house. It’s where I used to go 3-5 times a week to buy groceries, get cash from the ATM, and have the occasional pedicure. If I look around our house, it’s full of stuff purchased in one Westgate store or another. It’s also the place we went for an easy meal out or to catch a movie. We were there for lunch just two days before the attack.

While my friend was right to note that I’m not normally a mall crawler, the whole context and meaning of shopping malls is very different here compared to Europe, the US, or even Latin America. In Nairobi, and all over Africa generally, malls are not just places to shop. They are where people of all different backgrounds and economic levels go to meet and browse. Malls offer an environment that is clean, accessible, attractive - and normally, very safe. 

The international media has repeatedly referred to Westgate as an “upscale” place filled with “rich” Kenyans and diplomats.

But that gives a false impression.  

Sure, you could find a pair of Nikes, eat sushi, or go into a casino that smelled of stale smoke at Westgate. But there was no Armani, Louis Vuitton, or even Benneton to be found. The more common brand names were Bata shoes, Mr. Price pillows, and Nakumatt groceries.

Going to Westgate was akin to going downtown or to a pedestrian shopping district.  It was open to anyone, including people with little money but a desire to have a chat or inexpensive cup of tea in a pleasant place.   

And as the pictures of victims and fleeing escapees depicted, Westgate presented a microcosm of the rich cultural, economic, racial, and religious diversity of Kenya.

Though politicians have played on tribal tensions in the past, mostly associated with land disputes, Kenya is in many ways a remarkably tolerant melting pot. The landscape of Nairobi is dotted with churches, mosques, and temples of different types. Styles of dress range from turbans to tank tops, saris to business suits, and t-shirts to chadors. Dozens of different languages are spoken, though you can get by many places with either of the two official languages, English and Kiswahili.

This is not to say that everyone gets along all the time.

But if the terrorist attacks have done one thing, it has been to unify the people of Kenya. “We are one” is the new slogan and resilience the new mantra.

There are countless examples of how that’s been put into practice. Thousands of people of all walks and types lined up to donate blood for the attack victims, not only in Nairobi, but all over the country.  Girls from one school I know of, many of them orphans and all of them quite poor, collected nearly $2,000 worth of coins to send to the Red Cross relief efforts. Individuals of every stripe helped others to escape the mall during the standoff. From the national to the most private levels, the color of mourning has been as varied as the rainbow of inhabitants who populate this city.

There are countless stories of heartbreak and heroism to have emerged from the Westgate attack. But one that I find especially emblematic was told to me by a friend. She described how her au-pair was trapped in the Nakumatt supermarket during the first hours of the attack. Recently arrived from England and in her early 20s, she took refuge along with many others in a back storage room. There she ended up next to a young Kenyan woman of a similar age, wearing a headscarf. They chatted to give each other courage. When volunteer rescuers came to help them escape hours later, they ran out of the building together -  hand in hand. 

Strangers helping strangers to escape to safety. Photo: Reuters/Goran Tomasevic