Vulnerability and Security

These past few days have been rough going.  So far, the only person we really *know* who has been injured in the Westgate attack is a New Zealander that we met on our Masai Mara trip.  He was shot in the back, but thankfully the shooters missed his spine and vital organs.  I’m told that he’s in surgery today to remove bullet fragments near his heart, but that his prognosis is good.  We have reached out to his wife. 

I am having flashbacks to when I lived in Israel in the fall of 2000.  I was living blissfully on a kibbutz, harvesting sunflower seeds.  I was working hard, getting fit, getting a tan, and meeting boys.  Not bad.  But that moment didn’t last long.  By October, the second intifada had erupted and there was violence nearby.  We were told not to leave the kibbutz.  Apache fighter helicopters flew ominously overhead.  The volunteers sat around, eating humus, glued to the BBC station in our common house watching soldiers being lynched on repeat.  I was so young, so naive.  I had no idea – really – of what was going on.  I was scared and clueless.

This afternoon we turned on our TV to see the smoke billowing out of the Westgate mall.  Apparently, this standoff has taken longer than expected and, even though Kenyan officials are assuring the public that everything is under control, no one really believes them.  DW came home from work early.  I canceled a doctor’s appointment for J.  It just doesn’t make sense to go out on the roads today.

For better or worse, the whole idea of being secure is an illusion. We make ourselves feel better by putting up walls and gates and guards and systems. We reassure ourselves of our invincibility.  We plan for tomorrow.  But we are raw, vulnerable, flesh and blood beings.  It doesn’t take much to damage our bodies or our psyches. 

This attack feels real to us despite the fact that we aren’t in the vicinity of the mall because people like us were the targets.  The attackers meant to punish Kenya by terrifying those with wealth, those who enrich the country.  Even though we weren’t at the Westgate Mall on Sat, we could have been there, sipping a latte when the gunmen threw grenades and shot innocents indiscriminately.  The veil of safety has been lifted and we are confronted with our vulnerability.  It isn’t pretty.