Haunted by memory of man shot in head before his eyes

Francis Mutinda displays an X-ray image of his limbs that suffered injuries after a grenade was thrown by a terrorist at Westgate mall. [PHOTO: PAUL WAFULA/ STANDARD]

Nairobi, Kenya: Francis Mutinda asked a customer lying next to him on the second floor of the besieged Westgate mall to check whether the terrorists were gone.

The man, whom he had never met before, was shot dead after a bullet hit his head as he tried to peep.

Now Mutinda has to live with it.

It was just an ordinary Saturday morning for the 24-year-old as he left his home in Nairobi’s Huruma estate for work. Mutinda was marking three years as an employee of Nakumatt at the Westgate mall.

He arrived a few minutes to 8am as he had done without fail since September 2010. He changed into his uniform, a T-shirt that would later help differentiate him from the terrorists and allow rescue workers to spot him.

He reported to his work station, the toy section, on second floor.

“I was handling toys, games, books and some electronics,” he says.

The parking lot, where children were attending a cooking class, was just next to his station. He says if he listened keenly, he would have heard what the teacher was telling her pupils. But he had a job to do, so he began attending to a couple of clients inquiring about toys. There were not many customers at this hour, just a handful.

At about 10am he joined his colleagues for tea.

His three hour nightmare would not begin until some minutes to 1pm.

“I heard a loud blast from outside. At first I thought it was a tire burst since there was a parking lot on my floor. But then there was a second blast and this time round it was much closer,” he recalls.

That was when the mall was thrown into mayhem. People were running back into the mall, some screaming and shouting that thugs were attacking.

He ran to the grill to look downstairs to see what was going on.

“I saw people running. Some who tried to escape met the terrorists at the entrance and they scattered, retreating backwards into the mall,” he says.

That was when Mutinda saw the first of the attackers-a man wearing a huge mask with a magazine of bullets around his chest, and a machine gun in hand firing indiscriminately.

The second blast went off just next to his station. Customers driving out started reversing into the car park.

 

Francis followed some colleagues, who were trying to escape through a hidden exit at the parking lot.

“There was a small door at the parking lot leading to the section where the backup generator is kept. But there was a grill and it was impossible to pass through it unless we climbed over it,” he says.

A few lucky employees jumped over the grill to safety. But when it was his turn, the attackers noticed the escape route.

As he was halfway over the grill, one of the attackers hurled a grenade.

The grenade hit the grill and exploded a few metres from him. The impact brought him tumbling down to his knees. He did not notice he had been hit, not even that blood oozed from his injuries. He felt no pain.

All he remembers was that everyone was already on the floor, dead, bleeding to death or pretending to be dead. He was the last one to come down to the floor to join the still bodies.

On the floor, he felt his legs become numb. He looked around and saw the gunman, who was holding another grenade in hand, inside the parking lot still shooting at people.

“Save for the children who were screaming and wondering what was going on, all the adults were quiet. Only the sound of gunshots and children’s screams could be heard. A kid who was walking around was shot dead in front of my eyes. It was real terror,” he recalls.

SINGLED OUT

The terrorist was throwing grenades at crowds of people, and shooting those who were still alive. He was walking towards him, stepping on people.

“I remember asking a customer to check if the attacker was still there. But as he lifted his head, he became visible and was shot in the head. His blood splashed on my face. It was terrifying,” he says.

That was not all. He was still bleeding from his left hand and was covered in blood. “It was as if the terrorist had singled me out for trying to escape. So he came towards me, stepped on my ribs as if to find out if I was truly dead. He was wearing brown open shoes,” he says.

At this time he was praying. “I told God, if this is my time, let me come to you. But if it is not, get me out of here,” he recalls.

Having concluded Mutinda was dead the gunman continued with his shooting spree, but kept his leg on him a while longer.

“Bullets were flying all over me, used cartridges falling around me as I pretended to be dead. He then left the parking lot and entered the shopping mall.” When he left, those still alive woke up and started escaping. He could not stand, so he dragged himself on his stomach to the edge of the floor. Once there, he rolled himself down and fell on a flower bed on the ground floor from the second floor. He found three people, one already dead and  two seriously injured.

 

“We were all helpless. I continued dragging myself on the ground for another 10m or so. That is when I raised my hand and was spotted by my colleagues,” he says and was rushed to hospital.

At MP Shah Hospital, he discovered that the grenade had lodged nine particles in his limbs. Particles he monitors every day, praying they dislodge and can be operated upon.

“I have been advised that I risk being paralysed if I remove them. So now I’m just waiting for them to come close to the skin before they can be removed,” he says.

One year after the horrendous attack, he is still struggling to pick up the pieces. He walks with a slight limp. He still gets startled by memories of the blast. But the bad dreams are going away.

He has since been moved to Nakumatt Moi Avenue branch.