If only the clashes were a dream...

I had a terrible dream last night. I was in deep sleep when suddenly, I heard noises outside our home. Groggily, I woke up and tried to make out the nature of the noises. When I heard screams from my neighbours’, I sat up. Was this an incidence of domestic violence? Were my neighbours at it again? Should I get involved? I was too sleepy and I wanted to get back to sleep.

But as my body was about to hit the mattress, I heard gunshots. That got my attention. My eyes opened wide and my maternal instincts kicked in. I rushed out of bed and dashed to their little corner of the home where they slept.

As I fumbled through the house, it occurred to me that I was in a different type of house, not my usual stone house in Nairobi. I also realised something else – our house was on fire. I began to scream, calling out my husband’s name and crying for help. I couldn’t see much because of all the smoke. When the man of the house did not respond to my appeals for help, I began to panic.

Woke up

My screams woke up my children and they woke up slowly, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and without the foggiest idea of what was going on. “Mum, what is it?” My firstborn son, aged eight, asked.

I couldn’t control the panic in my voice. “Get out, get out!” I screamed. I reached out for my daughter and picked her up. She was only four years old and could, therefore, not move as fast.

As we ran out of the house, I saw from the corner of my eye that my son’s shirt had somehow caught fire. My heart almost stopped. I held him close, hoping my body would help put out the fire as we ran out.

The gunshots got louder and increased in number. They were too many! This was not accidental fire! We were under attack! And all my neighbours were running, screaming, panicked!

My next-door neighbour came out shouting, “Fire! Fire!” as she pointed at me. I couldn’t stop to look. I came to learn later that she was warning me that I was on fire. But I kept running, heading for the cluster of bushes and trenches that were on the northern side of the village. Everybody else seemed to be running in that direction. There was chaos and confusion. What was going on?

Ahead of me was one of my other neighbour. Her son loved to play with mine and we were good friends. Her son stopped to help her, crying hysterically, but a gun ripped through him and he fell on top of her. I kept running. Where was my husband and the father of my children?

Painful gasp

I was fast running out breath. Each intake of air was a painful gasp and I was fast getting tired carrying my two children (though I was dragging my son more than carrying him).

And as my strength ran out, through the haze, I saw bodies lying on our path. Their faces were twisted in pain, shock and horror. I knew them all! They were all my neighbours!

Then I saw my brother’s body. He was dead and he was lying next to his best friend. I felt all the energy drain from my body. It took a while for me to realise that those piercing screams I was hearing were coming from me.... and they got worse when I saw my husband’s body... dead... He too had been shot...

As I collapsed on top of him, screaming and crying, I noticed, in slow motion, that our entire village was on fire... as was my son and I. My precious little angel had passed out from all the smoke... I was obviously in hell...

I woke up from this nightmare with a startle. My heart was racing, like it was about to pump itself out of my body, which was wet with perspiration, perhaps from that imaginary running. And my daughter was looking at me weirdly, worried, wondering why I had been screaming in my sleep.

And that’s when I heaved a sigh of relief. It had all been a dream – a bad one at that.

Sadly, this is the reality for tens of people living in the Tana River Delta area and other villages where ethnic tensions are high. It is extremely unfair for a section of Kenyans to constantly live in fear of conflict and death, where insecurity marks their daily lives.

Our new Constitution guarantees security to all Kenyans, including those living in remote villages. It is our right and the Government has the duty to ensure the security of all Kenyans, giving it as much attention as it does to their salaries and other comforts, including the new physical status of Parliament.