It’s been years since I last wrote a blog post, and I
suppose that’s because after 3 and a half years of living in Nairobi has
become, well, routine. I finally bought a car last year, I have a core group
of girlfriends with whom I regularly grab dinner and drinks, and while I’ve
dropped off from some activities like ultimate frisbee and training for sprint
triathlons, I’ve picked up new hobbies like yoga and indoor rock climbing. The
rainy seasons have become unpredictable, but otherwise I pretty much always
know what to expect: traffic, sunrise at 6:30 am and sunset at 6:30 pm
regardless of the time of year, and wonderfully temperate weather nearly
year-round.
Then, on September 21, 2013, an unconfirmed number of Al-Shabab terrorists attacked Westgate Mall, killing at least 67 men, women, and children, and injuring over 100 others. A few people I know (including a young couple and their toddler) were in
the mall at the time of the attack and managed to escape, but my friend Ravi
was shot and killed in Nakumatt, the supermarket where I frequently did my
grocery shopping. This is the photo I emailed to my
parents when I first moved to Kenya in April 2010, as a shining example of how
developed, how “Westernized” Nairobi was:
How ironic that now Westgate Mall has become a symbol of fear, terror, and death. In the 3 weeks since the attacks, there still remain dozens of unanswered questions, not the least of which are “How many bodies were actually recovered (there are still about 40 people missing)?” and “Why haven’t we seen any proof that the attackers were actually captured or killed?” I question whether we will ever get these answers, or closure.
Nonetheless, we have gone ahead and celebrated the lives of
our lost friends and colleagues through memorials, and friends continue to
support and encourage the survivors who are still healing physically and
emotionally. Although we have not forgotten (or forgiven?), our lives
are slowly getting back to “normal” – we have gone back to work, returned to
restaurants and shopping malls we had been avoiding, started to joke and laugh
again. But I still shudder at the thought that I could have so easily been at
Westgate Mall that day, having brunch with my girlfriends, grocery shopping,
going to the movies, or doing something as mundane as getting cash from the
Barclay’s ATM. I have always tried to Carpe Diem, but I am reminded yet again
just how precious life is, and how I should never take it for granted.
I am in the middle of a 6-month soul-searching sabbatical to
figure out my next steps - namely whether
to make a career shift and whether or not to stay in East Africa. Naturally,
friends have asked me whether what happened at Westgate convinced me to move
back to the U.S. The truth is, a terrorist attack can happen anywhere – think about what has happened in New York
City, Washington, D.C., and Boston. For me, it’s not a question of where can I
maximize my personal safety, it’s where can I maximize my personal impact. Like
many idealistic globally-minded millenials, I moved to Africa hoping to “change the
world”. After four years of working for social enterprises whose missions are to
alleviate poverty through economic empowerment, I have become skeptical of
their ability to achieve scale, much less sustainability. Subsequently, I
have begun to question my own ability to create meaningful social
impact through this type of organization.
So I have decided that instead of striving to do “great”
things for which I will be recognized and lauded, as so many social
entrepreneurs are, I will be content to empower a few good men (and women) to
do a few good things. Maybe I will apply the lessons I’ve learned working in
Africa to mentor and coach local entrepreneurs and fellow “social intrapreneurs”.
Maybe I will become a teacher. I don't know. All I know is that however long I am on this
planet, I want to live a life driven by purpose and passion, spending my days
doing what I love, with people whom I love.
“Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter.” -Francis Chan
