Westgate Tragedy

Saturday, September 21. 

I reached for my ringing phone noting Katie’s name as I pressed the answer button.  Before I could say a word, her panicked voice broke through, “Mom, I just got a call from Em!  G and his family are in Westgate mall.  There are terrorists there who have attacked the mall and I can’t reach him.”  Sitting at Rift Valley Academy (RVA) next to Rick and a good friend, this was not in the realm of anything we anticipated for our rare quiet Saturday afternoon. 

Minutes later my phone rang again and Katie, slightly relieved, related that G and his dad, Chris, were in hiding but they didn’t know if his mom, Jamie, and their 4 younger children were alive.  God have mercy on our friends.  

What do we do in a time like this?  PRAY!

So we prayed… We prayed a prayer that for us began with three of us sitting on the RVA bleachers and continued for more than 5 hours.  Spreading not only to all of the RVA campus, this prayer had already begun reaching around the world as people from every political, racial and economic background joined together seeking help from God Almighty.

Below is an account from our friends who survived this attack.  Chris and Jamie Suel are missionaries to college students in Nairobi.  They have 5 children -  bookend boys and three girls in-between.  This story is being shared with their permission.  I have added some of our experiences during the day within the same time frame.

On Saturday, September 21, 2013, we went shopping to buy or son G, a suit for school.  We decided to go to Westgate Mall as it has several clothing stores.  We don’t usually choose Westgate because it’s not very close to our house, but we did that day. 

We arrived at Westgate at 12:26 (according to our parking ticket) and were so hungry we decided to grab something to eat first.  Usually we would go to Java House (located right inside the mall on the roof parking level) or Art Cafe (lower, street level/ open balcony) but on Saturday we decided on Urban Gourmet, a newer burger place (located at mall entrance, street level) that we had never tried.

Chris and G decided to step into the suit store, on the second level, to get some pricing on our way to the bottom floor where the restaurant is located. We know how long restaurants can take here, so Jamie took the 4 little kids down to get seating.  As they were about to round the corner to the main mall entrance/exit (where the restaurant is located) we heard two loud bangs followed by lots of gunfire.  Jamie grabbed Z’s hand and they began to run.  Jamie’s first thought was to run into a store and seek shelter but the kids were ahead of her following the crowd so they ran with the crowd.  Z tripped and fell flat.  Jamie picked him up and they began to run again.  They made their way to the opposite corner of the mall and out a service entrance into a storage room for the supermarket, Nakumatt.  All of the little kids were with her.  Many people were gathered in the area kind of wondering where to go and then we heard more gunfire, closer.  Everyone then ran deeper into the loading area.  A Kenyan man picked Z up and ran with him into the area.  Jamie and the kids went behind several pallets of flour and hunkered down.  They put bundles of toilet paper around them to hide themselves more and began praying for protection.  I remember thinking on the way in that the flour would be good/ protective from bullets.  There was an older Indian woman who helped hide us and was very instructive and comforting in a peaceful way.  She was a gift from God.  There were 2 boys next to us without their parents.  We put bundles of toilet paper on the side where they could have been seen and I told them to keep their heads down and keep quiet and pray.

As Chris and G were looking in the suit store, they heard the two loud booms (grenades) followed by the gunshots.  Chris immediately recognized the sounds as guns.  He also was able to hear that it was coming from the main entrance where he knew his wife and 4 younger children were supposed to be getting a table for lunch at the restaurant.

Chris and G immediately left the store and started down the escalator to the first floor to try to find the rest of his family but had to turn back due to bullets hitting the escalator and ricocheting everywhere.

Chris and G turned and ran back towards the suit store, telling people who were flat on their faces in fear to get up and get inside stores.  The suit store, had now shut its doors and was locked.  They begged to be let back in and were allowed to hide inside.

For about 5 terrifying minutes Chris was unable to reach Jamie by phone and did not know if his family had survived the initial attack.  The gunshots continued non-stop for more that 10 minutes. 

Finally Chris was able to reach Jamie and learned she and the others had found a place to hide.  He then began to tweet and call people to let them know what was happening and to get people to start praying for everyone’s safety and not to come near the mall.

For the next 5 hours grenades and gunshots could be heard from time to time.  We also were getting phone calls telling us that it was a terrorist attack and terrorist were pretending to be police to lure people from their hiding spots.

After a while, some men identifying themselves as police started yelling that it was ok, it was clear, come out, it is ok.  Jamie didn’t trust it at all.  She called Chris and while many people left, Chris told Jamie that it was not safe and she should not leave.  After hanging up she heard a barrage of gunfire coming from the area where the people just were. She prayed God would put a protective bubble around her and her kids so they would not be seen or heard by people who wanted to harm them.  She is not sure what happened to those who left at that time.

Jamie and the little kids stayed hidden for hours.  The kids were scared, but they were AMAZING.  We are so proud and thankful.  We kept getting texts saying people were praying. 

It was hours.  Leg cramps. Exhaustion. Kids needed to use the restroom. Shots.  Grenade sounding things. Machine guns. Helicopters. 

Later, another group of rescuers came near Jamie and the kids.  Jamie didn’t see them, but they seemed calmer than others who she had heard previously. They left.  It just sounded different.  She called Chris and he told her if she had an opportunity she and the others should go.  He advised her to cautiously check and leave if they could as some evacuations were going on.  She told the kids to stay put and quiet.  She snuck out and peeked her head around to see the outside.  No bodies, clear path, trucks lined up one after another near a courtyard exit.  She went back and told the now six kids they were going to go.  They walked to the exit, prayed, Jamie gave instructions to keep their heads down, stay close together, stay behind each other, and remain close to the vehicles.  They ran behind the first truck, looked out, up, and around- clear, next truck, same thing, until they reached the final, smaller truck.  At this point, she saw people at the delivery entrance and waved frantically to get their attention.  Eventually, some men saw them and came and circled around them and they made our way out the gate, up the street, to safety.  There was a man there who knew the two boys and said their mother was still alive and that everyone was meeting at a local coffee shop and they were to go there to wait for her.  The boys went with him.

Chris had told Jamie to go to a friend’s house if they were able to get out. Jamie headed to where a friend were waiting at the top of the street .  Seeing him was an instant release of emotion.  “He gathered up my kids and hugged them.  Then he hugged me and I cried.  Seeing the wife, I cried again as she hugged us and they led us to her home.  Our LC met us at the house and it was an emotional time of exchanging information and relief.  The kids went to the bathroom, got cookies and water, and then they took us further away to another home where some of our member care group live. 

This was about 3:30

(G, still in hiding, passed the news along to us that his mom and sibs were safe.  What an unbelievable sense of relief.  We even saw a picture of Jamie and six children on the news coming out of the building.  Later we learned who the two boys were that God brought to her.  We were extremely relieved that they were out. 

However, it was at this point that the news began reporting that the terrorists were systematically going from store to store clearing out people.  They were allowing Muslims dressed in hijab to go free and were shooting all other people.  A fresh wave of panic overtook us. We were desperately worried knowing that it would only be a matter of time before G and his dad were found in hiding.  We all gathered in the home of a friend and waited and prayed together.)

Chris and G were still stuck on the second floor in the suit store. There was almost no movement outside the suit store but the crashes, sirens, gunshots and screams could be heard off and on the entire time.  The only movement Chris saw was when two of the terrorists casually walk by the glass window of the store peering in.  It was a miracle, but they did not see Chris or the others hiding inside and they continued on past not to be seen again.

Chris and G were in the store with 5 other people including the owners.  The owners managed to contact a mall security person that directed the police to their location.  After five hours of hiding in the store, they were evacuated and escorted out of the mall to the roof.  During the evacuation, the gunfire escalated again and they ran with their heads down until they were clear of the danger.  25 minutes later, Chris and G were reunited with the rest of the family at a friend’s house. 

(Around 5:20pm, Katie got a call from G.  “My dad and I are out!”  She had gone outside the house to receive the call and ran into the room full of people yelling this miraculous news.  The room erupted with cheers and tears of joy!  Thank you God for considering our friends and for rescuing them!  We are so grateful!)

Our kids amazed us.  G was completely concerned for his mom and younger siblings. J was so tender and loving.  A took care of Z.  E was so uncomfortable but so cooperative.  Jamie felt sick.  Shots sounded so close sometimes. 

Afterward the US embassy called to check on us.  FB prayer network was amazing!  So many were praying and thankful that God answered their prayers! 

He led us, He kept us together, and He protected us.  We were in the Shelter of the Most High.

We went home and watched movies and Duck Dynasty.  Some of us ate others still didn’t want to.  G made cookies.  We just were together.  We occasionally stopped the movie to talk and be thankful for God’s protection and to pray for those who were still trapped.

At one point during our hiding we quietly recounted how God had protected us:

·      We did NOT round the corner to the front entrance where the gunmen came in.

·      We stayed together.

·      My iPhone allowed us to communicate with Chris (regular phones weren’t working).

·      We were behind a beautiful barricade.  I thought to myself, “The name of the Lord is a strong tower, the righteous run into it and they are saved.”  That day God’s name was “Unga and Toilet paper”.

Later on I added to the list:

·      Jesus is our Prince of Peace.  We had been protected by our PRINCE OF PEACE

·      We had been protected from flying bullets/ being trampled

·      A man picked up Z and carried him

·      The Indian woman who was with us behind the flour in the first bit of hiding, she was a comforting presence.

·      We were not seen.

·      We got out!  All of us!

·      Gavin chose not to go to the bathroom when we walked into the mall (he would have been separated from Chris).

·      We arrived at the mall at the exact moment where we were not at the top entrance or seated at the restaurant.  Both of these areas were the entry points for the terrorists.  Seconds counted.

·      The younger kids and I didn’t see the terrorist’s faces or any bodies.

·      It could have been SO MUCH WORSE.

Verses and thoughts that have helped:

During:

Proverbs 18:10 The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe.

Right after:

Psalm 46:1

God is our Refuge and Strength, a very present help in trouble.

Admittedly, it has not been easy to process this.  Many people don’t have the same story and several of our friends have lost loved ones. Things continued to drag out over the better part of a week and the images we saw were disturbing, especially as a few of them included people we are connected to.  Our thoughts have been distracted and it has weighed heavily on our hearts. We are so grateful but also affected emotionally.  We are clinging to God’s promises in scripture and are working to “renew our minds” with His truth. We appreciate your prayers for our friends, for the many people who have been impacted by this, and for our family as well.    

The Suel Family at a pirate party.

Candlelight prayer vigils were held around Kenya

Thousands lined up for hours to donate blood

Some differences between the US and Kenya

We have arrived back in Kenya after a wonderful visit to the United States!  We thoroughly enjoyed reconnecting with friends and family and getting to spend time planning for the future face-to-face with Oasis staff members planning for the future.  Each time we visit, we are also struck by the differences between Kenya and the U.S. and that is the focus of our letter this month. 

Oasis Get Together 

The first difference is the presence of old friends and family.  Though many have come to visit us in Kenya, we miss the day-to-day interactions with our former small group, neighbors, church friends, Oasis friends, and our amazing families.  While our previous visits were in the winter, summer has lent itself to building lasting memories with many of these precious people! We wish we had time to see everyone but as they say in Kenya, next time.

Rick's side of the family

Ann's side of the family

Second is food!  It took us a week or so to re-acclimate to the rich American diet but we pushed through the discomfort and forced down deep dish pizza, fast-food anything, ice cream, grapes, blueberries, and of course slushies! In addition, we found clean water from the tap remarkable and ingenious.

One of our awesome host friends/families!

Visiting colleges with good friends!

Water-skiing with the cousins

Fun in Lake Geneva with great friends!

The last difference is the contrast between being supported and being a supporter. When we visit the US, we are often among the financially neediest people in the room.  Recognizing this, so many of you generously provided us with food, gave us bags full of clothes for our children, planned entertainment opportunities and provided lodging for us.  Words cannot express our gratitude to you for your generosity.  We felt beyond blessed every day and appreciate your support in physical, spiritual, and emotional ways.  As soon as we stepped foot in Kenya this shifted 180 degrees for us and we felt the burden of being the supporters again.  After leaving the airport, we didn’t even reach home from the airport without receiving phone calls from seven different people needing help. This is not easy for us.  It goes against our cultural bent and leaves a constant pressure to discern God’s voice in saying yes or no. Though it can be wearying, this is part of why we are here, to meet the needs that God brings into our paths every day.

Thank you to all of you for your support and encouragement.   We love you and look forward to the next time we can see you face to face. 

Other differences:                                                                                 

Cost of 1 lb of grapes in the US: $2.99          Cost of 1 lb of grapes in Kenya: $10.00 
Cost of a dozen roses in the US: $25.00       Cost of 20 roses in Kenya: $2.40           

Average income in the US: $200/day           Average income in Kenya: $2.00/day  

Cost of 1 lb of coffee: $12.00                          Cost of 1 lb of coffee: $9.00                    

High school fees in the US: $250                   High school fees in Kenya: $1400.00    

Faith and Mother's Day 2013

Tumultuous emotions seem to reign in my heart since we moved to Kenya; the last several months have been no exception.  We regularly experience astounding miracles that cause my heart to soar and send me to my knees in worship, renewing my strength and my faith, but these are mingled with discouragement and sadness that weigh on my heart like a stone. 

I’ve thought a lot about faith lately.  I’m studying the book of James through a Beth Moore study and have learned a lot about the man, James, and have been convicted about faith in action.  James was the first leader of the Jewish Christians and a pillar in the new church.  He grew up literally sleeping next to the Messiah and completely missed Jesus’ intended purpose until He rose from the dead and confronted James face to face.  Yes, James had grown up with devout faith - anchored in a fabricated messiah, until God shifted his paradigm with the truth about The Messiah and rocked his faith to the core.  James was a man in process, a man we can all relate to, who talked about the multi-faceted elements of faith with a depth of personal experience that beckons us to listen and to be inspired into action.

Simultaneously, I’ve been thinking about another Faith.  Sweet, disenchanted Faith, is one of our Hill   neighbor’s distantly related niece of sorts. With a name like that, she’s either going to inspire or make one consider whether to question having faith in her.  Unfortunately, so far, she’s chosen the latter as her mantra. She’s caught in the cycle of poverty, unknowingly perpetuating it herself with her poor choices.  Pregnant at 17 by a married man who promised her love, she now nurses a precious baby girl and wonders about true love and whether love is really true.  She’s unable to go back to school because, who in their right mind in this community would help when “she chose this road and now she must walk down it.”  Meanwhile, alone, abused and neglected, she is sent away from her so-called home with her small child.  She is searching for something – anything - to put her faith in. 

I’m overcome by sadness at the hopelessness that plagues her and countless other young girls as they search for love in all the wrong places. “I love you Faith.  I love you with all my heart.  I desperately want you to know true, unconditional love,“ both God and I yell loudly, but seemingly not loudly enough for her to hear.

Then, out of the blue, Faith (the girl and the concept) calls me on the phone, as if questioning my own. 

“Can you help me?” 

“What do you need, Faith?” 

“I need some soap and diapers for the baby.” 

Soap and diapers?  Is that what faith is looking for today…soap and diapers? I can do that. 

“What else?”  I silently scream in my mind, “How about a life? A Future?  Hope? True Love?”

And I start to wonder, if faith inspires action, what action will inspire this Faith?

We finish talking and I hang up the phone and pray,  “Help my Faith God.  Help me discern what You’re doing.”

The answer slowly unfolds over time.  Through an implausible web of relationships, a Mama on the other side of Kenya, who has never met Faith but who lives by her name, hears her story.  She approaches me and, as if speaking with the voice of God, asks me where my sweet Faith is... the Faith I love and wrestle over.  Mama has an idea.  What if she helps with the baby so Faith can flourish in the love of her home, go to trade school, and reclaim the intended purpose of her name? 

Though challenged and thwarted on many levels, as faith often is, God eventually brought Faith to Kijabe. This week on Mother’s day, I had the chance to sit with Faith for several hours on my back porch.  She’s been here for many weeks, but it was the first opportunity I've had to spend time with her.  She poured out her heart, speaking of rejection, abuse, beatings, and her search for love.  She is still disillusioned in many respects, but, remarkably, she still has hope and is still searching for her significance.  I pray she will find it in Jesus alone and that through Him she will live up to the high calling of her name. 

Just like James in the Bible, my faith and Faith are in process.  Faith’s future depends on trusting God, good choices, consistent action, and steady progress forward even when things are difficult.  So does mine.  

Kijabe Mudslides

On Friday evening we had some friends over for a game night.  About 7 pm, it started raining... hard.  The rain increased in intensity and about 11 pm our friends (who live 5 houses away) had to be driven home as the rain was so intense.  Everyone had water coming into their houses as the rain was driving sideways and under the roof caps.

The rain persisted all night and we awoke to the news that 3 of the 4 roads out of Kijabe were closed due to several mudslides that had devastated the area.  Some of you live in areas where mudslides are common but we have never seen anything like this before.  Several people's homes washed away during the night.  Many people had homes full of mud and/or water.  One family lost 3 children when their home washed away.  Please pray for them.

Here are some photos:





Many of you know the tunnel that the railroad track runs across to get to Kijabe from Nairobi. It's a tall tunnel - at least 18 feet high. It was blocked with mud and trees everything was flowing over the top.  This is the top of the tunnel.

Here's the tunnel from the Kijabe side blocked by mud and trees and filled halfway up with mud.

Clearing the tunnel.  

View from standing on top of the bridge.

DEEP Mud!

This is the mudslide area that washed down and filled the tunnel.  You can see the large portion of land that washed away.  You can also see Rick, Caleb and Rachel standing on the top of the bridge at the right watching them clear the road.

Here is the road coming from the top, the tunnel is just ahead around the corner.  Water continued to flow down this all day.  The guys here were trying to divert the flow into the valley.

That is one of the water pipes that brings water to Kijabe.  Despite the abundance of rain, we have a water shortage.  

Here is another extensive mud slide just outside the Rift Valley Academy upper gate.  There used to be a security fence across this which washed down the road along with several large trees and boulders.  

Higher up on the RVA mudslide.  

This is what the road looked like on our drive home.  We were thankful for four wheel drive.  

A smaller mudslide across the tracks. Caleb enjoyed the mud with one of his best buddies.

Ostrich Riding

Did you know there are ostrich saddles?  Well there are.  As comfortable as a horse’s saddle is, they have not yet perfected the same level of comfort for an ostrich saddle, maybe because ostriches are not meant to be ridden. 

Before Mallory left Kenya last year we wanted to do something special together with her that “you can only do in Kenya.”  Besides it was Rachel’s birthday and she’s the creative and fun one in our family so planning a ridiculous and crazy event served a double purpose.

We heard about the Maasai Ostrich Park on the south side of Nairobi that features ostrich riding.  This sounded ridiculous, crazy and special.  I’m not sure if you can only ostrich ride in Kenya, but it fit 3 of our 4 criteria for the day.  We all gathered around the computer to research ostrich riding on the Internet. I curiously noted the advertisement for “Travel Insurance” flashing on the left side of the screen, as the page slowly loaded.  This was my first indication that what we might be heading into was definitely questionable and possibly dangerous. I’m pretty sure Caleb squealed once or twice with delight.

The following advertisement (I’ll call it a disclaimer) came up, further cautioning some of us while thrilling others.   

Masai Ostrich Park Nairobi Ostrich Ride Ostriches are very strong birds, one ostrich has to be held by two attendants before anyone can mount them. The attendants then control the bird during the ride. The experience is more frightening than it is enjoyable. Sometimes the ostrich moves so fast making even a confident man terrified in case it throws him off and starts kicking. Ostriches have the reputation of strong heavy kicks that can kill a Lion. Wild predators have died after falling victim to their infamous kicks. The mortality rate of ostriches is heightened by the fact they tend to eat anything, including picking on each other’s feathers. When they eat indigestive materials, their stomachs hurt and start rotting, this prevents them from eating again. Eventually, they die. I guess that is why they are referred to as daft, what with the proverb; ‘don’t sink your head in the sand like an ostrich’.

I’m not sure if the part about ostriches swallowing “indigestive materials” was to be an encouragement to bring something indigestible in case you were thrown off to present as a peace offering in place of being kicked or if it was just informational.  I’m also not sure what mother in their right mind would let their family participate in this activity after reading this, but clearly I was out of my mind that day. 

So we went.  A long hot two-hour drive through the center of Nairobi, where we determined that the plural form of ostrich is ostriches and not ostrii, started the day on an educational note and we emerged on the other side at the Maasai Ostrich resort in good spirits.  

As we drove in, I noted that we were the only ones there, which to me was further indication that this was not a popular or recommended sport. However, adding to our already educationally rich morning, we cleaned our shoes before entering the grounds to prevent the ostriches from getting diseases and began with a wonderful and instructive tour of the ostrich farm with a knowledgeable tour guide.  We saw two types of ostriches from small to large as well as learned about their habits. "They do eat each other’s feathers!" we noted by the fact that some of them had several bald spots. We laughed at their funny countenance and their curiosity at us.  It was nice for this to be mutual.   The kids fed them green grass, which they appreciated so much that they began fighting over it.

Upon finishing the tour, I was relaxed and content thinking this was really worth the long drive. That is, until our guide asked us if we’d like to ride an ostrich.  “I’m good,” I thought.  “I have never seen baby ostrich until today nor fed an ostrich until today, so I’ve done my unusual and crazy duty as a mother. Right?!” 

“YES!!!” everyone else screamed in delight bringing me out of my reverie.  Oh great…we’re going through with it. 

As we approached the ostrich arena I noted the posted warning sign, and, thinking back to the website, wondered how many willing and unwilling victims these birds had destroyed with their powerful kick.  Rick, in a daring and heroic move, stepped to the front of the line and offered to go first.  If someone were to fall victim, he would be the gallant warrior who would sacrifice for his family by being the first to ride an ostrich.  (A sentence I never thought I’d write.)  Also true to what the website indicated, he was flanked by two professional ostrich attendants, so I did take some comfort in that.

Rick survived two trips around the arena much to the delight of everyone in our group, except me.  I mean, I was delighted that he survived, but knew that meant my turn was closer. Then Mallory and Caleb took their turns, and survived.

It was now my turn.  I bravely and carefully climbed the fence, mounting the ostrich, which seemed to be more agitated with each trip around the arena.  This would be his 7^th trip.  Was that his limit?  I tried to situate myself on the ostrich saddle having no idea where to put my feet.  It was supremely uncomfortable and I grabbed on for dear life to his wings.  Really?  That’s what you hold onto? The wings? Couldn’t they have thought of a saddle horn or something?  I settled on tightly wrapping my feet around the front of the ostrich’s chest and crossing my feet.  Now that I think of it, it is actually surprising he could still breathe.

“Okay.  I’m ready for this,” I thought, psyching myself up, feet locked tight and hands gripped securely on the wings.  “Only twice around and about fifteen seconds for each trek.  Thirty seconds of my life. I can do this!” And off we went. 

Due to the fact that there is not even the slightest hint of a back on an ostrich saddle as well as to my amateur status, I quickly began sliding right off the back of the ostrich as we lurched forward.  Thankfully, my two professional ostrich attendants anticipated this and simultaneously grabbed on to my backside pushing me back on. Rick and the rest of the family could hardly stand up, they were laughing so hard. 

What ensued was perhaps the most terrifying experience of my life so far.  Ostrich riding is not fun.  The 15 seconds around the arena that followed felt like 15 days and caused every part of my “fight or flight” instinct to kick in and my heart started pounding. And yes, the professional ostrich attendants held on to my backside the entire time.  I’ve never been so thankful for two strange men to be holding on to my rear.  We made it around the arena once and as we galloped in towards the crowd I said as calmly as I could, “I’m good.  I think one time around is enough.” 

Not wanting me to waste any of the 500 shillings I’d paid for the ride, my attendants just looked at me as if not understanding the English the seemed so proficient at when they took my money minutes before, and took me for a second trip around the arena which was equally terrifying.  As I quickly dismounted the ostrich, and leapt out of the arena, I was shaking. Whew!  I did it!  And I survived!  They definitely should have a medal for this. 

We finished our rides and spent the next hour and a half laughing at ourselves and eating ostrich burgers for lunch, which are surprisingly delicious.  This may or may not be due to the fact that you feel slightly inclined to kill an ostrich when you get off of one.

We closed out the day in the gift shop, where I decided in a moment of last minute inspiration, to remember this momentous day by purchasing an ostrich egg.  After all, every decent family needs an ostrich egg.  Rick, Mal and the kids went to get the car while I completed what I thought would be a quick purchase.  It turned out to be a bureaucracy nightmare.  Forty-five minutes later, I emerged from the gift shop with a fully registered and certified ostrich egg along with several sets of papers proving this was my official egg. It could even travel with me outside of the country if, and only if, I myself, brought the papers along.   If you’re lucky, I’ll bring it to the US the next time I come.  

Me proudly holding my certified ostrich egg!