KENYA'S DARKEST MEMORIES

 

When I was young, my mother once told me about a tragedy that occurred at the old Kilifi Ferry crossing before the construction of the Kilifi Bridge in 1991. A ferry carrying passengers capsized in the waters of Kilifi Creek, claiming many innocent lives. Families lost loved ones within minutes. Mothers lost children. Children lost parents. To this day, my mother still remembers the pain and fear that surrounded that incident. Some tragedies may fade from the headlines, but they never leave the hearts of those who witnessed them.

As I grew older, I came to realize that Kenya is a country that has known both beauty and unbearable sorrow. There are incidents that shook the nation so deeply that even years later, mentioning them still reopens wounds.

One of the earliest tragedies many Kenyans still remember is the horrific Sabaki River bus accident near Malindi. Two buses collided and plunged into the swollen Sabaki River, leading to the deaths of many passengers. Families waiting for loved ones never saw them again. Rescue efforts were heartbreaking as bodies were retrieved from the river while survivors screamed in shock and pain. For many coastal families, the Sabaki tragedy remains one of the most painful road accidents ever witnessed in Kenya. The thought of passengers trapped inside buses sinking into deep waters is something the country never truly forgot.

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I remember the 2013 Westgate Mall attack in Nairobi. For days, the entire country watched in horror as terrorists from Al-Shabaab stormed the mall, killing innocent Kenyans and foreigners. It felt unreal — like watching a terrifying movie unfold live on television. Families were trapped inside. Some hid under tables and inside shops, praying for survival. Others never made it out alive. The images, the screams, the confusion, and the bravery of those who risked their lives to save others remain permanently etched in our memories.

Then came the Garissa University attack on 2nd April 2015 — one of the darkest days in Kenya’s history. Al-Shabaab gunmen stormed the university at dawn and turned a place of learning into a scene of unimaginable horror. Young students who had dreams, ambitions, and bright futures ahead of them were hunted down mercilessly. Survivors later narrated how they heard gunshots echo through the dormitories as terrified students ran for safety. Some hid in wardrobes and bathrooms for hours, listening to screams and prayers around them. By the end of the siege, 148 people had lost their lives, most of them students.

Parents who had struggled to educate their children received the most devastating phone calls of their lives. Some travelled to Garissa with hope, only to return carrying bodies. Kenya cried together. Churches, mosques, schools, and homes fell silent in mourning. It was a tragedy that left an entire generation traumatized.

Another heartbreaking tragedy that touched the nation was the Likoni Ferry disaster in Mombasa in September 2019. A vehicle slid off the MV Harambee ferry into the deep waters of the Indian Ocean. Inside the car were Mariam Kigenda and her four-year-old daughter, Amanda Mutheu. Kenyans watched helplessly as rescue operations continued for days. The thought that a mother and her child spent their final moments together beneath the dark waters broke the hearts of millions. The image of that tragedy remains one of the saddest memories many Kenyans still carry today.

We also remember the plane crash that claimed

the life of Professor George Saitoti in June 2012. Kenya lost not only a senior government official, but also a leader many believed still had so much to offer the country. The suddenness of his death shocked the nation. One moment he was alive, serving his country, and the next, he was gone.

Today, yet another tragedy has struck the nation. The fire at Utumishi Girls has plunged the country into mourning. Young girls who left home to pursue education and build their futures have lost their lives in the most painful way. Reports indicate that 16 students have lost their lives, others are fighting for survival, and several students have been detained following allegations of arson. Behind every number is a child whose parents had dreams for them. Behind every life lost is a family now drowning in grief.

There are tragedies that affect only those directly involved. But there are also tragedies that make an entire country mourn together. Incidents so painful that even strangers feel connected by grief. Moments that leave permanent scars in our minds and hearts. Moments we will probably one day narrate to our own children, just as our parents narrated theirs to us.

Because tragedy has a way of freezing time.

You remember where you were when you heard the news.

You remember the silence that followed.

You remember the pain, even when the victims were people you never knew personally.

Today, Kenya mourns again.

May God grant strength and comfort to the parents, families, and friends who have lost their children in the Utumishi Girls fire tragedy. And may justice prevail for every life that was lost too soon.

MAMA ..BEHIND OUR SUCCESS IS HER SACRIFICE

Today, I honour my mother — Freda Mwangolo — a woman whose love was expressed through sacrifice, discipline, and unwavering dedication to her children’s future.

Mama loved us deeply and intentionally. Her love was not just spoken, but lived every single day through her actions. She sacrificed personal comfort, often giving up good food, beautiful clothing, and personal pleasures so that we, her children, could have the best life possible. She always placed our needs before hers without complaint. Even in the home, she remains tireless — waking up before everyone else and ensuring that by the time we rise, all house chores are already done and everything is in order.

From her strength and guidance, she raised her children into accomplished individuals. Her children — Habona Komora, a Bachelor of Commerce (Finance option) graduate currently pursuing CPA and a Master’s degree working with the County Government of Tana River; Timna Komora, a Law graduate and Advocate of the High Court with a Master’s in International Relations and Diplomacy working at the County Assembly of Tana River; Hajilo Komora, holder of a Bachelor of Science degree and Diploma in Nursing working at Kilifi Hospital; Dr. Rehema Komora, a medical doctor (Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery) serving in the County Government of Tana River; and Daddah Komora, a trained nurse also working with the County Government of Tana River — are living proof of her sacrifice, discipline, and vision. The fact that three of her five children are medical professionals speaks deeply of her influence, values, and the path she inspired.

Mama is herself a medic, and through her example, we grew up admiring her compassion, discipline, and commitment to service. She and our father carried the responsibility of raising and educating five children to the highest levels of their potential, ensuring that none of us lacked direction, education, or support.

She is not just a mother — she is the foundation of our success, the pillar of our strength, and the heart of our family.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom Freda. We are because you gave. We are because you sacrificed. We are because you loved without limits. ❤️🌸

WHERE IT BEGAN WAS SMALL ...WHAT SHE BECAME IS NOT

 

She sits not in a room defined by furniture or aesthetics, but in a position defined by years of discipline, sacrifice, and quiet endurance — working in civil service, representing the County Assembly, serving with fulfillment and earning respect that has been hard-won, not given.

Before all this, there was Ngao.

a humble village where life moved with simplicity but demanded quiet resilience. Schooling was in a public school with modest resources, where classrooms were basic, opportunities limited, and success was never assumed. Books were shared, paths were long, and expectations were unspoken but deeply felt. It was a place where discipline was not enforced by systems, but by circumstance; where determination was not taught, but necessary. In that village setting, ambition was not handed over — it was slowly built, shaped by perseverance, humility, and the understanding that if a future was to change, it would begin there.

From Ngao, she moved forward — not away from herself, but deeper into her calling.

Murray Girls High School came next, tucked in the cold hills of Taita Taveta. A place where the mornings bite and the nights feel longer than they should. It was distant in every sense — geographically, emotionally, even socially. No frequent visitations. No comfort of familiarity. Just discipline, silence, and the slow shaping of a young woman who had no option but to become strong.

There, determination learned how to survive loneliness.

Then Moi University, Eldoret — School of Law.

Law was not just studied. It was endured.

Cases that refused to make sense at first reading. Pages that multiplied when sleep should have come. Lectures that demanded presence even when exhaustion begged for absence. The law does not comfort its students — it refines them. And she was being refined, quietly and repeatedly, through pressure most people never see.

But the hardest test was still ahead.

The Kenya School of Law.

Sleepless nights that blurred into mornings. Mental fatigue that no textbook prepares you for. Pressure that sits on your chest even when everything is technically “on track.” It is a place where many begin, but not everyone becomes.

She did not just pass through it — she survived it.

And then she became what she had been moving toward all along.

An Advocate of the High Court of Kenya.

One of the few Pokomo lawyers in a field where representation is never evenly distributed. A civil servant. Serving in the County Assembly with integrity, earning respect through competence, presence, and consistency. Fulfilled not by arrival, but by purpose.

But behind that title are layers no certificate can show.

The tears no one saw.

The doubts she never voiced aloud.

The quiet sacrifices of youth, rest, and ease.

The joy that came not loudly, but deeply — when she finally understood that she had not wasted any of it.

Focused. Determined. Unstoppable.

Not as a slogan on a desk — but as a life lived in full.