Disclaimer:

This post has been written to describe in detail the events and emotions that arose from the terror attack at Dusit D2 hotel in Nairobi, Kenya in January 15th, 2019 and days that followed. All events in this post are from my point of view.

I have changed names and remained somewhat vague for the privacy of those involved. I do not comply to any publication of this story, or the events described in this story.

Should there be a desire or need to learn more please comment on the post with your contact information.

January 16th, 2019.

After hours of sharing the terrible news of Jason’s passing with his family and friends, the reality of the next crucial steps became heavy and clear.

At 6:16 I departed the hospital with Stacey and Adrian to shower, pick up some identification, and begin the next process of identifying and moving Jason. I returned at 7:15.

John, Fallon and I departed the hospital at 8:30 to head to the government morgue. We had been contacted and in touch with a team from the US Embassy agreeing to assist us in accordance with Jason’s family’s wishes.

At 9:34 we arrived at a scene that triggered both urgency and fear. The morgue was located just a few hundred meters from the Dusit D2 hotel entrance which not more than minutes before had continued to report an active attack. There were still people held up inside desperately waiting for their rescue.

As is the case with Kenyan bureaucracy, we spent hours waiting, checking in, trying to force our way in, and feeling defeated as the sun reached the top of the sky. The morgue looked like a medium sized school house with just a few exits and entrances. It was a sunny day, unmercifully hot, and scant for seating. Surrounding the morgue were anywhere from 200-300 media persons from a number of press outlets. It was sickening.

After three hours of waiting, the media quickly gathered in the parking lot as a prominent politician arrived. What felt like progress in seeing Jason, soon turned to anger and frustration as the crowds mounted and pushed their way through to catch a picture or clip of the local celebrity.

Finally at 13:30, four hours after arriving, we forced our way through to the front of the line. Accompanied by four people from the Embassy team, we demanded that we see Jason next. They let us in.

We were led up a corridor towards a darkened hallway with several open rooms ahead. We waited. I could feel my heart rate increase, my mouth turned dry. I held Fallon’s and John’s hands tight, squeezing into them the fear I felt in myself. Saying out loud,

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

What came next was the ushering of the seven of us into a sharply lit bay. Three walls, and a ceiling with an ominous fluorescent light hanging over Jason. Immediately my heart slowed down. I felt a sense of closure. A feeling of deep sadness and loss and yet the presence of clarity in 23 hours of fear, shock and pain.

Jason lay there, still and calm. He was perfectly recognizable, and had a slight but definite smile across his lips. The residue of hatred and terrorism stained his clothing, but didn’t have audacity to disfigure the perfect shape of a man. After several minutes we confirmed that it was indeed Jason, and slowly left the room.

I prayed for the second time in 10 years. We were ushered to a counseling room with people of all faiths. As we allowed the tears and despair to reach us fully we were joined by prayerful hands and voices. Anger filled my body and hot tears began to stream from my eyes. I sat there trembling as I dialed his family to speak truth to the news.

Then we waited. For two hours we waited and fought the inefficiency and corruption resisting our peaceful removal of Jason. We had to push for paperwork, hold up shirts and sheets to block the incessant press from disrespecting the transfer of victims out of the morgue. I lost my shit, several times screaming in anger at media, at administrators, and even at those trying to help.

I was overcome by a feeling of helplessness. The senselessness of the attack, the lack of urgency in those working at the morgue, the feeling that no one else cared as much as we possibly could.

At 15:34 we finally departed the morgue with Jason.