This archive report was first published on 7 August 2020.
22 years later, blast victims still crying for compensation ¶
August 7, 1998, is a day that will forever be etched in the memories of victims and survivors of the US embassy bomb blast in Kenya. The blast, which left 224 people dead and 5,000 others injured, marked the first terror attack on Kenyan soil.
Twenty-two years later, the victims and survivors are still waiting for justice and compensation. Duke Rading, who lost his wife in the blast, says they feel shortchanged by the Kenya and US governments, who have kept a studious silence since the blast.
"We just hear stories that victims and survivors of the blast are going to be paid. We have never received any compensation," Rading says. The only money they got was Sh200,000 to cater for the burial expenses, while a petition they had logged with the government seeking compensation was not successful.
However, in May this year, the US Supreme Court sided with families and victims of the blasts in Kenya and Tanzania, clearing the way for their lawsuit against the Sudan government over its alleged support of al-Qaeda and complicity in the attacks. The victims were seeking $4.3 billion in punitive damages.
But the victims and survivors say they do not hope to benefit from this settlement as it will largely benefit employees or contractors at the US embassy. To them, the events of August 7, 1998, might be blurry and distant footnote in Kenya's history, but the memories of their loved ones and the horrific manner in which they lost their lives is still fresh in their minds.
For Anisa Mwilu, who lost her husband in the blast, the memories of the incident are still etched in her mind. "When I saw the Beirut explosion on Television this week, it reminded me of that day," she says. "I know the events were different but the aftermath was the same."
Her husband, Abdalla Musyoka Mwilu, was working at the Cooperative Bank, which was adjacent to the US embassy. "It was the first day he was reporting back to work after he suffered a stroke and he was still not able to walk well," she says. "I had just dropped him to the office and I was driving back home when I heard the blast."
For Juma Kwayera, a veteran journalist, a trip to buy a television set for his children turned out to be an experience he will never forget. "I was supposed to alight at Fig Tree stage, but the driver of the Matatu just refused to stop there and brought me all the way to town," he says. "When the second blast went off, I knew it was something more serious and I ran and hid under a matatu that was parked nearby."
When he emerged, part of his face had been ripped off by glass and debris. "It was a horrific scene and everyone was running around in a daze," he says. "I noticed that flesh was dangling from my face and people were looking at me and running away."
Despite the trauma they experienced, the victims and survivors say they have had to accept what happened and count their blessings with the hope that one day they will get compensation for the loss of their loved ones.
