I pray I never cover a scene like that again

I remember the day like it was yesterday. And just like many other Kenyans, Saturday, September 21 2013, started and looked every bit like a normal day for me.

As the one manning the photo desk in the newsroom, I was in the office at Nation Centre by 8 a.m.

Everything ran normally until around midday when I received a call from my news editor about an attack at the swanky Westgate Mall in Nairobi’s Westlands area.

The details were scanty. Instinctively, though, I dispatched photographer Jeff Angote to the scene.

But my mobile phone would not stop ringing. The news desk phone was ringing off the hook with calls from people trapped inside the mall, giving, in the confusion, hurried and conflicting information. Some thought it was a major robbery.

Others said the attackers were not robbers, and from their narration, it was evident they were terrorists.

From then on, everything changed. Immediately, Sunday Nation editors convened an impromptu meeting after which I was assigned to take charge of the coverage of the scene.

We headed out to the scene. But our chauffeur, Joe Mungai, kept warning us of the horrendous scenes he had witnessed outside the mall while dropping some of our colleagues.

We arrived at the mall around 12:10 p.m. There was a heavy security cordon, and the Inspector-General of Police David Kimaiyo had already arrived.

Emergency responders from the Red Cross were also on location.

I heard sustained gunfire inside the mall; I knew this was serious.

My photo editor, Joan Pereruan, called to inquire about the situation. I briefed her.

A few minutes later, I gathered some courage and headed straight into the mall. I was behind armed plainclothes police officers who were communicating in code language.

They cautioned me to be careful. At the entrance, I saw a number of bodies, some on the ground and others inside parked vehicles.

They had been sprayed with countless bullets by the merciless attackers. At that point, the magnitude of what we were confronting dawned on me.

It was not safe for anybody, not for the security officers, the Red Cross volunteers or the journalists.

We asked a rescued victim who the attackers were.

She said: “They are speaking in Swahili. One of them asked the rest ‘Mmeua wangapi?’ (how many have you killed). One of them replied, ‘Wengi’ (many). The one who had asked then said, ‘hiyo tosha’ (that’s enough).”

Despite the horror, I somehow kept taking shot after shot.

It’s a day I will never forget and I hope I never have to cover an event like that ever again.