The Community – Whitney’s Story

“It was such an ordinary day I don’t even recall what I had for breakfast.” 

 

It was just another Tuesday at 14 Riverside Drive

Mettā Nairobi is a co-working space on the sixth floor of the Belgravia building of 14 Riverside Drive. Bright and airy – with an eclectic mix of wood, glass and contemporary furniture – the space is a welcome home to budding entrepreneurs, innovators and ideators. It thrives on providing support to its more than 350 community members through a tight-knit, small team of staff. This combination provides a community space that gives fledgling enterprises a plug-and-play business operations center. All together, the staff and members make up the Mettā Nairobi community. 

The youngest member of the Mettā team, 23-year-old Whitney Ogutu walked into the office earlier than usual that Tuesday morning. Enjoying the second week of work in the new year, the Programs Associate had resolutions at the forefront of her mind. Tuesdays at Mettā are as normal as it gets – work-in-progress meetings, catching up with colleagues and members and problem-solving with her boss.  

It was just another Tuesday.  

Feeling off

After enjoying a late lunch with colleagues in the modern kitchen area, Whitney headed back to her desk, mentioning to one of her friends that for some strange reason she was feeling off – “mathogothanio” she said. She couldn’t explain why, it was just an odd feeling and she soon dismissed it. Shortly after a phone conversation with a close friend, a blast rocked the building that interrupted her thoughts but aligned with the feeling of disquiet. Shrapnel and debris flew up as high as their windows and she soon saw a dark cloud of smoke rising from below. In shock, she realized chaos was unfolding within the 14 Riverside complex, people in the space were running helter-skelter, some screaming in the aftermath of the explosion. No one knew what was going on. Then came the gunshots, and an almost instant silence over the office – explosions could be anything, but gunfire meant an attack that warranted only one response – to hide. The shots set off screaming and car alarms, raising the noise and confusion levels that had suddenly surrounded her. 
Together the team jumped into action to safeguard themselves. They tried to lock their entrance door – but the key could not be found, so they barricaded the door with furniture. Desperately, they dragged the heaviest couches and stacked stools and tables across the double glass door. It wasn’t much, but it was something and the attackers would have a difficult time gaining entry – that was enough for them. 

Trapped

The spray of bullets continued, reaching as high as their windows and the fear heightened. The only thing to do was stay out of sight, and far from the windows in the space that had precious few walls and what felt like too much glass that worsened their exposure. Some team members huddled in the small bathroom stalls, Whitney and a few others lay low under desks, hiding, shaking. Many were crying softly – feeling the burden of the moment, realizing they were trapped in something they couldn’t even begin to understand. In that moment, Whitney called her mother to tell her what was going on, she could tell her mother was crying but trying hard to stay strong for her daughter, repeating prayer after prayer over her situation.

Unsure of what the world knew, she turned to Twitter to share their dire situation. Desperate for a link to the outside world, she tweeted that she was within the complex under attack – begging for whoever would read to inform the police, pleading for help. Not knowing who would read her pleas, she kept her exact location private. Time passed as the gunfire continued, sometimes it felt closer and louder than others, causing the aura in the office to turn tense as they covered their ears and stayed curled up in awkward positions for their safety.

Exhausted

Eventually, the security services called to let them know they were aware the team was still trapped inside. It brought some comfort, but time was moving sluggishly. Dusk was slowly approaching, and with it, mental and emotional exhaustion. Cramped in a small space, Whitney started beating her numb legs to get the circulation going.

“At some point, we were so tired we were ready for them to come in and finish what they’d intended to do.”
Thankfully, fate had a better plan. By 5:30 pm, there was heavy pounding on the Mettā door. Unsure of who it was, no one dared to move. Tentatively, a young man got up and bravely made his way to the door, afraid but hopeful as he risked being seen by whoever was knocking. Peering through, he saw the bullet proof vest of a RECCE squad member, and informed his workmates. Help had come.  

A Risky Escape

Whitney and two others ran to the door to begin bringing down the barriers. Even with the police pushing through from the other side, the heavy couches which had previously been stacked so quickly (driven by adrenaline) took time to dismantle. Despite assurances from the rescue of safe passage, not everybody was ready to move. Shock had paralyzed many. The gunshots seemed louder, closer to the building where they were and walking into a gun battle felt overwhelming. But the team rallied each other, colleagues reaching out to one another, leaning on their values of collaboration, compassion and courage.  

Ordered by the police to make a human chain, they walked out and down the stairs standing behind the Recce member and guided by two GSU policemen. Still shaking, the team of colleagues connected one-by-one linking to each other for dear life. By the time they reached the 4th floor they met other officers who demanded to know whether they could all recognize and account for each other. It dawned that they were caught up in the operation in a very real way, and though rescue was imminent, ensuring the right people were being rescued was critical. Once outside the building – another hurdle had to be faced – to stay silent, and to keenly watch where they stepped, careful so as to avoid accidentally setting off on an explosive device.  

Stealthily, they made it out of Belgravia, around the adjacent building and finally ran past the barrier and onto the road full of police, cameras and journalists. It was 6:00 pm – and most of the Mettā team was out of the complex thanks to the two GSU officers and one Recce Squad member. 

Finally free

The group of 40 plus thankfully hugged each other, still crying and shaking as they checked in at the Red Cross Command Post where each and every name was registered for the benefit of relatives and friends that had been holding vigil. The Head of the Mettā team urged them to keep together and keep walking, eager to put as much distance between them and the complex. By the time they reached Ring Road, Kileleshwa, they almost collapsed. With a collective exhale, they realized that they had made it out alive. They had stood together in the most difficult of times, praying for a rescue that finally came.

To their horror and sorrow, the Mettā community learned later that they lost one of their own in the Riverside attack. Jason Spindler, a member of the community, had been having lunch on the ground floor of the complex when his life was cruelly snatched from him in the tragic incident.

In times of trouble, the collective strength of a community around us can carry us through even the toughest of times. 

#KenyaUnbowed