There are no words that will express the horror of what's happened at Westgate, and so I feel helpless. I cannot make a condemnation strong enough for this nightmare. Nothing conveys the anger. The pain. The utter unjustified horror of what an attack on hundreds of civilians feels like for a nation -- particularly one as new to democracy as Kenya.
I don't know what this will mean for Kenya. I don't know if this, combined with the Nairobi airport fire of just six weeks ago, will put a major dent in Kenya's tourism for any period of time. I don't know if this will worsen the already-difficult lives of Somalis in Kenya, or if it will alter the way we think about security in public spaces, or if it will burn a mark into the Kenyan character that is never erased.
I don't know what's going to happen to this city that I've fallen in love with (quietly, without realizing it), or these people who have settled deeply into my heart. I don't know tomorrow.
I do know three things:
I know that Kenyans are some of the most generous, most resourceful, and most unerringly kind people I've ever had the privilege of meeting. Kenya will come through this tragedy a stronger nation. She has to.
I know that the war on extremism and indiscriminate killings is not over.
I know that the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. I know that the good guys outnumber the bad, and the good guys always win. The battle may be long, and the fight may be fierce, but the good guys always win.
My heart is with Kenya tonight.