Alex Mwangi (left) with Martha Muthoni looking at names of those killed in the Al-Shabaab attack in Mpeketoni, June 15, 2014.
My cousin, Samuel Roru Mungai, didn’t deserve to die at the hands of Al-Shabaab.
It has been 11 years and, to this day, I still cannot believe that Roru died by a terrorist’s bullet.
For more than a decade, I have struggled with anger, hopelessness and resentment. My cousin was everything to me.”
These are the words of Martha Muthoni, who was only 14 when the June 15, 2014, Al-Shabaab attack on Mpeketoni Town in Lamu West changed her life forever.
Alex Mwangi (left) with Martha Muthoni looking at names of those killed in the Al-Shabaab attack in Mpeketoni, June 15, 2014.
The assault left at least 90 people dead, more than 40 vehicles and 30 houses torched in a single night. Among those killed was her cousin, Roru.
She is one of many residents still living with the trauma of losing relatives to militants. Survivors blame the State for failing to deliver on its promise of psychosocial support.
“I feel so bad that my cousin was innocently killed by the militants. How someone could do that continues to haunt me. I used to hate some religions and tribes, thinking they were directly involved. At times, I even felt like carrying out revenge,” she said.
After high school, she joined a community organisation in Witu Town that gave her access to counselling sessions.
“Today I consider myself on the right track to recovery, though at times it still overwhelms me. That’s why we insist the government should do something precise,” she said.
The pain of survivors runs deep. In some villages, women and children were forced to watch as their husbands and fathers were beheaded. Joyce Wanjiru, 40, whose husband, John Murimi, was killed in the January 3, 2022, attack in Widho Village, fears for her children.
“One of my children was forced to watch her father being killed. He was only five. Now in Grade Three, every time he sees police or the military, he runs away, saying they are the same Al-Shabaab who killed his father. Years have passed but no one has offered us trauma counselling. We need it urgently,” she said.
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For others, widowhood came too soon. Carolyne Seiyan Siken Mutunga, 31, lost her husband, boda boda rider and farmer Josphat Gitau, 38, in the 2014 Mpeketoni attack. She was 20 and pregnant.
“I struggled with bitterness, anger and hopelessness without any government help,” she said. Through a widows’ self-help group, she received therapy from Nairobi-based well-wishers, but the support ended.
“The government promised to support us only to forget us. No compensation came. Widows here are still crying whenever they remember how their men were massacred. We need both financial and psychosocial support,” she said.
For older survivors, the responsibility has been heavy. Julius Njoroge Kimotho, 80, lost his firstborn son, David Kiiru Njoroge, in the Mpeketoni attack.
His son left behind a widow and five children aged between five and 14.
Mzee Julius Kimotho displays the photo of his son David Kiiru Njoroge who was killed in Al-Shabaab attack in Lamu in 2014.
“Despite my old age, I had to step in to ensure they get an education. We also expected government compensation for the loss but nothing has been done to date. We’re suffering,” he said.
In Salama Block 17 Village, Millicent Nyambura still recalls the July 12, 2023 raid when her neighbour was hacked to death. “Every time I stay in this compound, I am haunted that I could have done something to save my closest neighbour,” she said.
Faith leaders and psychologists warn that the lack of counselling has left wounds open.
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Ibrahim Shahibu, Chairperson of the Lamu County Interfaith Peace Forum, said NGOs solicited funds for counselling but misused them.
“Counselling is a process that requires repeated sessions and follow-ups. Doing one session is not enough. We need structured state-led programmes,” he said.
Psychologist Andrew Masama, chair of the Kenya Counselling and Psychological Association (KCPA) Lamu Branch, warned that families forced to witness killings are highly vulnerable to post-traumatic stress disorder.
“Some children can easily be coerced into radicalisation or revenge missions. Victims must be integrated into comprehensive counselling sessions to heal,” he said.
Government officials admit the gap. Lamu County Commissioner Wesley Koech acknowledged no recent programmes have been implemented.
“Initiating such programmes comes with extra budget allocations which we haven’t done so far. Such activities are usually undertaken by stakeholders like the Kenya Red Cross Society. In the meantime, I’ll follow up and establish how such situations can be handled,” he said.
Section of Mpeketoni in Lamu.
But for families like Muthoni’s, words are not enough. “At times, I feel the weight of my cousin’s death return. I wish the government would stand with us in real ways, not just in promises,” she said.
Her plea echoes across Lamu, where widows raise children alone, elderly parents step into parental roles, and children still flinch at the sight of uniforms.
Eleven years since Mpeketoni, grief remains raw, support has been scarce, and the scars of terrorism linger in homes where healing never truly began.
