Erick Kioko, “Slum is a constant reminder of my lost arm”

IRIN Africa, East Africa
Published November 9, 2009

Erick Kioko was trying to help a woman who was being raped but the attackers turned on him and cut his hand after he put it up to shield his head

NAIROBI, KENYA – Before 15 January 2008, Erick Kioko was a typical ghetto youth – juggling several petty jobs to survive, but mostly, he liked working as a part-time disc-jockey for local entertainment outfits operating from Mathare slums in the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. Other times he served as a tout on city minibus routes, earning KSh50 (US66 cents) per trip. Sometimes he was a porter at a taxi rank. He did all these jobs to support his wife and child, mother and three siblings. Then the country went to the polls in December 2007 and the ensuing violence changed Kioko’s life for ever.

Kioko found himself trapped in Kisumu, in the west, where he had gone for a DJ gig. Somehow he made it to Nairobi after two days to find Mathare engulfed in chaos. Kioko, now aged 26, spoke to IRIN about how he lost his arm:

“When I realized that the violence was getting worse, all I wanted to do was check that my family was safe; I arrived in Mathare on 15 January 2008 to find that youths had formed groups to guard their homes from being burnt by rival groups. I found my mother at the gate of the [Moi] Air Force Base where many people had sought refuge.

“In the evening we heard that one of the groups had ordered everyone to remain indoors. I decided to make my way home but I found a group of men – I think they were more than 15 – raping a woman. They were armed with many weapons, including machetes. The woman’s screams were so painful, I decided to pick up a few stones and start stoning the mob in the hope that they would leave her alone.

“I continued throwing stones at the group without realizing that three of them had detached themselves and surrounded me. I realized too late that they wanted to cut me up. One of them was so close to me, he aimed his machete at my head. Instinctively, I put my left hand up to shield myself. The next thing I knew my hand was on the ground, he had cut it off! I was in shock.

“I saw the others move closer to me and somehow an inner voice told me to run. I took off with all my strength, heading for the air force base; I just wanted to be near my mother. There I was quickly helped into an ambulance and rushed to Kenyatta National Hospital.

“I stayed in hospital for a month, sleeping on the floor and sometimes going without food as the place was very congested. All they did was dress the wound, I was promised surgery but I was only operated on towards the end of February. Later, Blue House [a charity operating in Mathare] helped me with two other operations in another hospital where the stump was further reduced.

“Now I have healed and I am trying to get on with life, but how can I be a DJ with only one arm? I can no longer be a tout because you need both hands; I can’t be a porter either. I dropped out of school in Class Three due to lack of fees so I can’t get less-tiring jobs easily. My wife and I live with my mother because I can no longer afford to rent our own place. I spend the nights with friends because I cannot sleep in the same room as my mother.

“All I have right now are questions. Why me? Why has the government forgotten those like me yet it is compensating IDPs [internally displaced persons] who lost property? What of us who lost limbs? I have not even paid the debt I owe Kenyatta National Hospital. I have written to the district commissioner … telling him about my plight but I have not had a response. I plan to go back to his office soon.

“I just need to find a way of supporting myself again. Most of all, I wish I could leave this slum; it is a constant reminder of my lost arm. Friends have even shown me where they found the hand. I wish I had a prosthetic hand so I could resume being a DJ, I wish I could start a small business and be able to rent a house but all these remain just that – wishes – for now.”

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