Thievery After Carnage in Kenya Raises Questions About Soldiers’ Conduct

Dai Kurokawa/European Pressphoto Agency

A Kenyan military police officer at an entrance to the Westgate mall in Nairobi, where scores of people were killed in an attack last month. 

NAIROBI, Kenya — Mannequins were stripped clean, jewelry cases smashed, racks of expensive suits carted off, dozens of cash registers cracked open and at least one member of the Kenyan security services arrested, caught with a bloody wallet.

Multimedia

 

The looting of the Westgate mall, the scene of a siege in which scores of people were killed last month, appeared to have the scope and organization of a large-scale military operation, and many Kenyans are asking if that is what it was.

From the first hours after Islamist militants burst into the mall on Sept. 21, killing men, women and children, until a week later when shopkeepers were let back in to sweep up the broken glass, very few people were allowed inside the mall except the Kenyan security forces, mainly the army.

More and more Kenyans believe that those soldiers methodically cleaned out the mall, and that the barrages of gunfire ringing out for days were being directed not at the last of the militants but at safes and padlocks to blast them open. Some business leaders even question whether the Kenyan Army deliberately prolonged the crisis by saying that shooters were still in the building when they were actually dead, to give themselves extra time to steal.

Witnesses said that the most they saw militants loot was a couple of cans of soda, and shopkeepers cited no instances of panicked shoppers helping themselves to merchandise as they ran for their lives, leading to the widespread conclusion that the security forces must have been involved.

Kenyans are accustomed to corruption — their country is consistently rated as one of the most corrupt in the world — but the evidence of looting amid a national tragedy has been too much for many to take.

“It’s disgraceful,” said Maina Kiai, one of Kenya’s best-known human rights defenders. “It’s part of a nasty culture where power means everything, where you take what you can, you do whatever you want, and there’s no accountability.”

The Kenyan military said Thursday that it was “committed to get to the bottom of this” and appealed to the public for any information about soldiers who may have looted.

President Uhuru Kenyatta has announced an official inquiry into the security services’ response, which has been roundly criticized as slow and bungled. But official inquiries often do not amount to much, many Kenyans say. The other night on a Kenyan news broadcast, a camera panned across a shelf of previous inquiries — thick, bound tomes that went nowhere.

In a question put to viewers, 77 percent said they believed the Kenyan Army was responsible for the plundering of Westgate.

“Four-day siege or four-day shopping spree?” said one Western official working in Kenya.

Many questions are still swirling. The Shabab, a Somali Islamist group, has claimed responsibility for killing the more than 60 people at the mall, but the number of militants who stormed in — and who they were — remain unknown.

On Thursday morning, at the Westgate entrance, vans usually used for taking tourists on safari disgorged a platoon of Western investigators wearing zip-off nylon pants and handguns on their hips. The mall reeked of rotten meat. Kenyan soldiers in hazardous material suits and gas masks leaned over piles of debris, collecting evidence. There were still pools of blood on the floor, bits of flesh sticking to the tiles. Several more bodies were unearthed Thursday from a pile of rubble.

The mall’s electricity remained shut off, and inside Sir Henry’s, a men’s store on the ground floor, clerks took inventory by lantern light. Fazal Virani, one of Sir Henry’s owners, shook his head in disbelief. He pointed out that the cheaper suits in the front of the store had not been stolen, while dozens of his most expensive suits, hanging in the back and costing almost $2,000 each, were gone.

“These guys had time, man, these guys had time,” he said.

Mr. Virani then trudged upstairs to commiserate with other shopkeepers.

“You get hit, too?” he asked a group of men standing ankle deep in crushed glass.

“Dumb question,” replied Michael Waweru, the owner of a small boutique. “Everyone got hit.”