The Foreign Service Journal, May 2008

we will never know. Certainly he had dedicated his life to this version of Islam. In 1996 he had trained in explosives in Afghanistan, where he met Osama bin Laden. In 1998, when bin Laden issued his fatwa to kill Americans any- where in the world, Ohwali asked for a mission. When he was selected by al-Qaida to be the one to deliver the bomb in Nairobi, he enthusiastically accepted the responsibility with his distorted sense of honor. He willingly entered into a covenant to kill Americans. I often wonder how many times he drove by the U.S. embassy in downtown Nairobi, or walked around it to check out the entrances and exits and plan his attack. Did anyone ever notice him studying the building? I was in Kenya because my husband, Jim, was assigned to the embassy as a political officer. We had been in the Foreign Service for close to a decade by that time, having served in Beijing and Madras (now Chennai) before com- ing to Nairobi in 1996. We were there to represent our country, and because we both believe in and love the international life. We enjoy getting to know other cultures and people from different backgrounds and histories. We believe in the power of personal diplomacy. Moreover, we want our children — “made in China” and raised in India — to experience and understand the world. Although Jim represented the United States in his role as diplomat, I had many differences with the way my country conducted its foreign policy. I was often critical of what our government did, like many Americans. On the morning of Aug. 7, 1998, after we’d been in Nairobi for two years, I went downtown with our two chil- dren, Caroline (5) and Christopher (8), to see the embassy doctor for a school physical. Afterwards we were going to meet Jim for lunch. We were all dressed up. I remember Christopher wore his blue blazer and khaki shorts; I wore a pink silk sheath and a blue blazer; and Caroline had on a little red smock dress with red sandals and white ankle socks. We wanted the day to be special for our family. Driving into the city, I learned that the children had hidden our little cocker spaniel, Jingle Bells, in the car to surprise their daddy. I had to turn around and drive Jingles back home, explaining to the children that dogs were not welcome at the embassy, and then set out again. By the time we arrived at the embassy, we were late for our appointment. We pulled into the parking lot behind the embassy at precisely 10:33 a.m., and parked next to an unfamiliar truck covered with canvas, with two men sitting in the front seat. I didn’t pay much attention to them, though I did notice that there weren’t many other cars in the back parking lot that day. Perhaps Owhali watched as we walked past his truck. He saw my little red-haired daughter in her red dress and my son all dressed up, scampering excitedly to see their father. He saw me animatedly chatting with the guard at the back gate as he let us in. Was Owhali swearing under his breath that we were intruding on his plans? Did it bother him that we were going into the very building he was about to blow up? Did it even cross his mind that he was planning to kill us? Or perhaps he was saying his last prayers before he committed suicide and did not even notice us. Even if he had, I suspect we were only an image in his mind, not real human beings — just repre- sentations of the American “hegemonic evil empire.” While I was entering the building and walking my chil- dren down the long corridor into the embassy medical unit in the basement, Owhali was demanding that the embassy guard let his truck into the compound, through the gate we had just entered on foot. The guard adamantly refused — even when threatened. As I hand- ed the school physical forms and the children’s shot records to the embassy nurse, Owhali threw a stun grenade at the guard to scare him off. “What was that loud noise?” I asked the nurse. “Probably a bus has blown out its tires in front of the embassy,” she surmised. As Christopher and Caroline were building a Lego tower on the floor in the doctor’s office, fear must have F O C U S M A Y 2 0 0 8 / F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L 33 Joanne Grady Huskey is a Foreign Service family member who has been posted with her husband and children to Beijing, Madras, Nairobi and Taipei, where she currently resides. A cross-cultural trainer and international educator, Ms. Huskey founded Global Adjustments in India, a relocation company that specializes in cross-cultural training. She is also a co-founder of the American International School in Chennai and a former international director of Very Special Arts International at the John F. Kennedy Center. She has published articles in Newsweek , the Washington Post , State magazine, the Foreign Service Journal , and Centered on Taipei .