Before the boom, there was the rush. Before the screams of pain, there were shouts of excitement. The tragedy on the Southern Bypass today is a story of two Kenyas: one that drives past in air-conditioned comfort, and one that risks incineration for a 20-litre jerrycan of petrol worth KES 4,300.

As the smoke clears from the charred remains of the fuel tanker and the five trucks it destroyed, a disturbing narrative is emerging. The explosion was not instantaneous. There was a window of time—a "golden hour" of stupidity and desperation—where tragedy could have been averted. Instead, it was embraced.

The Economics of Death

Witnesses report that immediately after the tanker overturned near the Carnivore exit, the instinct of the gathering crowd was not flight, but harvest. Boda boda riders, matatu touts, and nearby residents descended on the wreck like ants on sugar.

• Liquid Cash: In an economy where the cost of living has strangled the common man, spilt fuel is seen as liquid cash. "Mafuta imemwagika, tuwache ikae?" (Fuel has spilled, should we let it sit?) one man argued, minutes before the blast.
• Ignored Warnings: Police officers on the scene fired teargas canisters to disperse the looting crowd. They screamed warnings. But the lure of the "black gold" was stronger than the fear of death.
• The Spark: It is not yet clear what triggered the ignition—a metal boot scraping on tarmac, a mobile phone ringing, or a lit cigarette—but the result was absolute. The vapor cloud ignited, engulfing those closest to the prize.

A Recurring Nightmare

Why do we keep doing this? From Sachangwan to Sinai, the script is identical. We mourn, we bury the dead, we vow "never again," and then the next tanker falls, and the jerrycans reappear. It is a psychology of poverty that defies logic.

The Kenya Red Cross is currently offering psychosocial support to witnesses, many of whom watched their friends turn into human torches. But counseling cannot cure the desperation that drove them there.

The Kenyan Lens

The Southern Bypass remains closed, a dark scar on the city’s map. But the deeper scar is on our national psyche. Until the economic desperation of the masses is addressed, a leaking tanker will always be seen as a blessing rather than a bomb. Today, the price of that blessing was life itself.