One bomber set himself off in the dining room itself, killing 20 of Ahmed’s customers. Standing in that room, watching Ahmed’s workmen clean up, I realised what the term ‘pink mist’ really means. The bomber’s solid body had expanded outwards into an aerosol cloud of human particles that now covered every square inch of ceiling, walls and floor. The workmen were using trowels and shovels to clean up.
‘They’re scrubbing it, to get rid of the blood and human remains. When they’ve done that they’ll put on four or five coats of white paint,’ said Ahmed…
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ said Ahmed when I saw him last, in October.
Days later, Al Shabaab launched a fresh attack on Ahmed. Two bombers tried to enter one of his restaurants again. When a policeman stopped them, they blew themselves sky high, killing nobody else but sending a message: they are still after Ahmed.
