Personal safety overrides curiosity

As it is, every rapidly unfolding accident, disaster or attack offers its own chances for survival or escape. FILE PHOTO | NMG

On the face of it, we humans are built to survive. And yet, of course, we often fail in that endeavour, taking a risk too far, or caught in someone else’s crossfire, or simply ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time, as floods strike, or pestilence reigns.

Yet insofar as we are agents of our own destiny, our own actions do often make a difference to our chances of survival. Which makes it strange that surviving can be a matter we prepare so little for.

First up in this comes the matter of curiosity. This is not some random thing, where we just get a vicarious pleasure in watching the accidents of others. We are most definitely hard wired to gather information about shocking events.

But that hard wiring is actually set so deep in our ‘risk assessment’ mechanisms that we are attracted to accident scenes like moths to a candle. That isn’t a Kenyan thing, it’s a human thing – I was recently sat in a 1 ½ hour tailback on a British motorway that finally unfurled into a gory accident with smashed vehicles in an extra lane on the roadside.

But it wasn’t actually the crash itself that caused the tailback – the road wasn’t blocked. It was people slowing to a near stop to see what had happened. Yet the slowing and peering was an accident risk in itself, which is a phenomenon we’ve all witnessed.

I even recall, during the post-election violence of early 2008, driving on Uhuru Highway as demonstrators began running out of CBD chased by tear gas and bullets. We wanted to see. Everyone wanted to see.

Our heads nearly twisted off our necks trying to work out what was happening, the source of the bullets, the nature of the fracas. Traffic that was free flowing slowed as we all tried to see. Which was by far the least survival-oriented strategy we could take.

The smart thing was to drive away, really as fast as possible, not knowing what the fighting was about, but getting away from it, and getting safe.And here lies the first dilemma of survival. They call our response to a sudden stressor or disaster a ‘fight or flight’ response, but in these kinds of events, the first choice we actually take is ‘flight or investigate’.

Thus, we have heard in recent weeks of people who walked towards the shooting at Dusit2, or of the explosion on Latema Road in Nairobi’s CBD that attracted so many onlookers that crowds presented a problem for police.

Such incidents suggest we really should look at recalibrating our ‘investigate’ instinct. If you want to get home to your children tonight, or would rather not be today’s casualty, flight is a very good way to go indeed. In short, get out of there, as fast as you possibly can, and don’t look back until you are actually genuinely out of harm’s reach.

For our rescue services, for those who can help those who are hurt, we need you there.

But when you, personally, peer out because you have heard a gun shot, or head towards the sound of shooting, are you genuinely off on a mission to rescue the wounded?

Or did you just let curiosity walk you into a shooting range? As it is, every rapidly unfolding accident, disaster or attack offers its own chances for survival or escape.

Exits, places to hide, ways to get away. But the ways to improve your chances are proven and taught to every survival force.

The first rule is to get down: onto the floor. You may feel more vulnerable down there, but that’s another intuitive overlay.

The reality is that you’re a lesser target, and less likely to be targeted as a body on the floor. So maybe we would all feel stupid if we heard gunfire, dived like a stone onto the floor of a restaurant we were in, and then it turned out to be a car backfiring, or a careless lorry driver dropping his tailgate onto some hapless object.

But embarrassed is better than shot, by far. Take cover first. Get away second. Ask questions later.

PAYE Tax Calculator

Note: The results are not exact but very close to the actual.