There is an old saying in Swahili, the language of most Kenyans, that when two elephants fight, it is the grass that gets trampled.
A lot of Kenyans are feeling like grass these days.
"The bombers have differences with the Americans, but it is our people who are taking a hammering here," said Supt Mike Harries, a Nairobi police chaplain who was surveying the scene of Friday's bomb blast near the US embassy. "Just look at this place."
The wounded are being treated in hospitals. The dead are being prepared for burial. Rescue operations are winding down. But few Kenyans have been able to put last week's terrorist attack behind them. At the core of their disquiet is a basic question no one has been able to answer: Why here?
"We are not a big country. We are a poor people. We have no quarrels," said Mr Gitau Kamau, a driver for a tour company. "Yet they do this to us. What is there to gain?"
There have been suggestions, of course, that this crumbling, pothole-ridden capital was targeted because of lax security, the embassy's central setting, and the relative ease of transporting dangerous explosives within the developing world.
Americans are not disliked in Kenya, a former British colony best known in the United States for its tea, coffee, and spectacular wildlife. If anything, their tourist dollars are a welcome antidote for the country's ailing economy.
But with Friday's attack and its fallout for Kenya's international standing, people here are learning that friendship with the US can come at a high price.
"We are innocent bystanders," said Mr Frank Ngenga, a psychiatrist at one Nairobi hospital, who has been counselling victims.
By Sunday, the mix of emotions reached well beyond the agony of seeing friends and family bloodied by a senseless act of terrorism. Looking to tomorrow and the next day, Kenyans have more worries. Scores of damaged businesses have little or no insurance to rebuild or make repairs. Hotel rooms are emptying. Tour packages are being cancelled. Many shops across central Nairobi, their windows in shards, are not reopening.
"With things calming down, people think the situation is over," said Ms Nina Galbe, a spokeswoman for the International Red Cross. "It is far from over. There are thousands of untold stories of suffering."
To make matters worse, the US government has warned travellers to stay away from Kenya and neighbouring Tanzania, site of a second blast on Friday.
Some Kenyans see the instructions as a betrayal by the country that brought them terrorism, albeit unintentionally. More than 150,000 American tourists visit Kenya each year, and August is one of the busiest months.
"This is scaring off people," said Mr Samuel Kariuki, assistant manager of Carnivore Restaurant, a favourite Nairobi tourist destination where diners can order zebra, giraffe, crocodile and other exotic dishes. "This is still a peaceful country. It is not fair to say otherwise."
The Kenya Tourist Board, stung by the US travel advisory, has asked that it be withdrawn.
The Americans have refused. "We would be remiss if we did not put it out," countered a US official, who asked not to be identified.
President Daniel arap Moi of Kenya convened a meeting this weekend of the diplomatic community here to remind ambassadors that his country should not be further victimised by having visitors scared away.
"Even if they wanted the US embassy, they should not have targeted Kenya," Mr arap Moi said on Sunday. "Kenyans are peaceful people."