‘The jet should be scrapped’
Toronto man who lost his family in Ethiopia plane crash presses Boeing to ensure 737 Max disasters will never be repeated,
In March, Toronto resident Paul Njoroge lost his wife, three children and mother-in-law when a Boeing 737 Max airliner went down in Ethiopia. Boeing now says it wants the controversial plane back in the air by January and he’s doing everything he can to stop it
It is now mid-November. But for Paul Njoroge, it will always be March 10th.
It was on that day his world was torn apart, his family wiped out in a single stroke, as Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302 from Addis Ababa to Nairobi plunged into a field six minutes into its flight, the impact shattering the plane and killing everyone aboard, including his three children, his wife and his mother-in-law.
It was the second fatal crash of a Boeing 737 Max airliner in relatively quick succession, and the one that finally drove regulators to ground the plane world-wide, after problems with its flight control software. The quiet Toronto investment professional found himself at the centre of a media and political storm, a grieving father, husband and son-in-law to help illustrate the human toll of the disaster. Interviews followed, along with TV appearances and testimony before a U.S. congressional committee.
Now, the cameras are mostly gone. But for
Njoroge, the memory of the day keeps playing in his mind on an unrelenting loop.
“People moved on with their lives. That’s how it is. But the people who’ve been affected primarily, that is myself and the families of the victims, our lives have never moved on. I have to be told that we’re in November. My mind is always stuck in March. My mind is always in Ethiopia,” said Njoroge during a recent conversation with the Star.
When Boeing announced Nov. 11 that the 737 Max could be transporting passengers again as soon as January, he was stunned and angry.
“In honour of the 346 people who died, and out of respect for the families of the victims, the jet should be scrapped. It should be taken out of the market,” Njoroge said.
A congressional appearance in late October by Boeing CEO Dennis Muilenburg was nothing more than a cold, calculated public relations move to help clear the path for the 737 Max to
“Myself and the families of the victims, our lives have never moved on,” says Paul Njoroge, whose wife, children and mother-in-law died in the crash of Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302 on March 10.
start flying again, Njoroge believes. A claim on CNBC in early November by Boeing chair David Calhoun that “from the vantage point of our board, Dennis has done everything right,” showed the company’s true face, Njoroge said.
“Dennis Muilenburg, in those two hearings, went to the point of saying ‘we take responsibility for the mistakes that we made.’ And then, to have the chairman a few days later saying that … it is an insult to me … because it tells me these people will never own up and take responsibility for the death of the 346 victims,” said Njoroge.
According to Boeing’s own estimates, the grounding of the 737 Max will end up costing the company $9.2 billion (U.S.). It took a $5.6-billion charge in July, while the remaining $3.6 billion is additional anticipated expenses. Just under 400 737 Max planes have been delivered to customers, while Boeing has orders for another 4,500.
“Their big concern is the jet is on the ground, and they need to get it going … It just makes me wonder how human beings can be so sightless about what really happened,” said Njoroge.
The company insists it is taking steps to learn from the crashes, including making sure the Max is safe to fly.
“All of us at Boeing are deeply sorry for the loss of life, and we offer our sincere condolences. We feel the immense gravity of these events and recognize the devastation of the families and friends of the loved ones who perished,” said Boeing spokesperson Charles Bickers in an email to the Star. He added that “teams of our top engineers and technical experts” have been working with the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) for months to “ensure accidents like that of Lion Air Flight 610 and Ethiopian Airlines Flight 302 never happen again.”
Boeing has also created a $100-million fund in July to help families of the victims, Bickers said.
Njoroge’s scorn isn’t just reserved for the Boeing executives, but for people like the test pilots who noted problems with the flight control system, in a November 2016 instant message exchange.
If any employees knew the planes weren’t safe, “they should have just resigned,” Njoroge said.
After the public release of the instant message exchange in mid-October, Boeing said it regretted the difficulty regulators faced because of the exchange’s release.
“We are continuing to investigate the circumstances of this exchange, and are committed to identifying all the available facts relating to it, and to sharing those facts with the appropriate investigating and regulatory authorities,” the company said.
When he’s not consuming every bit of news coverage he can find on the 737 Max, the crashes and Boeing’s efforts to get the plane ungrounded, Njoroge’s thoughts turn to his family.
Njoroge thinks of his nine-month-old daughter Rubi, his 4-year-old daughter Kelli, and his son Ryan, 6. He thinks, too, of his wife Carol Njoroge, and her mother Ann Wangui Karanja.
“I cry, I cry a lot. I weep every day of my life,” Njoroge said, his voice wavering.
Travelling also gives him pause. When he can drive, he does, as he did when he needed to testify in Washington. When he must fly, as he did in mid-October for his wife’s funeral in Ethiopia, it pushes him into a spiral of anxiety and restlessness.
“From the time the ticket is booked, my mind is never settled,” Njoroge said. “When I fly ... I have to take some medication, so that I can sleep, and because I’m so nervous the whole time.”
As the plane reaches the point of its flight where Flight 302 was lost, Njoroge thinks of Rubi, Kelli and Ryan, and the terror which must have filled their final moments.
“The six minutes haunt me a lot. I have to look at my watch to see at what point we cross the six minutes, and what the attitude of the plane is at that point. It’s at that point I start thinking about my children,” Njoroge said.
But despite the protests of Njoroge and many others, Boeing continues to try to get the 737 Max back in the air.
The company said on Nov. 11 that it anticipates the FAA grounding order could be lifted next month, with approval for updated training — the final step before resumption of commercial flights — to follow, probably in January.
The timing for the plane’s return in Canada is even less certain. A spokesperson for Transport Canada said the agency is working with the FAA, as well as regulators in Europe and Brazil toward certifying the 737 Max as safe, but wouldn’t provide a date.
“As this review continues, it would be premature to speculate when Transport Canada will be in a position to approve the return to service of the Boeing 737 Max 8 aircraft in Canada,” said Transport Canada’s Alexandre Desjardins.
“Transport Canada will not lift the current flight restriction of the Boeing 737 Max 8 aircraft until it is fully satisfied that all concerns have been addressed by the manufacturer and the U.S. FAA, and enhanced flight crew procedures and training are in place.”
Njoroge, meanwhile, finds strength and purpose in thinking of those he lost, and making sure no one else ever suffers in the same way.
The fight to hold Boeing accountable, he says, is now what gives him purpose to get out of bed each morning.
“My wife, my children, my mother-inlaw and the other 341 victims did not deserve to die in such a tragic manner,” Njoroge said.
“Now I have to get out of my cocoon of grief and sorrow and try to motivate myself, because I can tell you this is the only thing that motivates me to continue living. I live to make sure this never happens again to another father, to another husband, to another son-in-law.”