- Until the next girl is discovered dead, we scroll, experience a little sadness, and then continue.However, this is the question that no one wants to publicly ask: is it women who should stay safe or men who should stop killing them?
Over the past year, many events have unfolded in Kenya, yet one issue that hasn’t received enough attention is femicide. This raises a crucial question: can we stop treating femicide in Kenya as just another tragic story, as if it’s typical?
Each time, we are taken aback, uncertain of what the next headline will say: "A young woman was discovered dead." "Her body was dumped." "Man arrested, freed on bond."
Until the next girl is found dead, we scroll past, feeling a momentary sadness before moving on. However, this is the uncomfortable question no one wants to ask publicly: should it be women who stay safe, or should men stop killing them?
The phrase "She should have been more careful" is repeated every time a woman is killed in this nation. Why don’t we instead ask why he wasn’t raised better? Where are the fathers?
Mothers often come to mind when discussing parenting. We hear, “Teach your daughters not to provoke men, to dress modestly, and not to trust boys.” But where are the fathers? Where are the brothers, uncles, and other men who should be teaching boys to be decent? Mothers shouldn’t bear the entire responsibility for raising respectful sons; it’s also a father’s job. It’s a community responsibility.
We must either teach sons to be better or teach daughters to be careful. From an early age, girls learn survival skills: don’t go it alone, don’t respond, avoid excessive drinking, and avoid wearing certain clothes.
They are told not to visit certain places or to be "too friendly." But what do boys learn? Are they taught to control their anger? Do they learn to respect others' boundaries? Do they understand how to hear "no" and accept it, or do they lash out after rejection? They should be taught to protect, not to own.
In January and February 2024, Kenya’s women marched, but were their voices heard? They rallied in Nairobi, Kisumu, and Mombasa, holding signs with the names of the deceased: Sharon, Sheila, Ivy, Catherine, Brenda, and many others. Some cheered them on, while others mocked them.
Let’s stop pretending that protecting girls is solely about curfews and clothing. It’s also about confronting a culture of male entitlement—a culture that teaches boys that girls are something they can own or destroy.
"Girls, be careful when it’s dark," they say. Yet, many of these women were murdered in their homes by their partners—by men they trusted. The darkness isn’t the threat; men who believe they own women are the real danger. Men who never learn to handle rejection. Men who aren’t taught that power does not stem from anger.
The streets will continue to engulf our daughters until we raise our boys differently. Advising girls to exercise caution is easy, but they shouldn’t have to bear that burden alone while society escapes accountability.
The government claims it will "look into it." But then what? There’s been no National Day of Mourning, no hotline, no significant policy changes, no presidential address, and not even accurate statistics. The number of women killed in Kenya simply for being female is still not accurately counted. Do we matter if we aren’t included?
Asking difficult questions is the first step toward change. For instance, what if we taught boys about consent in the same way we teach girls about fear?
What if we held men accountable not just in court, but also in our homes, churches, and schools? What if we asked men what they were thinking instead of questioning what she was wearing?
He has a duty to prevent her death, just as she does. This is not merely a "women's issue"; it’s a national problem. We will continue to bury our daughters until we recognize that the issue is male violence.
So, the next time you say, “She should have stayed home,” ask yourself instead: Why didn’t he just walk away?
Justice isn’t about silence; it’s about truth. And the truth is, Kenyan girls are dying—not because they’re careless, but because we’re careless about how we raise our boys.
