In the shadows of Kware (Nairobi), memories linger like haunting echoes, painful reminders of lives lost too soon, of women whose dreams and futures were violently stolen. The brutal murders of women in our communities are not isolated incidents; they are glaring evidence of a society that continues to fail its women. For far too long, the violence has persisted, but now it has escalated to a level that leaves us, the women of Kenya, living in constant fear. Every day, another life is extinguished, another sister, daughter, mother leaving behind shattered families and an aching sense of injustice. The question that weighs heavily on all of us is this: Is being a woman a death sentence in this country?
Justice in Kenya feels like a cruel mirage, something we desperately seek but can never reach. We cry out for justice, only to be met with silence, indifference, and inaction. This silence is deafening; it screams that our lives, as women, are worth little more than fleeting headlines, fleeting outrage, and fleeting promises. Are our lives worth 100 million shillings? A million? What is the value of a woman’s life in Kenya today? Because from where we stand, it seems that value is nonexistent.
The violence we endure is not just physical; it is deeply symbolic. Every time a woman is murdered in cold blood, society sends a chilling message: women’s lives are expendable. We are not animals, yet we are slaughtered in ways so inhumane it defies understanding. It hurts profoundly to see women killed in barbaric ways, their lives snuffed out as if they were nothing more than statistics. Behind every headline is a name, a face, a story, a family left in agony. Yet, there is no uproar, no sustained outcry, no accountability.
The government issues statements, but words do not save lives. The laws exist, but where is the enforcement? Promises are made, but where are the tangible actions to protect us? It is a betrayal of the highest order when those tasked with safeguarding their citizens instead allow systemic failure to prevail. For every woman murdered, a void is left a ife that could have been lived, contributions that could have been made, children who could have grown up with their mothers. How many more must die before change becomes a reality?
Sixteen days of activism against gender-based violence are simply not enough. While these days bring attention to the issue, they are a drop in the ocean of what is truly needed. Violence against women is not confined to two weeks a year; it is a grim reality we face every single day. Every day is a day of mourning for another life lost, and every day should be a day of action. We need 365 days of activism. We need unwavering commitment because our struggle for safety, dignity, and equality cannot be constrained to symbolic gestures.
At the Bar Hostess Empowerment and Support Programme (BHESP), we refuse to let this violence and injustice define us. We refuse to let the memories of our fallen sisters fade into oblivion. We are determined to fight, to advocate, and to demand justice. Our mission is clear: to ensure that no woman has to live in fear, to challenge the structures that allow violence to persist, and to create a society where women are valued, respected, and protected.
To the government, we ask: How many more women must die before you act? How many more mothers, daughters, and sisters must be buried before you enforce the laws that already exist? Where is the accountability? The time for action is now. It is time to protect the women of this country, to ensure that perpetrators face the full force of the law, and to create a culture where violence against women is not tolerated under any circumstances.
And to society, we say: Enough is enough. Women are not objects. We are not statistics. We are human beings with dreams, ambitions, and the right to live our lives free from fear. It is time for everyone to stand together and say: No more. No more violence. No more silence. No more injustice.
Women deserve to live. We deserve to thrive. We deserve to walk our streets without looking over our shoulders, to sleep peacefully at night, and to know that our lives are valued. To every woman who has been silenced, to every life stolen, we carry your memory with us. Your lives mattered, and we will fight for you. We will fight for justice, for equality, and for a future where being a woman is not a death sentence. Because this is our country too, and we will not stop until it is a place where every woman is safe.
Story by Evy Sinmu Gai
