In Kenya, few social realities are as visible — and as normalized — as single motherhood. Walk into any Kenyan town, village, or estate and you will hear it: “single mother.” It rolls off tongues with ease, as if it were the most natural title in the world. It carries weight, stigma, sometimes pity, sometimes pride. We hear phrases like “I was raised by a single mother” or “She’s doing it all on her own” so often that they hardly spark a second thought. But pause for a moment: why does the phrase exist in the first place? Why is there no equal and opposite phrase — “absentee father” — that carries the same recognition, the same punch, the same weight in society?
This question matters because it reveals not just our family structures, but also our values as a people.
The Normalization of “Single Mother”
In Kenya, the term single mother has become so normalized that it is almost part of our cultural vocabulary. It is said casually, often with judgment lurking just beneath the surface. Yet the absence of fathers is just as widespread — and far more impactful.
But instead of pointing the lens at men, society redirects it onto women, who are left to carry both the title and the responsibility. Women become the face of broken families while men disappear into anonymity, their irresponsibility swallowed in silence.
What Foreigners Notice That We Don’t
The other day, a foreigner asked me why there are so many single mothers in Kenya. For them, single motherhood is such a rare, almost alien concept that it felt shocking. But what struck me most was not the question itself, but the follow-ups: Are these women single by choice? Or are the men simply irresponsible? In that moment, I realized something unsettling — outsiders immediately notice the role men play, while we, so accustomed to this reality, push it aside and only frame the story around the women.
This reveals something about us as a people. We have normalized the idea of women raising children alone, to the point that it has become the story. We ask how women cope, how they survive, how they juggle work and family. But rarely do we ask: Where are the men? What does it say about us that their absence is unremarkable?
Sustainability: A Silent Crisis
The sustainability question then looms large. Is it sustainable for so many households to function without present, responsible fathers? What does this mean for children growing up in such contexts — socially, emotionally, even economically? And what does it reveal about the deep fractures in how we approach family, responsibility, and manhood?
Abroad, fatherhood is often tethered tightly to identity, social obligation, even state-enforced accountability. Here, fatherhood feels almost optional, negotiable, and too often abandoned. It’s a cultural blind spot we’ve learned to live with, even as it quietly reshapes the structure of our society.
The Deeper Reflection
This isn’t just about family. It is about language. Words shape perception. By naming women single mothers and leaving men unnamed, we inadvertently excuse the men and penalize the women. We allow irresponsibility to hide in plain sight.
The truth is, for every single mother, there is an absent father. But only one side is visible, only one side is named, only one side is judged.
The epidemic, then, is not single motherhood. The epidemic is absentee fatherhood — and our collective silence about it. Until we call it what it is, we will continue to cushion men from responsibility while burdening women with both the blame and the load.
Closing Question
So perhaps the next time we reach for the phrase single mother, we should pause and ask: where is the father? Why don’t we name him too? Why don’t we say absentee father with the same casualness, the same frequency, the same weight?
Until we shift the language, we will continue to tell only half the story — and place the burden on the very people already carrying the heavier load.
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