In many Kenyan homes, love is rarely spoken. It is implied, assumed, or buried under layers of duty, discipline, sacrifice, or silence. Parents love their children, partners love each other, friends care deeply — but few say it, fewer show it boldly, and even fewer know how to receive it. Love, in this context, often feels like a secret: important but unspoken, present but repressed. It comes with caveats — be obedient, be strong, be quiet. For many, this upbringing makes the language of love feel foreign, even embarrassing. But what happens to a people who are never taught to name, receive, or offer love freely? And more importantly — how do we begin to change that? 1. The Emotional Landscape We Inherited Our cultural and generational inheritance around love is complicated. Colonial violence, economic hardship, patriarchal norms, and religious rigidity shaped how love was expressed — or not. Many parents focused on survival, not softness. Love was food on the table, school fees paid, ...
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