AI illustration of a couple in dowry negotiations /AI

The atmosphere during dowry negotiations is often tense. A nervous young man casts pleading glances at the bride’s family, hoping for empathy.

Meanwhile, men from both families engage in heated discussions, trying to find a middle ground. Amid the chaos, the bride stares off into the distance, lost in thought.

Today, however, it is no longer mandatory for a man to bear the full burden of dowry negotiations. Some Kenyan women are challenging tradition by choosing to pay their dowry.

Speaking to The Star, Fridah Wanjeru recounts how she ended up paying her dowry seven years ago.

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She and her then-boyfriend came from starkly different backgrounds.

Wanjeru was born into privilege, while her boyfriend’s family struggled to make ends meet.

But this disparity never shook Wanjeru’s love for him. When he proposed one evening with the best ring he could afford, she felt on top of the world.

Her parents, however, had never fully supported the relationship due to his humble background.

They believed he could barely meet his own needs and that their daughter deserved more.

When the ruracio (traditional dowry ceremony) approached, Wanjeru made the impulsive decision to pay her own dowry. Her boyfriend had worked tirelessly to raise the funds, but she knew it wouldn’t matter to her parents. Though he protested, Wanjeru stood firm in her resolve.

When her parents asked where he had gotten the money, Wanjeru casually attributed it to overwhelming support from his friends.

“I don’t regret paying my bride price for a second,” Wanjeru says with a laugh.

“I saw the potential in my boyfriend. Today, he has repaid me tenfold for the expense I incurred back then!”

For Tiffany Mwende, the circumstances were not as clear-cut. When she started dating her boyfriend, he went out of his way to show her a lavish lifestyle, high-end dinners, bi-weekly getaways, paying her bills, and even chauffeuring her to work.

After three years of dating, he proposed, and plans for the dowry ceremony began. True to his extravagant nature, he envisioned a lavish event: a convoy of luxury cars, colour-coordinated outfits, a buffet, and a mega marquee.

But cracks began to show. Whenever unexpected expenses arose, he reacted with uncharacteristic pessimism.

A week before the ceremony, Mwende’s fiancé admitted he had underestimated the costs. He had spent so much on the grandeur of the event that he hadn’t set aside money for the actual dowry price.

“Imagine being told this a week before your dowry ceremony,” Mwende recalls.

“That’s when I realised how much I loved him. I immediately rallied my friends, who gave me the funds—without knowing it was for the dowry.”

Afterwards, Mwende gave him an ultimatum: get his finances in order before their white wedding the following month or lose her. Thankfully, he took her words to heart and became more financially responsible.

But not all women are willing to take such steps.

Rita Wamuyu says she could never imagine paying her dowry. While she doesn’t judge women who do, the thought makes her cringe.

“Women already endure so much in marriage, like childbirth,” Wamuyu says. “The least a man can do is pay the dowry!”

Paul Waweru, a middle-aged man, agrees. He believes tradition dictates that a man should cover the dowry costs.

“Paying dowry is the first sign of true masculinity and leadership in an African household,” Waweru insists.

“If a man can’t show the bride’s family that he’s financially stable, how can they willingly send their daughter into a life of struggle?”

Still, with Kenya’s harsh economic realities, many young men are questioning this age-old expectation. For some, dowry negotiations feel like a trap.

It’s no secret that certain families exploit dowry ceremonies, demanding exorbitant amounts—even asking men to reimburse the cost of a woman’s education from primary school to university.

Such practices have diluted the cultural value of dowry in the eyes of many young men, driving them away from marriage altogether.

Dennis Muriuki is one such man. Unemployed for five years, he sees no sense in dowry payments.

“If I ever marry, it’ll only be through a ‘come-we-stay’ arrangement,” Muriuki says.

“Even if I had the money, why spend it on dowry with no guarantee the marriage will last? I’d rather invest it in something both my wife and I can enjoy. After all, dowry payments rarely benefit the woman directly.”