Purity Nthiana is a Human Rights Defender

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Every year, there is a lot of noise and voices claiming to stand for life. The chants are loud, the messaging confident, the intent seemingly clear.

But beneath all that passion lies a question we rarely stop to ask: whose life are we actually talking about? Because in Kenya, these conversations end before they reach the people most affected.

They rarely sit with the girl forced out of school, the woman denied essential healthcare, or the families navigating deeply personal decisions in silence.

“Pro-life” becomes a statement made about people, not with them. The truth is life is not a slogan.

It is lived daily, imperfectly, and often under pressure. It looks like access to accurate information, the ability to seek safe and respectful healthcare, and the freedom to make decisions without fear or shame. It looks like dignity, especially when circumstances are complex.

We cannot simply look at it as right or wrong or a one-size-fits-all issue. When we reduce life to a single narrative, we erase these realities, ignoring the fact that protecting life must also mean protecting health, autonomy, and opportunity. Without these, the word “life” becomes hollow and disconnected from the lived experiences of many Kenyans.

What we need now is a shift. A move away from declarations that sound good in public toward conversations that are honest and inclusive. A shift from control to care, from judgment to dignity. Because protection that comes without empathy is not protection at all.

In this context, empathy means recognizing that behind every “issue” is a human being with a story. It means understanding that decisions around health, rights, and life are rarely simple.

They are shaped by circumstances, pressure, fear, hope, and survival. Empathy is choosing to see people as people first — not as debates, not as statistics, and not as problems to be solved.

If we are serious about defending life, then we must be equally serious about the conditions that allow people to live fully.

That means recognising that rights are not a threat to life, but are part of what sustains it. Beyond the march, beyond the noise, what remains is not the slogans but the impact.

The question we must keep asking ourselves is simple: are we protecting life, or are we controlling it?

Nthiana is a Human Rights Defender