BY FELIX ASOHA

At just 16, Stacey’s future changed overnight.

Now 18, the young mother from Mukuru kwa Ruben in Nairobi cradles her one-year-seven-month-old baby, reflecting on a life that took a different path far too soon.

“I was in Form Two when I got pregnant,” she says quietly. “Everything happened so fast.”

Her education came to an abrupt halt. In a family struggling financially, Stacey stepped aside so her older sister could finish high school first; a sacrifice that would reshape her own future.

But before she could return to class, she became pregnant.

The father, also a teenager, denied responsibility.

“When I told him, he said the child wasn’t his,” she recalls. “I accepted it because I was still living with my mother. But after that, there was no hope of going back to school.”

Today, Stacey depends on her mother, a hawker to survive. Her dream of becoming a doctor feels more distant each day.

“My plea to the government is to support teenage mothers,” she says. “Many of us are abandoned. Not all parents can help. We need training, skills; something to survive.”

Stacey’s story is not unique.

Sylvia, 19, became pregnant in 2022 while in Form Four. Like Stacey, the father, also a teenager disappeared.

“I have never heard from him again,” she says.

Now raising her child with the support of her widowed mother, Sylvia struggles daily.

“It is very hard to provide,” she says. “I wanted to be a nurse. I still do.”

Her request is simple:

“Help us go back to school. And make education affordable for our children too.”

A recent study by the African Population and Health Research Center (APHRC) paints a troubling picture.

Teenage pregnancy remains a major crisis in Kenya especially in informal settlements like Korogocho and Kawangware driven by poverty, stigma, and limited access to sexual and reproductive health education.

The consequences are severe: school dropouts, mental health struggles, and a cycle of poverty that is difficult to break.

“Many girls face stigma, rejection, and even depression after pregnancy,” explains Dr. Caroline Kabiru.

“In Sub-Saharan Africa, one in four girls becomes pregnant before 18. In Kenya, the national average is about 15 percent but in some counties, it rises to 50 percent.”

She points to multiple causes that includes lack of access to contraceptives, limited education, and sexual violence.

Despite the scale of the problem, progress remains slow.

According to Lucy Kimondo of the National Council for Population and Development (NCPD), efforts to reintegrate young mothers into school are still minimal.

“We have made progress, but it is not enough,” she says. “The number of girls returning to school is still very low.”

Kenya has policies in place including the National School Re-Entry Policy (2020) which allows teenage mothers to resume their education after childbirth.

But implementation remains weak.

“Policies are there,” Kimondo adds, “but enforcement is the real challenge.”

Experts argue that the conversation must go beyond prevention.

“What happens after pregnancy is just as important,” says Peter Muriuki.

“Even if we reduce the numbers, some girls will still get pregnant. We must support them.”

That support includes education, economic empowerment, and social acceptance.

For Wangari Ireri of the Trust for Indigenous Culture and Health (TICAH), changing attitudes is critical.

“We must stop portraying these girls as failures,” she says. “They need confidence and a second chance.”

Kenya’s Children Act 2022 reinforces this responsibility, emphasizing equal parental accountability and prioritizing the child’s best interests.

But for girls like Stacey and Sylvia, the gap between policy and reality remains wide.

As the sun sets over Mukuru kwa Ruben, Stacey holds her child close caught between lost dreams and uncertain hope.

“I still want a better life,” she says.

The question is whether the system will give her that second chance.