I grew up in a large family in rural Western Kenya with more than 10 siblings and a huge, extended family of cousins, uncles, and aunts whose lives were closely intertwined with mine. Father was a civil servant and my mother taught kindergarten. As a little girl, I often accompanied her to work. I learned early on the value and power of education. Most of my teen years were spent away from home at Christian boarding schools that were strict, orderly, and extremely conservative and guarded. However, when I was in junior high school, two incidents in my village had a profound impact on me.
The first was the rape of my 14-year-old neighbor. I remember people talking about this in hushed tones. No punishment was ever meted out to the perpetrator and an out-of-court settlement was reached; the family got a bull as compensation. As a child I often wondered what relief the bull provided from a traumatic experience that changed her life forever.
The second was the pregnancy of my cousin. The image of this young girl holding onto a baby—a child mother of another child, not understanding that her life would change forever—stayed with me for a long time. A girl in such a situation would drop out of school, maybe get married off to an older man.
For these two girls, the stigma that comes with sexual assault and with a teenage pregnancy and early motherhood shattered their dreams and aspirations. Growing up it dawned on me just how unprepared most girls are to deal with sexuality and the challenges that women and girls face. No one had given the two girls (or any of us for that matter) the skills or tools that would have helped them deal with the challenges unique to young women. Of course there was always the warning, both at school and at home, to stay away from boys—but little more.
After college I took a job at the Centre for the Study of Adolescence. I worked with young people, especially young girls, designing programs and developing tools that would empower them to make the right decisions, transition into adulthood without fear, and navigate life during an exciting but turbulent period. I soon realized that this was not so easy. Since then, it has been my quest to create policy and the legal framework and environment so girls have a chance to grow up, live their lives, achieve their dreams, and reach their full potential.
Today, I feel hopeful. At PATH we are developing programs that are improving the health and general well-being of women and girls. Programs that target communities and influence decision-makers who can help women and girls lead safe and fulfilling lives, free from harmful practices such as early marriage and female genital mutilation. These are practices that not only limit women, but predispose them to HIV infection, unplanned pregnancies, and other life-threatening situations. What we need to do is reduce their risk of unprotected sex and delay teen pregnancy, keeping girls in school longer and reducing their vulnerability to sexual exploitation.
Photo Credit: Eric Becker
