(A true story shared with courage and hope)
It was one cold Saturday afternoon in November 1996 when my life changed forever.
My twin brother and I were just kids when our parents asked us to get ready for a short afternoon drive. It seemed odd—the weather wasn’t great, and they didn’t tell us where we were going. But we obeyed.
Eventually, we arrived at a quiet village with scattered homes. An elderly woman welcomed us warmly. My mother held my hand and led me inside. My brother and father stayed outside. I heard my mum say we wouldn’t be long—about twenty minutes.
Inside the house, something happened that I wasn’t prepared for. I was asked to lie down on a cloth on the floor. I looked at my mum, afraid. She held my hands gently and told me to trust her.
That day, I went through female genital mutilation (FGM)—a harmful and painful practice that left not only physical scars but emotional ones too. I didn’t understand it then, but it would take me years to truly process what had happened.
Later, I found out that my twin brother had also been circumcised, but in a hospital. For him, it was considered “medical.” But for me, it was something I had no choice in—and it was deeply traumatic.
Afterwards, we were taken to a special house to “heal.” We stayed there for weeks, away from school, friends, and the rest of our family. We were taught certain things about growing up and womanhood. And at the end, there was a celebration to mark our “transition.”
But inside, I felt broken.
Years passed. I tried to move on. But the pain followed me quietly. In 2009, I fell into depression and even attempted to take my own life. Thankfully, I survived—and that survival became my turning point.
With time, support, and therapy, I began to heal. And with healing came purpose.
I decided that no other girl should have to go through what I did—especially not in silence. That’s when I started using my voice and my story to speak out. I began a movement to educate girls and young women about their rights, their bodies, and how to protect themselves from harmful practices like FGM/C.
As the former Chair of the National Youth Anti-FGM Network in Kenya, under The Girl Generation, I have led awareness campaigns, mentored girls aged 11 to 25, and trained youth advocates to use their voices for change.
Why am I sharing this with you today?
Because your voice matters.
Because your story—whatever it may be—is powerful.
Because no girl should suffer in silence.
To the girls here: You have the right to say no. You have the right to understand your body, your health, and your future.
To the organizations here: Let’s continue creating safe spaces for survivors and stronger platforms for prevention.
Let’s end FGM—not just in Kenya, but everywhere.
One story. One girl. One brave voice at a time.
