When Sarah, a mother of two teenage boys, recently admitted that she regrets “gentle parenting” her children, I paused. “If I had a do-over,” she said, “I’d definitely not spare the rod.” Her words echo a growing tension in many modern homes where the parenting pendulum swings between softness and structure, empathy and enforcement.
The rise of gentle or responsive parenting — marked by empathy, open communication, and mutual respect — has been lauded as progressive and emotionally intelligent. But what happens when these softly-sown seeds grow into teens who challenge boundaries or flout rules? Some parents, like Sarah, find themselves wondering if being too soft robbed their children of essential lessons in accountability.
On the flip side, many who were raised with “tough love” — where discipline was swift and emotions weren’t always validated, are determined to do things differently with their children. Still, they, too, sometimes wonder if they are too zealous with the rod.
This story dives deep into that inner parental tug-of-war: between nurturing connection and enforcing correction. Can you be firm without being feared — or kind without being walked over?
We talk to four parents navigating this terrain and a child therapist who offers clarity on the long-term impact of both approaches.
Daisy Mwende: The more I pushed, the more he got defiant
Daisy Mwende.
Photo credit: George D Mwendwa | Nation Media Group
Parenting two teenage boys in today’s Gen Z era? It’s no walk in the park. That’s why I’ve had to blend authoritative parenting with a tough love approach. Boys need structure, but they also need a heart that listens. And sometimes, the line between firmness and connection gets painfully blurry.
I was raised the millennial way—strict and no-nonsense. My parents didn’t tolerate indiscipline. I was caned until high school, and truthfully, that discipline shaped the adult I am today. Naturally, I leaned into that same model while raising my sons.
In many ways, it’s worked. I’m proud of how responsible and respectful my boys have become. They’re courteous to both the young and old, and they know where boundaries lie. That discipline, rooted in love, gave them structure.
But it hasn’t always been smooth. I remember one moment vividly—my firstborn had a friend I didn’t approve of. I tried everything to separate them. The more I pushed, the more defiant he became. I’d find them together even after countless talks. It broke me. I finally reached out to his Sunday school teacher, hoping a familiar voice would get through. That experience opened my eyes.
I realised I was talking at him, not to him. I was losing my son. From then on, I chose connection over control. I now remind my boys that while I’m their mum, I’m also their friend. I want them to feel safe sharing anything with me—no shame, no fear.
Still, there are challenges. Teen moods shift like Nairobi weather, and screen time steals most of their hours. It’s hard to know when the “right time” for a heart-to-heart is.
As both an African and a Christian, I once held tightly to the idea that sparing the rod spoils the child. But today’s generation responds better to understanding. If I could go back, I’d try gentle parenting much earlier.
To any struggling parent: It’s not easy. But God’s grace truly is sufficient. Pray for your children. Show love. Ask for wisdom. And never forget—your voice still matters in their lives, even when it feels like it doesn’t.
Nissie Imano: I discipline to build, not break
Nissie Imano.
Photo credit: George D Mwendwa | Nation Media Group
My parenting style? A mix. And that’s intentional. I believe there’s a time to be gentle, a time to be firm, and yes, even a time for tough love. Each moment calls for something different, and over the years, I’ve learnt to read the season I’m in with my daughters.
I think I’m this way because of my parents. My mum was a gentle nurturer. My dad, on the other hand, was a disciplined man from the forces—firm, structured, and clear about expectations. That mix formed me. I appreciated both voices in my upbringing, and now, they echo in my parenting.
Raising girls has mostly been smooth, especially in their younger years. I think girls are relatively easy to mould. That said, I knew the importance of balance. I needed to show them that I loved and supported them, but I also had to teach them that life isn’t always soft. That choices come with consequences.
Gentle parenting fosters trust, but tough love builds resilience. I’ve been deliberate in making sure my girls know that discipline isn’t punishment. It’s guidance. And yes, they need a lot of that. I’ve stayed consistent with our values, but I’ve also allowed room for grace, because growth isn’t linear.
Still, teenagehood brings its storms. Peer pressure is real. Even when your child loves and listens to you, the pull to fit in with friends can be overwhelming. And then there’s social media—the unfiltered, constant stream of influence. That’s why I try to make sure my voice is louder, clearer, and rooted in truth.
My faith shapes everything. The Bible teaches grace, empathy, and also discipline—not destruction, but correction. I discipline in love, not to break but to build. That’s my goal.
Looking back, I don’t regret how I parented. I did the best I could with what I knew. Now, I keep learning and adjusting as my children grow.
To new parents: find your rhythm. Your child isn’t a copy of anyone else’s. Some respond to gentleness, others to firmness. Don’t be hard on yourself—we’re all learning. And when you know better, you’ll do better.
Mwau Brian: My wife influenced me to be a calm parent
Brian Mwau.
Photo credit: George D Mwendwa | Nation Media Group
I lean strongly towards gentle parenting, mainly because our son, Taifa, is only two years old. At this stage, gentleness isn’t just effective; it’s the most natural way for him to understand the world. It allows us to meet him where he is emotionally, without fear or confusion, building a relationship rooted in trust.
My wife has been a major influence in this approach. Watching how she communicates with him—with intention, warmth, and consistency—has taught me the power of calm parenting. Because of her, I’ve seen how this environment nurtures Taifa’s confidence and curiosity. He feels safe to try, fail, and try again.
Before turning two, Taifa could read simple words, greet people, count, describe the weather, and name colours and objects. These milestones are not by accident. We consistently exposed him to pictorial books and age-appropriate educational videos—and he responded brilliantly.
Of course, we’ve had moments where our approach felt ineffective. We bought a fancy baby cot when he was just a few months old. He never spent a night in it, not even after our most persistent attempts. That experience taught us a valuable parenting lesson: our expectations must always meet our child’s actual needs.
Instead of pushing our way through, we started listening more. We became flexible. We learned that not everything will go as planned, and that’s okay. Now, even when correcting him, we communicate calmly and assure him that he’s loved—discipline without disconnection.
Our parenting style is deeply anchored in our Christian faith. Proverbs 13:24 reminds us that love includes correction. At just two, Taifa leads prayer before meals and bedtime because he watches us do the same.
If I could do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing. God has led us this far, and I’m so grateful. My wife, has been our son’s first and best teacher. She’s even written a book to share our journey with other parents.
To any new parent trying to balance softness and firmness: Be present, kind and consistent. That’s how love leads, and discipline follows.
Bernard Maina: I was raised military-style
Bernard Maina.
Photo credit: George Mwandwa | Nation Media Group
I lean towards a gentle and interactive parenting style, infused with love. I believe children learn more by observing than by being forced. I teach boundaries with firmness, but always correct in love. My goal is to nurture children who feel safe and confident enough to come to me—whether they’ve succeeded or messed up.
What shaped this approach? A mix of mentors and the realities of today’s world. I was raised in a military-style home. We were punished even for mistakes we were “about to make.” It instilled discipline, yes—but also fear. That fear killed the emotional bond I could have had with my parents. I knew I had to do things differently. I want my children to talk to me freely about anything bothering them, without fear of judgment.
And I’m proud to say, it’s working. My kids don’t run away when I walk into a room—they run to me. We laugh together, they share their thoughts, and I get to hear the unfiltered version of their lives. That’s priceless.
But gentle parenting isn’t without its hiccups. There have been times when my children started taking advantage of my softness. They’d learned how I respond to mistakes—and used it to dodge accountability. That’s when I had to recalibrate.
I sat each one down and, with firmness, explained what was at stake if the behaviour continued. I reminded them of the privileges they stood to lose. I also introduced a few tougher consequences—nothing harsh, just effective. Boundaries have to be clear, and consistently enforced.
My faith plays a central role. It teaches me to raise my children in the ways of the Lord. My culture also reminds me that if I don’t discipline them now, the world will, harshly.
Would I change anything? No. My style flows from who I am, and it’s bearing fruit.
To new parents struggling with balance: don’t let your love blind you. Your babygirl or kababa is just that—to you. The world doesn’t see them that way. Be gentle, yes—but be firm. Love them enough to parent them fully.
