For 15 years, Lilian Onyango had never spent a night away from her son. As a day-school parent, she had watched him grow from kindergarten to Class Eight while living under the same roof. But that changed when he received an admission letter to a boarding secondary school in Homa Bay County, nearly 370 kilometres from Nairobi.
“The night before we travelled to school, I wanted to make it memorable. I made his favourite meal, and we talked for hours, but I could see my son was tense. We were going to be apart for three months for the very first time,” she said.
Lilian Onyango, a mother of one, reveals how traumatized she was after taking her son to a boarding school for his secondary education.
Photo credit: Pool
When it was finally time to leave him at school, the separation felt unbearable.
“I was trying so hard not to cry. My son told me, ‘Mum, I will be okay,’ but both of us were hurting. It was so hard to say bye. On the night bus coming back to Nairobi, I just felt like alighting, pulling my son from school and going home with him,” she says.
Lilian had no one to go home to. Her husband had died when their son was aged 10, and she chose not to remarry. “I kept changing the TV channels and counting days to Saturday when I would talk to my son,” she says.
After four years, her son completed secondary education. When he was to join the university, the two mutually agreed that the son would commute rather than stay at the hostels. Lilian is now in her early 50s while her 21-year-old son is in his fourth-year at the university.
“My son sometimes tells me, ‘Mum, start thinking of getting a boyfriend because when I leave, you will be very lonely in this house.’ I have been trying to find something to do besides my routine job to keep myself busy,” says Lilian.
For many parents, children leaving home triggers a difficult emotional transition commonly referred to as empty nest syndrome. Much like retirement, bereavement, or separation, it forces parents to redefine their routines, identities, and emotional connections.
At 72, Elizabeth Mbati understands this reality all too well. She had her five children in quick succession between 1978 and 1988. During those years, she was busy raising children and teaching. When her sister died, she adopted her daughter. Her home was now full and chaotic with six children under her care. There was always noise, one baby jumping from one corner of the house to the other, calling her mummy.
“We did not have daycare centres those days, so there were times I would carry my children to the school where I was teaching,” she says. Elizabeth is glad that her children, now aged between 47 and 36 years, grew up together, but gradually they started moving out. Some got married, others went abroad for studies and the once lively home slowly became quiet.
“My son was the first one to move out when he married, but he kept in close contact for a while. He once told me, “Mum, we shall now be talking on the phone.” Now, it can even take one month before I see them. It was very difficult to adjust,” she says.
Because her children were close in age, their departures happened almost simultaneously. Elizabeth tried holding family lunches to preserve the closeness she had always known, but adulthood came with competing responsibilities.
“I would invite them to come share a meal, but they were either travelling or unavailable on that day. I tried that for about three years, then I stopped because each one of them had things they were handling,” she says. Her youngest daughter went for further studies in France just after completing Form Four, and she now lives there. With the time difference and long distance, communication becomes a challenge.
Now retired, Elizabeth spends much of her time teaching mathematics and English to Grade Four, Five and Six pupils at Alpha Glory Community Educational Centre, a facility she founded.
“I still wake up early to go to school. It eases a bit of my loneliness. In fact, I eat a late lunch in school, at around 3pm, so that when I go to the house, I can just sleep,” she says.
Still, the quietness at home often feels overwhelming.
“It is hardest when I am unwell, knowing that my children cannot pop into my bedroom to find out how I am doing. They visit and leave. They tell me not to bother about them because they are of age. I miss that time when I could hold my children close,” she says.
Elizabeth believes many ageing parents experience loneliness because their social circles also shrink over time. “The same way people prepare financially for retirement, we should also prepare emotionally for the day children leave home,” she says. “Like at my age now, it is not easy to attend the chamas where I am a member. I send somebody to represent me because my body has slowed down.
Learning to rediscover life
Alfred Safari Deri, 60, lives in Kilifi County. In his sunset years, all he does is spend time with his wife. After raising seven children over three decades, their home is now largely quiet except for occasional visits from grandchildren.
“My firstborn is now 39 years old, and my lastborn is in Form Three. At my age, I feel content and happy to spend time with my wife without thinking too hard about how to get money to educate my children. But now there is loneliness at home because there are no children,” he says.
Alfred, who recently retired from his job as a chief, says the children’s departure has recalibrated his life and that of his wife.
“I miss the daily interaction with my children because I could correct them whenever they went wrong. It was also comforting to have people around the house,” he says.
Alfred has started a fishpond project that now keeps him and his wife active. Their grandchildren always look forward to spending the holidays there whenever schools are closed.
“I am happy that my children bring their children to stay with us. Because they are very young, they think I do not know anything. They are always telling me about things they want me to do with the children. We also go fishing together with my grandchildren and enjoy eating fish from our pond.”
When they are alone, the couple watches the news in silence to stay updated, and they also participate in church activities where Alfred is a pastor. “It reminds us of how we started our family life as only two people. If one of us is away for hours or days, the other one feels very lonely,” says Alfred.
Preparing for the transition
For Rose Gichohi, a retired teacher from Kiambu County, preparing in advance for her children’s independence made the transition easier. Her son, who is the second born, was the first to leave after graduating from university and securing employment.
Rose Njoroge and other women during a fitness session at a homestead along Kiambu Road in Kiambu on April 2, 2025.
Photo credit: Pool
“He and his friends decided to move out of their parents’ homes. He just told me, ‘Mum, I’m moving out,’ and although it was difficult, we supported him,” says the 63-year-old mother of two.
Unlike her firstborn, who studied in boarding school, her youngest child went to day schools all his life. So even after she moved out, she continued mothering him. At first, Rose worried constantly about whether he was eating properly and would invite him home to eat’.
“I would invite him over on weekends, and I would cook cereals which I insisted he take with him to school. One day, he told me he mostly ate in hotels and hardly ever touched the food I often sent him to campus with,” she says, laughing.
Even when he is away, her son calls home often to check on his mum. Rose’s daughter, who is the firstborn, stayed home after her brother moved out, but eventually she also left after getting a job far away from home.
“Her job required that she live at least five kilometres from her workplace because of night shifts. When she left, things changed completely because it was just my husband and I, and our jobs,” Rose, who got her first baby when she was 19, says.
Rose now stays with her nephew, who works from home. After she retired, she founded a crocheting and knitting group where she is a trainer. This keeps her occupied.
“Knitting has been my childhood passion, and I took it seriously when I was expecting my firstborn because in those days, we did not have secondhand clothes. I made a lot of clothes during that time,” she recalls.
Rose Njoroge knits at a homestead along Kiambu Road in Kiambu on April 2, 2025.
Photo credit: Wilfred Nyangaresi | Nation Media Group
According to psychologist Paulyne Kariru, many parents are caught unprepared by the emotional shock that follows when children leave home. “Parents often build their entire lives around their children,” she explains. “Then one day the last child leaves, and they suddenly realise how much their identity depended on parenting.”
She encourages parents who find themselves in this situation to adjust by first accepting the transition. She describes empty nest syndrome as a form of grief. “It is a grief of some sort because things will never be the way they were. It is a whole new world. You will miss the good times you had when your children were young, and they would follow you everywhere.”
To cope with the transition, Paulyne encourages parents to form friendships with their adult children, shift from controlling them to connecting with them, and psychologically prepare to offer guidance rather than strict parenting.
“Intentionally rediscover yourself before your children leave. Rediscover your hobbies or get involved in your local church. If you had put your career on hold, get back to it or start a business.
And if you are married, start being intentional about reconnecting with your partner outside raising children because now you have time. It is a new phase of life,” she says. “Painful at first, but also normal.”
