Behind every Christmas tree stands an exhausted woman
As we approach this Christmas, we must acknowledge this diverse tapestry of women's experiences and contributions.
What you need to know:
- Behind every Christmas celebration stands an exhausted woman carrying the weight of holiday perfection.
- The invisible labour ranges from grandmothers remembering every family member's favourite dish to single mothers working extra shifts for holiday treats, while teenage mothers, FGM survivors, and early marriage victims create joy despite their circumstances.
As we count down to Christmas, buildings and malls sparkle with festive lights, and carols float through the air. Yet behind these magical scenes, women across Kenya – from urban apartments to rural homesteads – shoulder the weight of holiday preparations, each carrying their own unique burdens with quiet determination.
Behind every perfectly decorated home, every sumptuous family feast, and every thoughtfully wrapped gift stands an exhausted woman bearing the weight of holiday perfection. Their stories echo across our nation, each one distinct yet somehow universal.
Sarah, a mother of three, shared a knowing laugh when I asked about her Christmas preparations. "I've been planning since October," she confessed, that familiar mix of pride and exhaustion in her voice. Meanwhile, in a quiet village in Samburu, a widow rises before dawn to fetch water and tend to her livestock, all while planning the modest celebration she hopes will bring joy to her four children. She carries the emotional weight of being both mother and father, her determination as steady as her early morning steps.
The truth is, what we call "Christmas magic" is women's invisible work – a labour of love that takes different forms across our nation. It's the grandmother in Kisii who remembers not just every grandchild's favourite dish, but the stories behind each recipe. It's the single mother in Mombasa working extra hours to afford those special holiday treats, and the young mother in Tana River, married too early, who still finds ways to create joy despite her own lost childhood.
In most households, women are the keepers of tradition and the architects of celebration. For teenage mothers in our communities, this season brings added pressure as they balance their youth with unexpected responsibilities. For survivors of FGM, the holidays stir complex emotions about tradition and change, yet they rise each day to create meaningful celebrations for their families.
The invisible load these women carry varies: urban professionals juggle family expectations with career demands, while rural women walk kilometres to market, preserving food without electricity. Single mothers and widows perform a delicate balance of playing both parental roles, their resources limited but their determination boundless.
Conversations with women across different communities reveal this universal truth: whether in penthouses or mud houses, women are meticulously orchestrating Christmas celebrations while carrying personal struggles. The teenage mother in Kilifi studying for KCSE while planning her baby's first Christmas. The widow in Nyeri maintaining holiday cheer despite her loss. The FGM survivor in Narok working to ensure her daughters have different experiences while honouring positive cultural traditions.
As we approach this Christmas, we must acknowledge this diverse tapestry of women's experiences and contributions. Creating holiday joy shouldn't be a burden borne alone – whether by a corporate executive in Nairobi or a grandmother raising orphaned grandchildren in Homa Bay.
To all the women reading this: Whether you're preparing an elaborate feast in a modern kitchen or cooking over a three-stone fire, your efforts matter. You are seen, valued, and appreciated.
And as we speak of being seen, my thoughts turn to women who feel truly invisible this Christmas – a group of women in Taveta. These Tanzanian widows, who have lived in Kenya for decades, face a Christmas season without even the basic dignity of official recognition. While many of us worry about perfecting our holiday meals, these widows have no ID cards, thus can't claim their dead husbands' pensions, inherit property, or even join women's savings groups. What kind of Christmas awaits these women who live in constant fear of losing their homes? As we rush about with our holiday preparations, they too, dream of creating festive joy for their families, but with challenges that most of us can hardly imagine.
To everyone else: The greatest gift you can give this season is to ask, "How can I help?" and then follow through with action. Let's make this Christmas season one of shared responsibilities and genuine support for all our women.
Merry Christmas to all, and may this season bring not just joy, but also rest, recognition, and justice to its many silent orchestrators, wherever they may be in our beautiful Kenya.
