Dad the provider vs mum the caregiver: Who gets the credit?

On a weekday morning in many homes, the day begins in a familiar way. A woman is in the kitchen preparing breakfast, a child is being dressed for school, while a school bag is being packed, sometimes alongside a work bag. In the background, a man has had breakfast and prepares to leave for work. He is urging her to hurry, so he can drop her off at her workplace before heading to his.

It is a normal routine that speaks to society’s assumptions that men provide, while women care. Most of us grew up inside that arrangement without questioning it. It has determined who earns, who stays, who sacrifices and, often, whose labour is recognised. Provision is visible and comes with income, status and, often, authority. Care, on the other hand, is a constant rarely acknowledged. It has no payslip and no appraisal; just a daily routine.

Except that is not quite how it plays out, is it? Many women today are both providers and caregivers, carrying the double weight of income and domestic responsibility. Society still expects that even when she works, care is still hers to organise. 

No recognition

Yet, the moment a man takes over, really takes over, not just helps out, everything shifts. Tasks often dismissed as simple such as feeding children, keeping routines, managing illness, or offering emotional reassurance, suddenly look demanding. They are recognised as work and attract a lot of admiration. The same labour, when done by women, rarely receives such response.

A man raising his children alone, doing what any parent should, is often seen as exceptional. Which says everything; the work has not changed, only the person doing it has. Care has long been treated as a natural extension of womanhood rather than as a skill that can be learned, shared and respected. As a result, it is excluded from how society measures contribution.

In Kenya, women account for an estimated 25.8 billion hours of unpaid care and domestic work each year, compared to 4.8 billion hours by men, according to the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics. Behind these numbers are women who have not slept properly in years. They have let opportunities go without anybody noticing and experienced a tiredness that even a good holiday can’t fix.

The government has noticed, at least on paper. The National Care Policy talks about recognising and redistributing unpaid care, which is a start. But recognition on paper doesn’t automatically change what happens inside homes.

Family decisions

And when care is treated as the lesser work, it spills beyond the household. At the office, it is the woman whose career quietly stalls. Somewhere, someone is making decisions about family and work who has never once had to figure out who bathes the child. On parental leave policies, maternity leave is long while paternity leave is an afterthought.

In Kenya, male employees are entitled to two weeks of paid paternity leave. In practice, this period often falls short of what is needed to support a mother recovering from childbirth and adjusting to a newborn. In some cases, it becomes time away from responsibility rather than time into it. This reflects how deeply caregiving is still seen as optional for men rather than essential. But the policy is not really the problem. It goes beyond that; it is about masculinity. The idea of a man as provider remains firmly rooted and often tied to dignity and identity. When that definition is narrow, it leaves little room for men to be seen as nurturers without their role being questioned.

From an early age, boys are taught that provision defines success. It is what earns respect and a voice within the family. Caregiving, on the other hand, is rarely affirmed when men take it on. When they do, it is often read as a departure from the norm.

Many men who have actually done it, really done it, say the same thing; they had no idea about the emotional part—how much it takes to simply keep a child feeling safe and settled. There is nothing glamorous about it. It is just the same thing, every day.

Masculinity 

Expanding the definition of masculinity to include care does not weaken it. It strengthens it. It allows men to participate fully in family life, not as occasional helpers but as equal partners. It also creates space for women to engage in economic life without carrying a disproportionate burden at home.

The shift, though, goes beyond men doing more. It requires society to value care differently. As long as it is seen as less important than provision, the imbalance will persist regardless of who performs it. But times are changing as more men become visibly involved in raising their children. More conversations are also emerging about shared responsibility within households. These shifts may appear small, but they signal a gradual rethinking of roles that have long been taken for granted.

An involved father should not be headline news. Care is not extraordinary; it is essential. A man caring for his children is not a hero. A woman doing the same is not invisible.

Families need both provision and care. The real task is ensuring these roles are shared, respected and supported, because right now, one continues to be seen, and the other quietly carried.

[email protected]