From carriers to leaders: The women revolutionising Kenya’s water sector

From left: Lydia Lepapa, Euphresia Luseka and Eldah Odongo. The three are transforming water access while breaking gender barriers in a traditionally male-dominated sector.
What you need to know:
- Once relegated to carrying water for kilometres, women are now revolutionising water access nationwide.
- These fearless leaders have slashed water prices by 90 per cent, challenged international donors, and shattered barriers in boardrooms where decisions are made.
- Their transformation from water carriers to water controllers is reshaping communities and reclaiming countless hours once lost to the burden of collection.
In the pre-dawn darkness of rural Kenya, a woman rises before her children. By the time the first light breaks across the horizon, she will have already walked four kilometres, a yellow jerry can balanced precariously on her head. Three hours of her day—every day—devoted to water. Meanwhile, in the sprawling informal settlements of Nairobi, another woman stands in line at a community water point, her infant strapped to her back, hoping the supply hasn't been cut off again this week. Two women, different circumstances, united by a single truth: water dictates their existence.
For centuries, water has been both life-source and burden for women worldwide. The daily ritual of collection isn't merely a household chore—it's a complex intersection of gender inequality, economic opportunity, and human dignity playing out one bucket at a time. This invisible tax, paid in footsteps and hours that will never be recovered, shapes women's time, opportunities, and sometimes their very survival.

A woman fetches water from a river in this file photo. For centuries, water has been both life-source and burden for women worldwide.
Yet, as we commemorate World Water Day tomorrow, a quiet revolution is taking place. Women are no longer just carrying water; they are leading conversations, making policies, and challenging systems that have historically side-lined them. The spotlight now turns to those who are taking control—transforming water accessibility from a distant hope into tangible reality, and with it, reclaiming their freedom and potential.
The price of water: Lydia Lepapa transforms Kajiado

Lydia has united women's groups in Kajiado County to address water problems across different locations.
"Initially, women would walk long distances to fetch water and were charged either Sh40 or Sh50 for a 20-litre jerrican," recalls Lydia Lepapa, describing the reality for women in Kajiado before her intervention.
This exorbitant price tag—which often included motorbike transport costs—was more than just a financial burden. It represented hours of a woman's day, conflicts at home when other duties remained unattended, and a system that placed women's needs last.
"In the past, especially during drought, a woman had to wait for cows and goats to take water before she could draw," Lydia explains, highlighting how deeply gender inequality was embedded in water access.
Growing up in Kajiado, Lydia experienced these challenges first-hand, going far to fetch water herself. This fuelled her determination "to ensure that at least the next generation of women and girls would have water nearby."
Her opportunity for change came unexpectedly, beginning with her own household. After marriage, she discovered her father-in-law had previously attempted to bring tap water home, but the system had broken down.
"My husband and I started lobbying to bring the water back, and we did the piping again so that we could get tap water outside our house," she says.
This small victory catalysed something much bigger.
In 2019, the Naishorua Self-Help Group was born, initially focusing on kitchen gardening after some merry-go-rounds. Recognising that water remained their fundamental challenge, Lydia partnered with Neighbours Initiative Alliance and Simavi (an entity that works with women and girls in Africa and Asia on local solutions for clean drinking water and safe toilets for all) to extend pipes and set up a tokenised water kiosk at Olenarau village.
The results were transformative. Women now pay only Sh5 for a 20-litre jerrican—a 90 per cent reduction that has changed both household economics and family dynamics. The water kiosk has evolved beyond basic access to become an income-generating activity that helps families pay school fees and support the elderly.
As a Maasai community women leader managing Kajiado water projects, Lydia has united women's groups to address water problems across different locations. Most importantly, women now "have a voice in the management committees of the boreholes."
Despite this progress, she insists "there is still a long way to go in ensuring women have the right to water." Her message to women is clear: as the biggest beneficiaries of water, they shouldn't "shy away from occupying leadership positions in water advocacy."
Challenging status quo: Euphresia Luseka's strategic revolution

Euphresia Luseka is the Director, Governance and Markets Systems Development at USAid. She fights for the rights of women in the water industry.
"At the beginning, my colleagues were like, 'Look at this girl telling donors to their faces that their money is not doing the right thing for us,'" says Euphresia Luseka, recalling the resistance she faced when she began questioning international water development practices.
As Director of Governance and Markets Systems Development at USAid, with 15 years in the field, Euphresia has built her career on challenging assumptions—both about water projects and about women's capabilities.
Her journey began before graduation when a lecturer recruited her to work on a curriculum project addressing energy, food, and sanitation. This sparked her realisation that "all these three components require water."
Walking through slums, she witnessed the reality of water scarcity in "the long queues people made" at water points.
This was her "aha" moment. She subsequently joined an organisation focused on water, starting from a junior position and working her way up through a male-dominated industry where women are frequently marginalised.
"They assume you are not among the experts," she explains. "Sometimes they could even tell you, 'Could you go and check for us the tea?' And there is a man seated next to the door while I am seated further in the room, you know..."
This experience reflects a broader pattern where "women are often left out of decision-making, policies, budgets, and infrastructure planning," despite being "the backbone of water management at the household and community levels."
Another significant challenge Euphresia identifies is "the politics of water." As she puts it: "Everyone agrees that water is life until it comes to funding the projects, enforcing regulations, or making tough governance decisions. Then you have to navigate bureaucracies, inefficiencies, and sometimes the slow-moving wheels of change."
The greatest misconception she encounters is the belief that women aren't qualified for water sector work — "That mentality that it's a man's job. So, why are women even here? What can she be able to do?"
Despite these barriers, she has established herself as a force in the sector.
"I no longer need an introduction in my speech. People at global and regional levels know who I am," she says with earned confidence.
Her impact was formally recognised in 2023 when she won the Women on Boards Network Awards, defeating women from other industries. Among her proudest achievements is completing "more than 30 county government water policies," work that was "ground-breaking because it was a requirement for them to get budgets from the National Treasury."
Poor quality
These accomplishments didn't come easily. "Sitting with legislators for the first time—the Members of County Assembly (MCAs)—was not easy because most of these seats are occupied by men," she notes.
Perhaps most significantly, she has challenged the donor-recipient dynamic in water development. She's confronted donors directly about projects with questionable impacts: "You're pretending to come in and drill boreholes, and probably the water quality is shady. Our kids might be drowning in your water resources. Or maybe the water is killing people because the quality is poor..."
She points to sustainability issues as well: "We get infrastructure for one year, then you hear the borehole collapsed, and we have to dig a new one."
This courageous stance has shifted the conversation. "We started to question a lot of things in the sector and how we want to engage with donors better," Euphresia explains, demonstrating how one woman's willingness to speak truth to power can begin to transform an entire system.
Feminine but firm: Eldah Odongo builds networks of change

Eldah Odongo, chairperson of the Women in Water and Sanitation Association (Wiwas-Kenya).
"The effects of climate change are now real and tougher. Women in rural areas travel long distances to get water because the streams that once ran behind their houses are drying up," observes Eldah Odongo, highlighting how environmental changes are intensifying women's water burdens.
Eldah's path to water sector leadership began with a desire to serve humanity from a young age. Her name, meaning "elder," seemed to presage her leadership role. After beginning her career in banking, she transitioned to the water industry as customer care manager at Kisumu Water and Sanitation Company.
Last year marked a significant milestone when she was elected Chairlady of the Women in Water and Sanitation Association (Wiwas-Kenya), a position focused on mentoring and amplifying women's voices in the water sector.
The association addresses a need she identified through her own experiences: "The need for the association was also to help women network because we realised they do not have the leisure to socialise due to motherly and wifely responsibilities on their shoulders."
Though Wiwas-Kenya now includes male champions supporting its mission, Eldah remains clear-eyed about the challenges women face in the industry. Some challenges come from within—women "being comfortable in their current roles and not pushing for the next opportunities." Others are imposed by a system designed to exclude.
"For example, a female engineer may be hosted with 10 other men, and when it is time to go out into the field, her colleagues nudge her to remain behind and do reports instead of going into the pipes," she explains, illustrating how subtle exclusion limits women's professional development.
The double standard is equally frustrating: "Women are also expected to work twice as hard to be considered competent, even when male colleagues are slacking."
As one of only two women in a top management team of seven men at Kisumu Water and Sanitation Company (Kiwasco) Eldah has developed a leadership approach she recommends to other women: be "firm yet not lose their femininity."
Water budgets
Her practical solutions to water security encompass education, infrastructure, and environmental conservation. She emphasises educating students "across primary to university levels on preserving water catchment areas and water conservation," alongside tree planting and nurturing initiatives.
Resource allocation is another critical focus. "Water budgets need to be sufficient because it requires a lot of infrastructure to ensure water is running in a county," she explains.
With recent donor funding withdrawals, she warns that projects risk becoming "white elephants unless the national or county governments allocate resources to complete them."
Throughout her career, Eldah has helped Kiwasco win national and international awards, secure scholarships for 10 children, and lead a greening initiative to reclaim Kajulu Hills in Kisumu County. Yet, like her counterparts across Kenya, she knows the work of ensuring water security — especially for women — is far from complete.
wkanuri@ke.nationmedia.com