The hidden burden: Inside the daily lives of the superhuman women of Pokot
Sabina Komole makes necklaces with beads on September 15, 2022 at Morpus in West Pokot. In the Pokot community, women traditionally shoulder an overwhelming burden of responsibilities.
What you need to know:
- In the Pokot community, women traditionally shoulder an overwhelming burden of responsibilities, from building houses with bare hands to caring for children and livestock.
- A typical day for these women starts at 4am and ends at 9pm, filled with gruelling tasks like walking five hours for water and milking more than 20 cows.
- While traditional gender roles remain deeply entrenched in rural areas, there's growing hope for change as some families begin to question and abandon these practices.
Ann Chepurai's calloused hands tell a story of resilience. For the past decade, she has single-handedly shouldered the responsibility of feeding her eight children, while her husband's only concern has been tending to the family's livestock. Her day begins in the pitch darkness at 4 am, hours before the rest of her household stirs.
"I have been toiling for the past ten years just to feed my family," says the 46-year-old, her voice carrying the weight of countless early mornings and endless responsibilities. "Water points are not near. One has to walk for four to five hours to get water."
Dawn breaks over her round, grass-thatched house as Chepurai begins her daily ritual. She carefully removes bedding to air it on thorny bushes outside, her movements precise and practiced. The morning air fills with the sound of crackling fire as she prepares her milking tools – a task that in many communities would fall to men, but here is just another of her countless responsibilities.
Her first concern is always the livestock. She walks to the cow shed, counting heads to ensure all animals are present. Then begins the laborious process of milking both cows and goats before releasing them for grazing. By 10 am, when she lets the kids guide the animals to pasture, her husband has already left to join other men in their daily "Lokoi" – community discussions where they sit on traditional stools called 'Kaideke' under the shade of trees.
The quiet of late morning brings no rest. Around 11 am, Chepurai sets out again, this time searching for pasture and water for the calves. Upon return, she washes the guards (traditional milk containers) while preparing lunch – typically milk and meat – for her husband's return. A brief respite follows the midday meal, but even this 'rest' time is often spent grinding millet or maize between two stones, preparing for evening meals.
The construction of their homes falls squarely on women's shoulders. With bare hands, they gather materials and weave together grass-thatched round houses. "Sometimes men disappear even for one year without coming back home, and as a woman, she will still repair her house if it collapses," explains elder Masta Koiles. Women often form informal cooperatives, pooling their strength and skills to build each other's homes. This solidarity has become their lifeline in a culture where men's roles remain rigidly defined as herders and warriors.
As evening approaches, around 6 pm, Chepurai prepares for the return of the herds. She'll milk more than 20 cows, meticulously counting each animal to ensure none were lost during grazing. By 7 pm, she gathers her children for dinner – another simple meal of milk with roasted or boiled meat. Only at 9 pm does she finally rest, though her husband may return at any hour he pleases.
Women from Topolul mother to mother support group MMSG water crops at their kitchen garden in Kodich,West Pokot County ,a project that helps them fight malnutrition and hunger through climate smart agriculture.
Susan Krop, chairperson of Komesi Women Network Organisation, paints a stark picture of this imbalance. "Women are not given a voice or much decision-making power or status, though they are expected to fulfil much if not all responsibilities of taking care of the children, household upkeep and income generation," she explains. "They walk tirelessly, hours upon hours to fetch water, making sure their children have food and are healthy."
The burden grows heavier for women whose husbands migrate with livestock in search of pasture. These men, focused solely on their animals' wellbeing, can disappear for months at a time. "In Pokot culture, the woman does the milking. Illiteracy has also contributed to the over-burdening of the Pokot woman," Koiles notes. "We are trying to change the narrative by telling our men to start sharing the responsibilities. Sometimes you meet them in the gold pits, but they have their husbands who are herding."
Caroline Menach, director of Rays of Hope organisation, describes these women as "beasts of burden" trapped in a cycle of hardship. "A Pokot woman is overburdened with house chores and often forced to endure a hard marriage life," she says. The responsibility of raising children, paying school fees, and managing other family needs falls squarely on their shoulders while men "take back seats".
The situation is particularly challenging in pastoral villages, where men's social roles as herders and warriors keep them away from home for extended periods. They come home occasionally, mainly to check on their families before leaving again in search of pasture and water for their precious livestock.
"The man has no other duties. Many are lazy," Krop states bluntly. "His duty is to marry many wives and give birth to many children. He doesn't care how the woman will get food."
Yet there's a glimmer of hope on the horizon. While those in remote areas still firmly embrace traditional gender roles, families with more exposure to modern influences are beginning to question and abandon these practices. The change is slow but steady, like the patient footsteps of women who have walked these paths for generations.
For now, though, women like Chepurai continue their daily marathon of duties, their strength and resilience a testament to the human spirit in the face of deeply entrenched cultural norms. Their stories echo across the community, carried in the wind like the dust from their endless journeys to fetch water, build homes, and nurture the next generation – all while their husbands rest in the shade, traditional stools beside them, engaged in endless conversation as another day passes beneath the scorching sun.
