The silent cut: Fear over surge in FGM as West Pokot schools close
Anti-FGM activist Domtila Chesang'. In remote villages of West Pokot, FGM now hides in secrecy—carried out at night, inside homes, without the songs and ceremonies that once marked the ritual. Domtila has warned of a looming surge in FGM when schools close.
What you need to know:
- Authorities have arrested a woman and her two daughters for participating in an FGM ceremony, raising fears of a surge in secret operations as schools close and communities celebrate harvest season.
- Despite decades of anti-FGM advocacy and legislation, the practice persists in remote areas of West Pokot, where secrecy, poverty, and cultural pressure continue to endanger girls’ health and education.
The signs were subtle but unmistakable—whispered rumours, unusually quiet households, and girls who suddenly disappeared for days. For Kanyarkwat Assistant Chief Abraham Plimo, these patterns have become all too familiar, signalling a practice that refuses to die despite decades of laws and advocacy.
When an informer led him to a homestead in Nasanai village, his worst suspicions were confirmed. Two girls, aged 12 and 19, sat calmly among family members, dressed normally, betraying no hint of the trauma they had just endured. They had been circumcised.
The girls' 40-year-old mother was arrested alongside her daughters. All three were arraigned in Kapenguria on Monday and released on a bond of Sh200,000 or an alternative Sh100,000 bail. Police are now hunting for the circumciser.
"The two girls were sitting quietly among other family members, dressed normally. No one would have suspected them, but our informer had directed us well," Abraham says.
As schools prepare to close and communities in the North Rift gear up for post-harvest celebrations, authorities fear a surge in secret female genital mutilation ceremonies. The recent arrest suggests those fears are materialising.
Despite the enactment of the Prohibition of Female Genital Mutilation Act in 2011, the outlawed practice persists in pockets of rural Kenya, driven by cultural pressure, poverty and stigma. In remote villages, FGM has gone underground—carried out at night, inside homes, stripped of the songs and ceremonies that once marked the ritual.
Abraham says perpetrators have adapted to evade law enforcement.
"The mother knows who cut the girls and must come clean. We suspect she did it herself. Some of these women were mocked for not being circumcised and returned home to be cut," he says.
Kanyarkwat police station boss Isaiah Irungu says terrain challenges and community silence make it difficult to rescue victims.
"We've increased patrols in the area and are working closely with locals to stop more cases," he says.
Read: FGM's bold return: A decade of silence, now proudly public, and why old messages aren't working
Anti-FGM activist Domtilla Chesang, from the Irep Foundation, has condemned the incident, warning it represents "just the tip of the iceberg".
"I rescued several girls in Sopukwo, Ortum, just a month ago. I had no choice but to house them myself—West Pokot still doesn't have a proper rescue centre," she says.
Domtilla warns that school holidays, harvest celebrations and economic hardship create conditions that enable FGM.
"Even with schools still open, cases are being reported. Come December, it will only get worse," she says, adding that once cut, many girls drop out of school. "This is a harmful and primitive culture that must be stopped."
A social worker Emily Partany says the lack of cooperation from parents and elders continues to shield perpetrators.
"This outdated practice continues to oppress girls. We need women leaders and parents to speak out and report incidents," she says.
Emily adds that economic desperation fuels the practice.
"FGM is often a gateway to early marriage and dowry income. Families facing hardship cut their girls to marry them off—it's heart-breaking."
According to the Kenya Demographic and Health Survey 2022, FGM prevalence in Kenya dropped from 38 per cent in 1998 to 15 per cent in 2022. However, in West Pokot, it remains alarmingly high at 44 per cent—one of the highest in the country.
Activists and leaders say the progress made risks being undone unless the government intensifies enforcement, education and community engagement.
"This is a fight we must not abandon," Domtilla says. "The law is clear—now we need the will to enforce it and safe spaces for girls."
