Kenya is grappling with a deadly wave of violence, and women are paying the highest price. In just one year, the number of femicides has nearly doubled—from 95 cases in 2023 to a staggering 170 in 2024. Despite growing public alarm, the government’s response remains sluggish and ineffective. As hate speech floods social media, political will stalls, and grassroots movements rise in resistance, the pressing question remains: how many more women must die before real change takes hold?
A spiraling crisis fueled by impunity
The numbers tell a chilling story. In 2022, the organization Femicide Count Kenya recorded 58 femicides. Two years later, that figure has nearly tripled, with 170 cases already reported in the early months of 2024. Many of the victims are young women—some still students—lured into deadly traps during dates, often arranged online. Most of these murders are carried out by current or former partners, or acquaintances.
One particularly harrowing case is that of Rebecca Cheptegei. On January 3, 2024, she was found dead in a Nairobi apartment after meeting a man. Days later, another woman was killed in strikingly similar circumstances. The media began speaking of “serial murders” as graphic images flooded social platforms, turning tragedy into spectacle. Violence is becoming normalized, and outrage is struggling to translate into action.
Sometimes, it takes a familiar face to jolt public consciousness. In October 2021, the brutal murder of rising athletics star Agnes Tirop—stabbed in her home, her husband charged—sparked national grief. Promised reforms followed but quickly faded from view. More recently, the killing of LGBTQ+ activist Edwin Chiloba reignited debate over systemic violence. While not a femicide per se, Chiloba’s death highlighted how vulnerable marginalized groups remain. In a climate thick with hate, women continue to bear the brunt of a system built on dominance and silence.
An absent state as civil society sounds the alarm
Despite the alarming trend, the term “femicide” doesn’t even appear in Kenya’s Penal Code. The killing of women is treated as ordinary homicide, stripped of its gendered dimension. No official body releases consistent data, and political leaders are largely silent. Some downplay the murders as mere “domestic disputes”; others have made openly sexist remarks in public. This vacuum of accountability only deepens the impunity, while the few policies that do exist are piecemeal and lack coherent direction.
Into this void steps civil society. Organizations like Femicide Count Kenya, Usikimye, and KELIN are working tirelessly to document cases, support victims’ families, and pressure authorities. They’re calling for legal recognition of femicide, the creation of safe shelters for at-risk women, and a complete overhaul of the justice system.
In January 2024, protests erupted across major cities. In Nairobi, Kisumu, and Mombasa, thousands of women marched with portraits of victims, chanting their names and demanding an end to the bloodshed. The demonstrations were powerful and deeply emotional—a sign that Kenyan society is no longer willing to look away. But as powerful as these citizen movements are, they cannot dismantle such a deeply entrenched system alone.
Until the state takes decisive, well-funded action, the femicide crisis will continue—unchecked and in the shadows. Activists and organizations remain defiant, fighting to break the silence, save lives, and force an entire nation to confront a grim reality. In Kenya, it’s women who are paying the price for collective denial.