Mary Kaimuri is a working mother who loves her children fiercely. The mother of two plans their meals, tracks homework on WhatsApp groups, remembers PE days, dentist appointments and birthdays.
She also works full-time, contributes financially to her household, and fulfils her extended family obligations. By every visible measure, she is coping.
Yet little cracks show she is stretched thin, like a quick burst out when her seven-year-old spills tea on the floor.
“Across many households, parents in cities, towns and villages are quietly admitting what once couldn’t be said: parenting has become overwhelming. Not occasionally exhausting, but relentlessly so. Yet many continue to wear their fatigue like a badge of honour,” says Catherine Mugendi, a counsellor and family coach.
She says many parents are unaware of this “burnout” and often do not take it seriously.
“We joke about it, and oftentimes you hear parents state that they haven’t slept in years,’ and everyone laughs. However, underneath the joke is real strain.” says James Ogeto, a father of three.
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James explains that for generations, parenting in African communities was shared work. Children belonged not only to their parents but to aunties, uncles, neighbours and grandparents, and help was not requested; it was assumed.
Why tired became normalThat village is long gone for many.
“We live behind gates now,” says Jotham Ndiego, a single father. “You don’t know your neighbour, and you don’t trust anyone with your child, so everything sits on you.”
Urbanisation, migration, economic pressure and changing family structures have reshaped how families live. Many young parents are raising children far from their support systems, while juggling work demands that leave little room for rest.
The result is parenting without backup, and often without pause.
“Even when I’m home, my mind is working,” says James. “School fees. Food. Discipline. Screens. Safety. You’re always on.”
“Burnout rarely arrives loudly. It creeps in through constant responsibility and unending mental load,” says Prof Rebecca Wambua, a children’s book author, and educationist.
Parents today, she says, are expected to be emotionally present, financially stable, informed, gentle but firm, playful yet disciplined. However, social media offers endless advice and endless comparisons.
“You see these perfect routines online, and meanwhile, you’re just trying to get everyone fed and alive,” she says.
Over time, tiredness becomes the baseline, irritability becomes normal, joy is postponed to “when things settle”, a day that rarely comes.
Dr Miriam Wekesa, a family therapist, says many parents do not recognise burnout because it has been normalised. “Burnout is not just exhaustion; it is emotional depletion. Parents become detached, overwhelmed, or constantly irritable, and they may love their children deeply but feel numb or resentful, and then feel ashamed for feeling that way,” explains the therapist.
That shame keeps many parents silent.
She says, for example, in the Luhya culture, especially for mothers, struggling is seen as weakness, while for fathers, emotional fatigue is often ignored entirely.
Mugendi says burnout does not stay contained within the parent, but spills into homes, where parents speak of snapping more easily, withdrawing emotionally, or feeling disconnected from their children. Some describe guilt that follows them everywhere.
“I started avoiding my children in the evening, not because I didn’t love them, but because I had nothing left to give,” says James.
Children, too, sense the strain, says Wekesa, and they may become more anxious, more demanding, or more withdrawn, creating a cycle that further exhausts already stretched parents.
“This is how burnout passes quietly from parent to child, not through lack of love, but through lack of capacity,” he says.
The therapist says one of the most damaging myths around parenting burnout is that it reflects personal inadequacy, a dangerous thinking because burnout is a signal, not that one is failing, but that the system around is unsustainable.
Doing too muchThe physician says many parents are doing too much with too little support, while holding themselves to impossible standards, as they parent without rest, without help, and without permission to stop.
James recalls the moment he realised something had to change.
“I missed my daughter’s school play because of work. She didn’t cry, she just said, ‘It’s okay, Daddy, you’re always busy.’ That broke me,” he says.
Experts say parenting without burnout does not mean perfect balance or stress-free homes. It means questioning the idea that suffering is proof of dedication. They explain that strong parenting includes rest, asking for help, and letting go of some expectations.
“It’s okay if dinner is simple, and it’s okay if the house is messy. The most important thing is presence as children need present parents, not perfect ones,” says Wekesa.
Prof Wambua notes many families are beginning to rebuild smaller, intentional villages comprising of trusted neighbours, church groups, shared school runs, and honest conversations between co-parents.
Mary has started something simple, one evening a week, where she does nothing productive after work. “I sit, I breathe, and sometimes I just stare, and I thought it felt awkward at first, but now I’m kinder to my kids and to myself,” she says.
Prof Wambua says parenting will always be demanding, though it does not have to cost parents their health, joy or sense of self, as burnout is not a personal flaw, but rather, it is the body and heart asking for a different way. As James puts it, “I don’t want my children to remember a tired, angry version of me and call it sacrifice.”
Perhaps the bravest thing parents can do today is not to endure silently, but to pause, to share the load, and to believe that rest, too, is part of raising children well.