Parenting without a village: Where did all the aunties and uncles go?

When Irene Njuguna and James Njuguna welcomed their first child in Nairobi’s Denholm estate, they expected warm visits from neighbours, surprise pots of porridge from aunties, and a parade of wisdom from older relatives. Instead, they returned from the hospital to a silent apartment, unsure how to soothe their colicky baby at 3 am.

“No one knocked on the door,” Irene recalls. “Back in the village, everyone would have been waiting for the child, even fighting to carry the baby. But here, it was just the two of us, exhausted, confused, and afraid,” recollects Irene.

The two young parents, hardly in their thirties, had no prior knowledge of being first-time parents.

“Irene and I are the only children of our parents, and growing up, we did not interact with our grandparents, who sadly are long gone, and neither did we get introduced to our relatives in our family tree,” says James.

Irene and James’ story is not unique.

In many families, especially in urban and peri-urban areas, more and more parents are raising children without the traditional support systems that once anchored them. Aunties, uncles, cousins, and grandparents were the pillars of communal child-rearing. They have slowly disappeared from the frame, and parents, especially mothers, are buckling under the pressure.

A few decades ago, parenting was a communal affair, says Mzee Zakayo Kiruki, 73, a retired teacher and great-grandfather.

“When I was a child, I belonged to everyone. If I misbehaved, the neighbours would discipline me and inform my mother. If I fell sick, an auntie would rush me to the hospital. You could never fall through the cracks,” he reminisces.

Keep Reading

In many communities, raising a child was not solely the responsibility of the biological parents. Older siblings cared for younger ones. Cousins spent school holidays together. Elders passed down moral values during evening fireside chats.

This unwritten contract of shared responsibility gave children a wide social net and parents a lifeline.

What happened to the village, and what changed?

“Urbanisation and migration are key culprits,” says Dr Hezron Manduku, a child development specialist. “Young families have moved from their ancestral homes to cities for work. They live in gated communities or flats where people barely know their neighbours.”

Ironically, Dr Manduku says technology has connected us to the world, but disconnected us from the people next door. “Add to that global shift in family structures, distrust in society, safety concerns, and economic pressure, and the traditional village begins to collapse,” he explains.

According to Dr Manduku, extended family networks are not always reliable anymore. “Some parents fear judgment or interference, and prefer to do things their way, but end up isolated and overwhelmed.”

The cost of doing it alone

According to Risa Wanjiro, a psychologist, the impact of parenting in isolation runs deep.

“Mental burnout, anxiety, and emotional fatigue are common, and mothers, especially, suffer from postpartum depression without support, as fathers feel the pressure to be providers, protectors, and playmates, all at once,” says the psychologist.

For children, the consequences are also stark.

Without the guidance of aunties, grandfathers, and cousins, children miss out on diverse role models, cultural learning, and the social scaffolding that once helped them grow resilient.

“There’s a saying,” Wanjiro adds, “if you don’t build a village to raise your children, the world will raise them and it may not be kind.”

Rebuilding the village, creatively and consciously – all is not lost

Some parents are consciously rebuilding their own “modern villages” by forming WhatsApp parenting groups, pooling resources for childcare, and connecting with fellow parents in churches, schools, and estates.

Grace and Collins Otieno, who live in Thika, created a rotating playdate schedule with four other families in their court. “Each weekend, one house hosts all the children,” Grace says. “We share snacks, stories, and supervision. It gives the kids community and gives us parents a break.”

Wanjiro says churches and mosques are stepping in, offering parenting workshops, support groups, and mentorship.