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 shows up for extended family obligations. By every visible measure, she is coping.
Yet small cracks reveal she is stretched thin, for instance, a quick burst of frustration when her seven-year-old spills tea on the floor.
“Across many households, parents in cities, towns, and villages are quietly admitting what once could not 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 notes that many parents are not aware of this “burnout,” and often do not take it seriously.
“We joke about it, and often you hear parents say that they haven’t slept in years,” says James Ogeto, a father of three. “Everyone laughs, but underneath the joke is real strain.”
James explains that for generations, parenting in African communities was shared work. Children belonged not only to their parents but also to aunties, uncles, neighbours, and grandparents, and help was not requested; it was assumed.
Why tired became normal
That village support system 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 pressures, and changing family structures have reshaped family life. 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 are expected to be emotionally present, financially stable, informed, gentle but firm, playful yet disciplined. Meanwhile, social media offers endless advice and constant comparison.
“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, and joy is postponed to “when things settle,” a day that rarely comes.
Recognising burnout
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. They may love their children deeply but feel numb or resentful, and then feel ashamed for feeling that way,” she explains.
That shame keeps many parents silent.
In some cultures, for example among the Luhya, struggling mothers are seen as weak, while fathers’ emotional fatigue is often ignored entirely.
Mugendi adds that burnout does not stay contained within the parent. It spills into homes, leading parents to snap more easily, withdraw emotionally, or feel disconnected from their children. Guilt 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. They may become more anxious, demanding, or 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,” says Wekesa.
She stresses that one of the most damaging myths about parenting burnout is that it reflects personal inadequacy. “Burnout is a signal, not proof that you’re failing. It shows the system around you is unsustainable.”
Doing too much
Wekesa says many parents are doing too much with too little support, holding themselves to impossible standards, parenting without rest, help, or 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 note that parenting without burnout does not mean perfect balance or stress-free homes. It means questioning the idea that suffering is proof of dedication. 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 that many families are beginning to rebuild smaller, intentional “villages,” comprising trusted neighbours, church groups, shared school runs, and honest conversations between co-parents.
For Mary, a small change has made a difference: one evening a week where she does nothing productive after work.
“I sit, I breathe, and sometimes I just stare. 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. Burnout is not a personal flaw, 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, share the load, and believe that rest, too, is part of raising children well.