Wairimu Muthoni, a single mother of a girl, from Githurai, recalls the moment her 8-year-old daughter broke down after watching news footage of maadamano (protests) - the teargas, the water emitters, and shooting.
"She asked me, 'Mum, do we belong here? What if it happens to us?' That broke me," says Wairimu.
Like many parents, she was not sure how to answer. "Do I shield her from the pain, or do I teach her to live in it with courage?"
Edward Kioko, a child psychologist says this is the question haunting many parents today. "Children are absorbing the chaos of the world, even if we think they are not. But the truth is, they do not need us to protect them from the truth. They need to feel safe within it."
Storytelling as a tool for peace
Eric Muthomi, Project Manager, Regional Pastoralist Peace Link (RPPL), Isiolo, says that through PUMI, they are intentional.
"We use the marathon to bring together warrying communities for cultural engagement, and by running together, they learn to build peace," he says.
Back at home, the champions become ambassadors of peace, says Muthomi.
Meanwhile, in conflict-prone counties like Marsabit, parents are turning to peace clubs in schools to ground their children. The Rural Peace Pathways Lab (RPPL), a local initiative, has introduced role-playing, community storytelling, and trauma circles for both kids and parents.
Naima Lokorio, a facilitator with RPPL, says, "When a child watches their goat stolen or hears gunfire nearby, you do not wait. You talk. You give them a role. A purpose."
Kioko believes that peace education begins in how parents behave in front of their children, more than what they preach.
"Children learn to handle conflict by watching us. "How we argue, how we apologise, how we forgive" he says.
He recommends daily rituals, like a "peace circle" at bedtime, where children talk about their day.
Halima Ali, Program Coordinator, RPPL, says sometimes words fail.
"That is where ritual, play, and presence step in, tools that are learnt during our community interactions to preach peace," she says.
"Drawing is therapy for Kevin Muraya," says Mary Wanjiku, his mother, as he sketches another crayon dove.
"Every time he hears about war, he picks up his colours and draws peace."
Parents like Mary are learning to lean into these gentle practices. "When I don't have answers, I just sit with him. That's enough."
From marathon to mindset
As community members from eight-warrying communities in north and north-eastern run across county and cultural lines at the PUMI, the children lining the roads may be our truest peacebuilders.
They are listening. They are questioning. And, with the right tools, they are becoming.
"Peace is not just an idea," says Wairimu, watching her daughter write a poem about a world without hate. "It's how we tuck them in at night. It's what we say when they ask hard questions. It's what we model every day."
"Peaceful minds are not silent minds. They are minds that feel heard," says Wairimu Muthoni.