NAIROBI, Kenya — Perhaps you’re among the many who, upon seeing the headline and the writer’s name, already feel a spark of irritation. Maybe you’re reading this not out of curiosity, but to find something to criticise. Take a deep breath. Stay calm — it’s good for your health.
Alright then. We can all agree that the debates surrounding marital conflict and the rising number of divorces have become increasingly loud.
Self-proclaimed marriage “experts” are offering advice — mostly directed at women — while even governments have begun promoting public discussions about family stability.
To some, this may seem like a new phenomenon. It isn’t. What’s new is our openness in talking about it. Marital strife and divorce have always existed — only now they’re harder to hide.
Let’s be honest: people are suffering in marriages — both men and women.
To this day, in some families, a man without a house, a car, or a well-paying job is deemed unfit to marry their daughter, no matter how much the couple loves each other.
Married men, meanwhile, struggle to live up to enormous expectations — to out-earn other husbands, provide endlessly for wives and in-laws, and never show weakness.
Mental health challenges among men are severe but often unspoken. Many take reckless financial risks or engage in unhealthy competition just to keep their marriages afloat — to preserve their pride. Beneath the surface, we are deeply unsettled.
And for many women, the situation isn’t any easier.
A friend of mine says she barely eats or sleeps, “only makeup keeps me looking sane.” She complains her husband is never home — he’s either away on business or drinking with friends. When she raises the issue, he retorts, “What else do you need?”
Another woman tells me her husband has withdrawn entirely from household responsibilities because she earns more than he does. She can’t recall the last time he bought her even a handkerchief, let alone paid school fees. When she questions him, he lashes out — verbally or physically — accusing her of trying to “dominate him.”
Then there’s my aunt, who, out of fear of loneliness and the “sin” of fornication, agreed to become a second wife. Today, she’s treated like an intruder in another woman’s marriage, stripped of love and dignity.
Even my neighbour confides that despite her long workdays, she must still cook, clean, and wash because her husband once caught her confronting the househelp he was cheating with. “If you don’t do your duties,” he threatened, “I’ll marry her instead.”
All this pain stems from one core problem — our refusal to modernise marriage itself.
We continue to cling to outdated expectations and structures inherited from our ancestors — people who lived in completely different times. Back then, it made sense: physical labour determined wealth, and women, constantly pregnant or nursing due to the absence of birth control, were largely confined to domestic roles.
Marriage, as a social institution, emerged not from romance but from economic necessity. It was a means of consolidating property, producing labour, and ensuring survival. Bride price, polygamy, and arranged unions all served this collective purpose — to sustain the community, not fulfil emotional needs.
Fast forward to today — the year 2025 — and life has radically changed.
Wealth is now created not by physical strength but by intellect, skill, and creativity. Women have joined the workforce in large numbers, and access to education and family planning has transformed gender roles. Urbanisation and capitalism have eroded communal bonds, replacing collective identity with individualism.
Yet our concept of marriage remains frozen in time.
I once asked a male friend why he doesn’t want to remarry after his divorce. He said:
“I fear property disputes. What I’ve built, I want my children to inherit. Marriage today is all-inclusive — what’s mine becomes hers and vice versa. For those of us with children, remarriage feels more like a risk than a reward.”
His response made me call another friend — a fiercely independent woman — to share this insight.
She laughed and said: “Men like that are emotionally unavailable. They want independent women, but they have no idea what to do with them.”
She explained that what she truly desires is not wealth or power but partnership — emotional connection, empathy, laughter, shared struggle. “I can make my own money,” she told me, “but I still need someone who loves and understands me.”
The problem, however, is that too many men — and society at large — still expect women to play by ancient rules. The question is never “What does she want?” but always “What does the husband want?”
Suggest a more balanced partnership, and you’re told, “You’re not wife material. You’re not like our grandmothers.”
But our grandmothers didn’t live our lives.
Today, marriage is no longer the only gateway to stability or respectability. Both men and women can build successful lives outside it. Having children out of wedlock, once unthinkable, is now a social reality that many communities — even some churches — have learned to accept.
For many, marriage is no longer a measure of success, though social pressure, especially on women, remains strong. Some marry merely to “avoid stigma” or “please their parents,” only to divorce later and move on peacefully. As urban wisdom goes, “respect follows money — everything else is negotiable.”
Ultimately, the only enduring meaning marriage holds today is spiritual. But even that is fading as religious influence weakens. One older bachelor told me bluntly:
“Why carry the stress of planning an expensive wedding and managing in-laws when I can live freely, love my partner quietly, and repent later?”
If we genuinely want marriage to survive, we must redefine it. We must craft new frameworks that reflect the realities and desires of 21st-century partners.
Otherwise, we will keep counting divorces, single parents, domestic violence, and tragic cases of spousal killings.
It’s time for sociologists, psychologists, and policymakers to step in — or else, marriage will continue to lose its meaning, one broken heart at a time.
