Politics of motherhood: Inside the real campaign women politicians run

What you need to know:

• Women seeking political office face competing demands of leadership, family responsibilities and social expectations as they navigate campaigns, motherhood and public life.
• From maternity leave to campaign trails, Kenyan women politicians describe the challenges of combining public leadership with parenting and domestic responsibilities.

As the 2027 election season heats up, women aspirants and lawmakers are fighting two campaigns at once—one for a seat, and one to still be seen as good mothers.

Justina Wamae once stood a heartbeat away from the deputy presidency. In August 2022, at just 35, she was running mate to Prof George Wajackoyah on the Roots Party ticket, one of the youngest women ever to contest that office in Kenya, alongside other notable female running mates like Martha Karua and Ruth Mucheru Mutua. Barely two years later, she had all but disappeared from the political scene.

Justina first tried her hand at politics in 2017, running as an independent candidate for the Mavoko Constituency parliamentary seat in Machakos County. She lost. Her fortunes changed in 2022 when she joined the Wajackoyah ticket.

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But after the election loss, she welcomed her second child in May 2024, and a third in January 2026, and new motherhood took her away from public life. She applied for a permanent secretary position in government after the election but was not successful. In July 2024, she was appointed to a 20-member Presidential Taskforce on Human Resources for Health, and turned the offer down, citing personal reasons, including that she was on maternity leave.

"I welcomed my son barely two years after the 2022 General Election. Even after the election loss, I was still vocal and active in politics, but after the birth of my second-born in 2024, I had to prioritise parenting," she says.

Justina also has an older daughter, born in 2019.

"My focus shifted to providing for my young family and being present. Remember, we lost the election, and I did not get any position, so politics was not paying me. Political sustainability requires an assured flow of income, and I did not have that. I retreated to the family business we run with my husband, focusing on excavation, construction and real estate building materials supply," she says.

From where she now sits, she believes women in politics need a strong support system to lean on when the pressure builds.

"It is also important to note that we can have everything, but not at the same time. Some seasons will demand that you sacrifice something you dearly hold for an equally dear thing, and that is fine. The sooner women accept this, the better," she offers.

Justina is not the only one carrying this. Across Kenya, women in politics, whether they're already in office or still trying to get there, are dealing with the same problem: they have to prove they can lead and still be seen as good mothers.

Close to the Kenya–Uganda border in Kapenguria, about 400 kilometres from Nairobi, Esther Serem made history in 2022 as the first woman elected as an MCA in West Pokot. A former teacher, she threw her hat into the ring and trounced seasoned male competitors to win the seat. Now a mother of five, she says juggling her political duties with her family is a daily struggle.

"My day starts at 5am, when I wake up, prepare breakfast for the family and prepare my grandchildren for school. I then head to the assembly before coming back home in the evening to prepare supper for my family, finally ending at 11pm," Esther says.

She is still the one who prepares breakfast every day, she says.

"Even though I have a house help, serving my husband, children and grandchildren breakfast and supper whenever they are home is my duty. Being an MCA does not in any way take away my responsibilities as a mother and a wife. I also normally help the household with some chores, like cleaning and cooking," Esther adds.

She has faced plenty of pushback for stepping into leadership.

"I usually face a lot of stereotypes associated with women's leadership, where I am told to my face that, as a woman, I am not fit to lead. I have been accused of bewitching my husband to allow me to join politics. I appreciate my husband for not listening to them. I also thank my family for trusting and supporting me," she adds.

About 20 kilometres from Nairobi, Esther Gathogo is meeting boda boda riders in Ruiru town when we catch up with her. She has already sat through one engagement on this day, with traders at Ruiru market, and has two more meetings lined up before she rushes home in time for dinner with her family.

Esther was Ruiru's first MP, elected in the March 2013 General Election after the constituency was hived off from the larger Juja Constituency.

"This is now the routine; the campaigns are slowly gathering pace, and the schedule is becoming tighter and more hectic. Politics is very demanding, and it calls for a strong and dedicated individual," Esther tells the Nation.

As a mother and a wife, she says, it calls for a careful balancing act to make sure no side of her life suffers, and she makes it a point to create time for her family regardless of how busy she is.

"Family always comes first for me. It's the main support system, and I have to ensure I create time for my family and the public as well. Remember that when one fails to win an election, you go back to the family, and therefore it needs my priority," she says.

Sometimes, Esther suspends all her political activities just to be with her family. She helps with domestic chores, including cooking and laundry.

The former MP, who is seeking to reclaim her seat on a Democracy for Citizen Party (DCP) ticket, says she always makes sure she wraps up her political engagements early enough to get home and check on her family.

"We always have dinner together as a family. When I am home, I make lunch for them. I always talk to them and help them understand the demanding nature of politics," she notes.

Looking back on her time as MP, Esther calls it baptism by fire.

"Here I was, a mother and a wife, and now a new MP. There is no way I would neglect my children and husband because of my job. At the same time, I could not ignore my duties as a lawmaker and a representative of the people. It was a delicate balancing act, but thank God I managed," she says. She credits her success to a supportive, understanding family.

"I have a very supportive family. My husband usually joins me on the campaign trail to give me moral and financial support. My children have been the greatest cheerleaders in my leadership journey," she adds.

For Gloria Orwoba, the tension between motherhood and public office has played out inside Parliament itself.

While serving as a nominated senator, Orwoba got pregnant, delivered her son, and looked forward to juggling motherhood with legislative work. It did not take long for reality to bite. She recalls being forced to attend a virtual meeting from the maternity ward just to keep her parliamentary business moving.

Orwoba points out that when a female MP goes on maternity leave, her legislative work grinds to a halt with her.

"When you go on maternity leave, your work, including bills and motions, automatically stalls. You cannot attend committee sessions and even plenary sessions. For male politicians, their work continues," she says.

Parliamentary rules, she adds, do not allow anyone to bring a baby into the precincts of Parliament, members' lounge included. "It is not an easy task being a mother of a newborn and being a parliamentarian," she says.

She credits Parliament for allowing female MPs with newborns to travel locally with their nannies for official duties, with accommodation and a small per diem provided, which lets lawmakers travel for work with their children for the first six months. But she believes the Senate could still do more for lactating mothers, starting with breastfeeding facilities for female members, which currently do not exist.

With her son now one year and eight months old, Orwoba admits she is still finding her footing.

"Sometimes it is all a matter of prioritising, and I will prioritise motherhood any day. There are times I could not engage in committees so that I could be with my child. It is a tough balancing act. I have seen some women who have lost their families and marriages for being in politics. Many women have also opted not to have kids, as they view balancing between politics and motherhood as a tall order for them," she says.

Gender norms

These struggles are not isolated. They point to a wider pattern of what is expected of women who step into public life. Traditional gender norms still expect a woman to be a wife and mother before anything else.

Women who step into politics are often accused of neglecting their homes and criticised for spending too much time in public life instead of with their children, a "bad mother" label their male counterparts rarely face for the same ambition.

Campaigning demands extensive travel, rallies and long hours meeting voters and building political networks, and in some communities, the expectation is still that a woman belongs at home, not in power. A politically ambitious father is called hardworking; a mother with the same ambition can be accused of abandoning her family.

Research on Kenyan women MCAs published in Feminist Anthropology in 2024, conducted between 2018 and 2020, examined 25 women serving as MCAs in Murang'a and Kwale counties.

It found that motherhood functions as a political resource: women MCAs often present themselves as "mothers," not simply to describe their family status, but to signal qualities voters associate with good leadership—care, sacrifice, responsibility and concern for community.

The word "Mama" itself becomes a political identity, the research notes, with some women styling themselves as mothers during campaigns to appeal to voters through their maternal capacity. In this sense, motherhood has helped make women's political leadership more culturally legible and legitimate.

Fridah Githuku, a women's rights and social justice specialist, says the conversation about women's leadership should not begin and end with whether women have the ambition, qualifications or opportunity to lead.

"Women are still disproportionately expected to be primary caregivers, to nurture their children, manage family responsibilities and provide emotional support at home. When women take on leadership roles, these responsibilities rarely shift proportionately, resulting in greater time poverty and a significantly heavier burden," Fridah tells the Nation.

Motherhood, unequal care responsibilities, time poverty and concerns about personal and family safety, she says, all shape whether women feel able to enter leadership, remain in it and thrive.

Balancing politics and parenting

Rachael Omollo, a politician and public policy and governance expert, says balancing politics and parenting as a woman is no small feat. Public expectations of women can be contradictory; she notes, you are expected to be ambitious and effective in public while being judged against traditional ideas of motherhood at the same time.

"Recognising that tension helps you manage it without allowing other people's expectations to define you," she says. The goal, according to Rachel, is not to give 100 per cent to everything every day, but to build systems that protect both your public responsibilities and your family.

Politics can consume every available hour, which is why she advises deciding early what is non-negotiable: school events, important family occasions, bedtime calls, weekends, or simply regular one-on-one time with your children. That time should not be left to chance. And when you are home, be present—even an hour of undivided attention can mean more to a child than a full day spent physically present but distracted by calls, meetings and social media.

None of this works alone, Rachel says. A trusted partner, parents, siblings, close friends or household help can make a real difference, and the important thing is having people who can step in when political responsibilities shift suddenly.

Children also do better when they understand the work itself, rather than letting politics become something that constantly "takes mum away"; explaining what you do and why it matters helps them come to see your public service as part of your values.

It also helps to keep politics from following you home. Political life brings criticism, opposition and sometimes very personal attacks, so it is worth developing the discipline to leave those disagreements outside the family space. Children need to experience you primarily as ‘mum’, not as a politician.

Communication

Communication matters too; helping your family understand what you do, why you do it and why you sometimes have to be away makes your absence easier for them to process, and it is worth teaching children resilience and discretion alongside that, since a public life can bring public attention onto the whole family.

Guilt, Rachel says, is perhaps the hardest trap to avoid. There will be a political event missed because of a child, and a family event missed because of public duty, and motherhood was never meant to be measured by perfection. What matters is quality, consistency and love, not being physically available every single moment. Looking after yourself belongs in that same conversation too; rest, exercise, friendships, reflection and personal time are not luxuries, because burnout makes both parenting and public service harder.

Underneath it all sits one constant: keeping your values the same in both worlds. Let your children see that the principles you promote publicly also guide you at home, because the greatest legacy may not be the political position you hold, but what your children absorb simply from watching you. When you are in politics, serve with focus. When you are with your children, be their mother, not a politician. And when you need help, ask for it without guilt.