Fatuma's Silent Struggle: Growing Up in the Shadows of Mukuru's Sewage Crisis
By Ruth Munyi
(Fatuma is a fictional name used to protect the privacy of the real children whose experiences inspire this story.)
In the dense maze of corrugated iron roofs and muddy pathways that make up Mukuru kwa Ruben, one of Nairobi’s largest informal settlements, the air often carries a heavy reminder of hardship. Here, more than 100,000 families navigate daily life in a space strained by overcrowding and neglect. At the heart of this resilient community is Fatuma, a bright 10-year-old girl whose warm smile and curious eyes hide the weight of challenges no child should face. Her story, drawn from the lived realities of many in Mukuru, sheds light on a hidden crisis: the devastating impact of inadequate sanitation on Kenya’s urban slum children.
Fatuma was born and raised in a single-room home shared with her family of six, built from salvaged materials that offer little protection from the elements. The nearest pit latrine, one of only about 3,863 serving the vast community is a risky 200-meter trek along paths often slick with overflowing sewage from open ditches. "Every day, I worry about going to the toilet," Fatuma says softly, clutching her schoolbook. "The river by our house smells bad, and when it floods, everything gets dirty. We all get sick."
In her early years, before turning five, Fatuma frequently suffered from diarrheal diseases caused by contaminated water and raw sewage polluting the Ngong River. These illnesses, preventable yet rampant in slums, took the life of her younger sibling a few years ago. "He was always in pain from his tummy," she remembers, her voice trailing off.
"Mama said it was the dirty water." Today, Fatuma still battles recurring stomach aches that force her to miss school—echoing a grim statistic: children in Kenya's slums are five times more likely to miss education due to such preventable diseases.
The dangers are not limited to health. Shared latrines, often far from homes and poorly lit, expose girls like Fatuma to risks of violence. "At night, it's scary," she admits. "I go with my big sister, but sometimes bad people are around." With over half of Nairobi lacking proper sewerage coverage, these facilities become sites of vulnerability, stealing safety and dignity from young lives. At Fatuma's school, where only 29% of informal settlement institutions have safe water and adequate sanitation, teachers witness the toll. "Our children arrive exhausted from illness," says a local educator. "Learning is impossible when survival comes first."The crisis intensified during the Gen Z protests in June 2025, when calls for accountability disrupted the city.
Schools closed, health services faltered, and Mukuru's fragile systems collapsed further. "We stayed inside for days," recalls Fatuma's mother. "No clean water came, and we had to use what was available from the river. Fatuma fell ill again." Community workers from organizations like SHOFCO provided emergency aid, but as one notes, "Temporary help isn't enough. We need lasting change."overflightstock.com
Experts highlight the broader cost: Kenya loses 0.9% of GDP annually to poor sanitation's ripple effects—healthcare burdens, lost productivity, and stunted growth that traps generations in poverty. "Inadequate sanitation violates children's basic rights," says a UNICEF Kenya public health specialist.
"It affects their health, safety, education, and future."Yet Fatuma holds onto hope. In her drawings, she imagines a cleaner Mukuru: blue rivers, safe toilets nearby, and healthy friends playing freely. "I want to be a doctor one day," she says with determination. "To help kids like my brother."Fatuma's experience is a heartbreaking call to action.
In a growing Nairobi, proper sanitation isn't just infrastructure—it's a fundamental need that can unlock brighter futures for thousands of children. Without urgent investment in sewer systems, community facilities, and sustainable solutions, this silent emergency will continue claiming childhoods in Mukuru and beyond.
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