Why Bungoma's teenage girls get pregnant to stay in school
Reproductive Health
By
Juliet Omelo
| Aug 15, 2025
“I’d Rather Get Pregnant Than Miss School. I’d rather get pregnant twice a year than miss school for good.”
It is a disturbing confession, but for many schoolgirls in Bungoma County, Western Kenya, it reflects a cruel reality shaped by poverty, menstrual stigma, and a society that continues to neglect the needs of adolescent girls.
Bungoma is among Kenya’s hardest-hit counties in the face of the “triple threat” early pregnancy, new HIV infections, and high school dropout rates among teenagers.
The latest data from the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics shows that teenage pregnancy rates rose to 19 per cent in 2024, up from 12 per cent in 2019. The average age of first sexual intercourse stands at just 17.
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Behind these statistics are girls navigating impossible choices, between education and dignity, between silence and shame.
In rural Kenya, menstruation is more than a taboo, it’s a barrier to education. Girls without access to sanitary towels often use rags, mattress foam, or even leaves and newspapers. These improvised methods can cause infections and embarrassment, forcing girls to miss school every month. Some go so far as to see pregnancy as a ‘solution’.
READ: Teen pregnancy driving surge in premature births in Bungoma County
Janet Khisa, the Gender-Based Violence Coordinator for Bungoma County, has encountered this alarming trend through her school outreach work. She recalls a girl who admitted to terminating two pregnancies in a single year just to stay in school.
“She couldn’t afford pads and saw abortion as her only way out. It’s heartbreaking. These girls are making such dangerous decisions just to continue their education,” Khisa explains.
Khisa says that cheap, illegal abortions — mostly done by untrained midwives — are readily available in some villages. The risks are enormous, including permanent infertility or even death, but for some girls, these are risks they are willing to take.
Terminate pregnancy
“They tell us they’d rather get pregnant and later terminate the pregnancy than be stigmatised for missing class every month,” she says.
Jemimah (not her real name), a Form Three student, is one of many girls facing this struggle. Her older sister was married off at 13 when their parents could no longer afford her school fees or sanitary products. “I used to miss school for at least three days during my period. My parents couldn’t afford pads. They still can’t,” she says.
Jemimah’s situation changed when a relative took her in, offering basic support including food and sanitary towels.
“I’m lucky. Many girls in my school don’t have that chance. Some just disappear, either married off or pregnant,” she says.
But even seeking help elsewhere comes with its own dangers.
Sara, now in her twenties, grew up in Mt Elgon on the Kenya-Uganda border. After her family was displaced by ethnic clashes in 2007, she went to live with her maternal uncle to continue school — only to face sexual abuse instead.
ALSO READ: Bungoma in focus as 54 school girls impregnated
“He had a roof over his head and promised to support me,” she says.
“Instead, he raped me for months. When my teachers noticed changes in my behaviour, it was too late. Doctors later told me I couldn’t have children,” she adds.
Now self-employed, Sara says she knows other girls who had abortions to stay in school — two of whom are now infertile.
“Poverty took away more than just my childhood,” she says. “It took away my future.”
Despite national efforts to reduce adolescent birth rates — from 96 births per 1,000 girls in 2014 to 73 per 1,000 in 2022 — regional disparities remain staggering.
In 2024, teenage pregnancy rates hit 50 per cent in Samburu, 36 per cent in West Pokot, 20 per cent in Baringo, and 19 per cent in Bungoma.
Experts say these outcomes are linked to poverty, a lack of menstrual health support, poor access to reproductive education, and cultural stigma.
Menstrual health education must be prioritised. Sanitary towels should be made available to every girl in every school.
Teachers need training to identify and support at-risk students, while communities must break the silence surrounding menstruation, teenage pregnancy, and sexual violence.
Most importantly, the nation must stop penalising girls for poverty-driven decisions and begin safeguarding their right to a safe, educated, and empowered future.
For girls like Jemimah — and the countless others suffering in silence — this is more than a policy concern. It is a matter of life, dignity, and survival.