By Jane M. Mwanza
On a humid afternoon in Bamburi, the air heavy with the smell of the ocean, Sanura Omar Shariff sits on a wooden stool outside her small home, her eyes following her six-year-old twins as they dart across the sandy yard. At 45, Sanura wears her years with ease her laughter rings clear, her presence warm. Yet beneath that brightness lies a story of secrecy, courage, and resilience.
Years ago, Sanura made a decision that would quietly transform her marriage. Against the weight of cultural expectations and religious beliefs, she chose to use modern family planning without telling her husband or relatives.
“I was scared at first,” she recalls, adjusting her black buibui as she speaks. “But I knew I needed a break for my health, and for my children. Not even my husband knew. For five years, I used contraceptives in secret. When I stopped, I conceived twins immediately. That proved to me that family planning doesn’t take away fertility.”
Sanura’s experience mirrors a quiet revolution underway in Mombasa, where women are reshaping family life with choices once whispered about in hushed tones.
Kenya’s family planning landscape has shifted dramatically over the past two decades. According to the 2022 Kenya Demographic and Health Survey (KDHS), the number of married women using modern contraceptives has nearly doubled from 32percent in 2003 to 57percent in 2022. Unmet need has fallen from 27percent to 14percent.
The government is now chasing an ambitious target: 64 percentage of married women on modern contraceptives by 2030.
But statistics, as public health experts often note, do not capture the intimate negotiations happening in homes, clinics, and places of worship. In Mombasa, where Islamic traditions intertwine with Swahili culture and modern influences, family planning remains a deeply personal and sometimes contentious choice.
At the Modern Gyno Clinic, tucked away on a busy street in Mombasa town, Dr. Mwangi Karanja meets women who often arrive with hushed voices and guarded questions.
“The most common methods here are the three-month Depo injection and the hormonal implant,” he explains. “They’re effective, discreet, and flexible.”
Yet the myths persist. Women fear weight gain, loss of intimacy, and permanent infertility. “No modern method causes lifelong infertility,” Dr. Karanja says firmly. “In fact, many women feel freer in their marriages. They can enjoy intimacy without constant fear of unplanned pregnancy.”
But one observation strikes him most: the solitude of women’s choices. “Most of the time, it’s the woman who initiates. Husbands may not even know. These are quiet revolutions, reshaping marriages from within.”
Religion remains a powerful voice in the conversation. In churches and mosques across Mombasa, spiritual leaders interpret family planning through very different lenses.
Pastor Douglas Ngolo of Deliverance Church leans on scripture to encourage balance: “The Bible advises husbands and wives to have the number of children they can manage. Family planning helps couples be responsible stewards of their families.”
But in Islam, views are more complex. Sheikh Muhammad Khalifa, Organizing Secretary of the Council of Imams, explains: “In Islam, some believe family planning is like taking a life. But allowances exist if the mother’s health, or the child’s, is at risk.”
For women like Sanura, these religious messages create tension between faith and survival. Often, the decision is made alone, behind closed doors, guided by the pressing realities of health, poverty, and family stability.
At the national level, Kenya has embraced the FP2030 agenda, aiming for universal access to family planning. Advocates argue that this is not just a women’s health issue—it is a societal one.
“Family planning allows women to space births, which reduces maternal and child health risks,” says Brian Anyega of the Health NGO Network (HENNET). “It gives women a chance to pursue education, run businesses, and contribute more fully to society. Ultimately, it benefits everyone.”
Yet challenges remain. Stockouts of contraceptives, misinformation campaigns, and the exclusion of men from decision-making continue to hinder progress.
The United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA), a key partner in Kenya’s reproductive health efforts, works behind the scenes to keep the system steady—funding contraceptive supplies, training health workers, and embedding family planning services into routine healthcare.
“Family planning is not just about preventing pregnancy,” UNFPA emphasizes. “It is about rights, dignity, and choice.”
In Mombasa, the story of family planning is no longer entirely a secret—it is a slow but determined transformation. Women like Sanura are proving that family planning is not an enemy of tradition, but a bridge between past and present realities.
By reclaiming control over their bodies, women are reshaping marriages and futures—not through rebellion, but through resilience.
