Invisible Labour, Visible Pain: The Hidden Cost Of Unpaid Care Work

By Elizabeth Angira

It is pitch black in a village in Riana Ward of Bonchari Constituency in Kisii County. A rooster crows, breaking the silence.

While most villagers are still asleep, 34-year-old Ruth Moraa has already swept her compound, made two return trips to fetch water from a stream a kilometre away, and is now stirring porridge on a firewood stove for breakfast for her husband and three children.

“Wake up. You will be late for school,” Moraa calls to her children as she pours uji into mugs.

Once the children are up, she helps them brush their teeth, put on their uniforms, eat porridge, and leave for school. She then heads to the family’s farm to till, weed, or pick tea. Later, she returns to serve her husband breakfast, releases the family’s two cows from the pen, and takes the tea she has picked to the buying centre.

Moraa’s caring for children, and occasionally looking after her ailing mother-in-law and anything else that comes up. day is filled with unpaid care tasks—tending crops, cooking, cleaning, collecting firewood, She barely rests, yet none of this is recognised as “work” in the economic sense.

When she asks her husband for money to buy soap and sanitary pads for their teenage daughter, or sugar for tea, arguments erupt. He often dismisses her with harsh words: “You do not work and bring money to this house. So, do not try to assist me in spending the little I have made.”

Sometimes verbal insults escalate into physical violence.

Invisible backbone of society

Moraa’s story mirrors the experience of many women across Kenya. The 2021 Time Use Survey by the Kenya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS) found that women in Kenya spend an average of 27.38 hours per week on unpaid care and domestic work, compared to men’s 5.38 hours.

“In these counties, women wake up between 4.00 am and 5.00 am, and their day’s work rarely ends before 9.00 pm,” says Jane Nyamusi, a gender officer in Nyamira.

UN Women describes care work as the backbone of households and societies, yet it remains invisible, unpaid, and undervalued. According to the UN body, African women spend 3.1 times more time on unpaid care work than men, including fetching water, collecting firewood, doing laundry, preparing food, and caring for children, the sick, the elderly, and persons with disabilities.

“Women’s unpaid contributions subsidize the economy, but at the personal cost of missed income opportunities, financial vulnerability, and limited autonomy,” notes the Women’s Economic Empowerment Strategy released in January 2024 by UN Women.

Globally, women perform 75 per cent of unpaid care and domestic work. Despite being essential, care work is excluded from gross domestic product (GDP) calculations and overlooked in policy planning in most countries, especially in Africa.

Economic dependence and gender-based violence

Across much of Africa, unpaid care work has become an invisible trap, binding women to economic dependence and increasing their vulnerability to gender-based violence (GBV).

In rural areas, where cultural norms assign household duties almost exclusively to women, and access to water, electricity, and childcare is limited, the burden is heavier, more exhausting, and often dangerous.

Nyamusi explains that because these tasks go unpaid and unrecognised, women remain financially dependent on their husbands.

“This dependence becomes a trigger for violence whenever money is discussed,” she says.

In Kisii town, 30-year-old Kwamboka* became a housewife after quitting her tailoring following the birth of her second child. With no daycare and no one to watch their children, she stayed home to tend to them and the family farm. She relies on her husband, a boda boda rider, for everything from rent to food and school fees for the children.

“Any time I request him for even Sh100 to buy vegetables, he insults me, saying I am lazy,” Kwamboka whispers. “Sometimes he withholds money deliberately, knowing I have nowhere else to turn.”

Thomson Osoro, an activist with Rigena Human Rights, a local lobby group, says this form of economic violence, where men use money as a weapon of control, is common.

“Women are forced to endure verbal abuse, forced sex, or being locked out of household financial decisions simply because they are not seen as ‘breadwinners’ since they stay at home,” Osoro says.

A 2022 report by the National Crime Research Centre found that poverty is one of the leading drivers of intimate partner violence in Kenya. Without independent income or ownership of land, women often have little bargaining power. Yet, even career women are not spared.

Lilian Gor, a nominated Member of the County Assembly (MCA) in Kisii County, says unpaid labour extends to workplaces. In schools, female teachers, particularly those in Early Childhood Development Education (ECDE) and lower primary, are often expected to take on tasks outside their professional duties, such as cooking and serving guests.

“These responsibilities are disproportionately assigned to women, despite not falling within their job description,” she says.

“They are expected to deliver the curriculum while also attending to the out-of-classroom needs of learners. Yet, their compensation only covers teaching,” Gor adds, and urges counties to develop policies that would support the employment and remuneration of both ECDE teachers and caregivers.

Samwel Bosire, chairperson of the Abagusii Council of Elders, observes that women are expected to shoulder the burden of domestic chores, often at the expense of their personal growth and participation in income-generating activities. He adds that women are increasingly contributing to household income, but expectations at home have not shifted.

“A woman who works the whole day in the market or office is still expected to prepare food, clean, and attend to children without fail,” he says. “When she cannot meet these demands due to fatigue or lack of time, conflicts arise. Many of these conflicts escalate into gender-based violence.”

Bosire says the imbalance in sharing domestic responsibilities breeds resentment, which can fuel emotional, physical, or economic abuse. Men, feeling entitled to certain services at home, may resort to violence when their expectations are not met.

“Unpaid care work has silently trapped many women into cycles of violence,” he says.

This is because some men, instead of appreciating the dual roles their wives play, interpret any delay or shortcoming as neglect.

“That is where you hear cases of verbal abuse, beatings, or even abandonment,” he says.

“As a community, we must begin to see unpaid care work as work. If men and women share these responsibilities fairly, there will be less tension in homes, stronger families, and fewer cases of violence. Our cultural values must evolve to match today’s realities,” he adds.

Addressing the gap

Although Kenya has frameworks like the National Policy on Gender and Development (2019), unpaid care work remains largely invisible in budgeting and planning.

Citing global examples, policy analyst Dennis Anyoka says that Kenya could learn from countries that have integrated time-use surveys into policy planning.

“In countries like Mexico and South Africa, data from time-use surveys have been used to design childcare services, flexible work arrangements, and targeted social protection programmes,” he says. “Kenya must follow suit by recognising unpaid care work in economic statistics and developing policies that redistribute this burden.”

He emphasises that addressing unpaid care work is not just about women’s rights; it is also about economic growth and social stability.

While there are cash transfer programmes for older persons and orphans, few directly target women caregivers.

Gor, the MCA, welcomes the Persons with Disability Act (Act No. 4 of 2025), describing it as one of the few legal frameworks that explicitly recognise the contribution of caregivers. It provides a monthly stipend for caregivers of persons with severe disabilities, particularly those with mental health conditions.

“This is a huge relief to caregivers who are full-time providers of these services,” she says.

At the county level, Gor, the MCA, says the current frameworks are not fully gender-responsive. She says most of the focus is on infrastructure spending meant to address general needs across the population.

“We look forward to more specific budgeting, for example, an additional earning for female workers with children, which can help cover the cost of domestic workers and allow women to focus fully on their jobs,” she says.

Gaps also exist in supporting women who suffer GBV associated with unpaid care work.

“ GBV rescue centres exist but are underfunded and lack long-term solutions for women who return home to the same cycle of unpaid care and economic dependence,” says Kisii County Woman Representative Dorice Donya.

Local solutions offering hope

Nevertheless, some community-led initiatives are making a difference.

Daycare centres allow mothers time to go to the markets or pursue small businesses. More than 20 children are dropped off at Roset Daycare in Nyanchwa Estate in Kisii County every morning by mothers working as traders, tailors, and casual labourers.

Jackline Kemunto, a banana trader, previously carried her children to the market, costing her sales whenever she took time to attend to a child who was crying or unwell.

“Whenever business was low, and I made little, quarrels at home grew, with my husband accusing me of not working hard or hiding some earnings,” she adds.

Now with daycare, her earnings are fairly stable, and she says, “Our home is peaceful.”

“Since we started the daycare, women report better sales and less stress,” says Emily Kemunto, who is in charge of Roset Daycare. “It may look small, but it’s transformative.”

Even cultural attitudes are shifting as fathers who once avoided childcare now occasionally drop off and pick up their children.

“Wednesdays are mine,” says John Ong’era, a carpenter from Nyamira, “I pick up my son, and on the way home, I buy milk. My wife respects me more, and I respect her hustle.”

Bringing water closer home

According to Donya, access to water has also proven transformative. In Bobaracho, Kisii County, a solar-powered borehole installed in 2024 reduced water-fetching time from three hours to under 30 minutes.

“Before, I walked nearly four kilometres to fetch water, sometimes at dawn or dusk when it was unsafe,” says Milka Kemuma, a mother of five. “My husband would be angry when I returned late. Now, the borehole is 10 minutes away. We fetch water together sometimes. Even my sons help.”

Local chief Charles Ayienda says his office sees fewer domestic violence cases linked to household chores after the borehole was commissioned.

“When water was scarce, we had incessant conflicts,” Ayienda says. “The borehole has reduced both quarrels and risks of sexual harassment that women faced in forests and rivers.”

The borehole committee, which includes both men and women, ensures the resource’s transparent management and discussions, including topical issues like shared household responsibility.

The way forward: Sharing the care load

Experts stress that solutions must go beyond infrastructure. Changing gender norms is crucial.

“Men must be part of the conversation,” argues Bishop Lawrence Nyanuga, “If we do not teach boys and men to share care work, cooking, washing, and watching children, then women will continue to suffer silently.”

He adds that economic empowerment programmes should integrate land rights, access to credit, and protection from GBV.

“Otherwise, giving women skills without freeing their time or securing their safety is like pouring water into a basket,” he says.

Moraa’s unbroken dawn

As the sun sets over Nyamira’s rolling hills, Moraa sits by the fire, stirring ugali for her family’s dinner. She wonders what life would be like if her labour was valued, if she had her own income, or if her husband treated her as an equal partner.

“I do not want riches,” she says softly. “I just want respect and some freedom.”

Her words echo the silent hopes of countless women in Kisii and Nyamira Counties and many parts of Kenya and Africa whose unpaid care keeps families alive, yet their economic dependence leaves them vulnerable to violence.

Until unpaid care work is recognised, reduced, and redistributed, their dawns will continue to break the same way: with invisible labour, invisible rights, and invisible wounds.

This article was produced with support from the Africa Women’s Journalism Project (AWJP).