Bleeding in Silence: The Harsh Reality of Period Poverty in Rural Kenya 

Periods Don’t Stop for Poverty. In Kenya, menstruation is not just a biological reality, it’s a monthly crisis for thousands of girls.

A powerful new report by the Nguvu Collective and the Kenya Women Parliamentary Association (KEWOPA) titled "Echoing Voices from the Grassroots on Dignified Period for All" exposes how period poverty is keeping girls out of school, stripping them of dignity, and exposing them to exploitation.

Winfred, a 13-year-old student from Vihiga County, carefully folds a torn piece of cloth and tucks it into her underwear. It's all she has.

“Many times, I miss school when I have my periods,” she says quietly. “I fear going because the blood may leak, and the other students laugh and tease me. That’s why I stay home and wait until it’s over.”

Winfred’s story is far from unique. Across the country, thousands of girls face similar struggles every month—coping without access to sanitary towels, missing class, and living with the shame and silence that surrounds menstruation.

A recent survey by the Nguvu Collective, in collaboration with KEWOPA, has laid bare the harsh reality of period poverty in Kenya.

The findings reveal that nearly 46% of respondents believe there are not enough shops in their area selling menstrual products, while 33% reported facing or being at risk of sexual exploitation due to lack of access to these essential items.

The study, which surveyed 9,500 women and girls across 45 counties, paints a troubling picture: menstruation remains a private burden for many, especially in rural and marginalized communities where sanitary products are either unavailable, unaffordable, or both.

Frida Karani, a menstrual health advocate, notes that in many rural areas, shops often do not stock sanitary pads, not due to lack of demand, but because menstruation is still treated as a taboo.

Frida Karani, a menstrual health advocate, photo Nguvu Collective

“In some areas, menstruation is seen as a private matter. Shopkeepers don’t prioritize pads because they’re not viewed as a fast-moving product. Girls and women have resorted to using rags, banana fibers, ashes, soil, or even digging holes and sitting in them for hours during their periods,” Frida explains.

She adds that the cost of sanitary pads only worsens the problem.

“If a packet costs KSh 60 in an urban center, it may cost up to KSh 90 or KSh 100 in rural areas. For a woman earning KSh 100 a day and feeding a family of six, buying a pad becomes a luxury she cannot afford.”

Ajra Mohamed, a partnership specialist at Nguvu Collective and co-author of the report, shares the extreme lengths many go to maintain dignity during menstruation.

She highlights the experience of Harriet Afandi, a co-author from Vihiga County:

Ajra Mohamed, country representative and a partnership specialist at Nguvu Collective and co-author of the report, photo Nguvu Collective

“Harriet sometimes has to tear pieces of her clothing or use tissues to manage her periods. When she can’t afford pads, she still has to find a way to maintain dignity and avoid stigma.”

Another heartbreaking case was shared by a 15-year-old girl from Kisumu during the survey.

“She told us she sought family planning because she’s sometimes forced to sleep with men to get pads. She’s missed school many times and uses unsafe materials like mattress foam or old rags. The shame and discomfort have deeply affected her mental health.”

In 2017, Kenya launched its Menstrual Hygiene Management (MHM) Policy to increase access to sanitary towels. However, implementation remains inconsistent. Many counties lack dedicated menstrual hygiene budgets, and where they exist, allocations are often erratic.

According to the survey:

42% of respondents said government-supplied pads were insufficient.

35% had never received pads through the programme.

Only 23% felt the government supply was adequate.

Frida argues that the government must expand its reach beyond schools to include all menstruators, such as women in informal settlements, prisons, and maternity wards.

“Distribution used to be better under the previous government. Today, it's inconsistent. Sometimes, when we distribute pads at schools, girls later tell us they had to give their only pad to their mother at home. This proves it's not just a school issue, it’s a household issue.”

She urges more sustainable action:

“The government must lower the cost of pads, make them widely available, or better yet, distribute them for free through dispensaries, community health promoters, and other grassroots channels.”

Ajra adds that the issue isn’t just logistical, it’s deeply political.

“The government needs to dedicate sufficient funds for menstrual products. Even if it's just starting with schools, it would be a huge step. The Sanitary Pads Bill proposes pads for women in prisons and maternity wards too. But we keep hearing there's no money, yet this is simply a matter of misplaced priorities.”

But beyond logistical and financial barriers lies a more deeply rooted challenge—cultural stigma. Periods are still spoken of in hushed tones. Many girls are discouraged from discussing menstruation, even at home.

Ajra and Frida agree that fighting period poverty demands more than free products. It requires changing mindsets.

To effectively combat period poverty, the report recommends a multi-pronged approach:

Both national and county governments must allocate specific budgets for menstrual hygiene.

Menstrual health education should be implemented in schools to equip students with accurate information and break the cycle of misinformation.

Community leaders and influencers should be actively engaged to challenge deep-seated taboos and promote open, stigma-free conversations around menstruation.

Period poverty is a silent crisis that threatens education, dignity, and health. As highlighted by the Nguvu Collective and KEWOPA, solving it demands more than policy on paper, it needs funding, education, and societal change.

Because for girls like Winfred, dignity shouldn’t be a luxury. And periods don’t stop for poverty.