How Vihiga woman lost pregnancy, chased away while still bleeding

When 21-year-old Loice Ongayo from Chavakali, Vihiga County, first conceived in 2024, she imagined holding her newborn and beginning life as a mother in her newly married home. But that dream ended abruptly when she lost the pregnancy at just four months.

Shaken but still hopeful, she conceived again in November of the same year. Yet three months later, in February 2025, tragedy struck once more. Her second pregnancy ended in complications that left her bleeding, heartbroken—and, perhaps most devastating of all—chased away from her marital home.

“My husband and in-laws accused me of deliberately losing the pregnancies. They said I was cursed. I was sent away while still bleeding. That is how my marriage ended,” Loice recalls, her voice breaking. 

For Loice, losing two pregnancies in less than two years was not just a personal tragedy. It became the beginning of isolation, rejection, and untreated trauma.

Healthcare struggles

She remembers experiencing severe abdominal pain during her second pregnancy and pleading with her husband to take her to Vihiga County Referral Hospital.

“On that day the doctors and nurses were on strike, and I waited for long before anyone attended to me,” she said. Help came too late—she miscarried again, before even the 13th week.

Doctors later reported that chromosomal abnormalities in the foetus may have caused the miscarriages. But to her husband and family, this explanation meant nothing. They accused her of losing the pregnancies on purpose and claimed she did not love her husband.

As she bled, she was asked to leave her marital home and returned to her parents in Chavakali. “With no money for treatment, my father used herbs to stop the bleeding after the miscarriage,” Loice recalls.

The pain of losing her pregnancies was compounded by ridicule from her in-laws and a section of the community. She sank into stress and depression-like symptoms.

Silent suffering

Her guardian, Agneta Kasoha, noticed worrying changes in how the young woman was behaving, and she lost weight after losing her appetite.

“Loice has always been a friendly person. But after losing her pregnancies and facing stigma from her husband’s side and society, she became very shy and withdrawn,” said Kasoha.

Her story echoes that of many women across the country who suffer silently after losing pregnancies or infants, trapped by stigma, neglect, and the absence of structured mental health support.

Pregnancy loss, stillbirth, and early infant death are far more common in Kenya than many realise. Kenya’s neonatal mortality rate according to Ministry of Health data is around 21 deaths per 1,000 live births, with approximately one-third of these deaths due to complications from prematurity.

The country records an estimated 127,000 to 193,000 preterm births annually. Meanwhile, stillbirths number approximately 35,000 each year. The World Health Organisation (WHO) further reports that sub-Saharan Africa has the highest neonatal mortality rate in the world—27 deaths per 1,000 live births in 2022.

Nearly half of all stillbirths globally occur in the region, highlighting a huge, often invisible, burden of loss. Without improvements in maternal and newborn care, many of these losses are preventable.

In Vihiga—where healthcare facilities are under-resourced—the burden is even heavier. For every story, such as Loice’s, countless others go untold: young mothers whose pregnancies end abruptly or whose infants die before their first birthday.

Beyond the statistics are women carrying invisible wounds of depression, anxiety, and shame—often with no one to turn to.

When Sarah Munaji, 23, from Emuhaya, gave birth to twins at Vihiga County Referral Hospital in April 2024, she was filled with joy and fear in equal measure.

The babies were born prematurely at 32 weeks, weighing 1.2 and 1.1 kilogrammes, and were placed in incubators. For weeks, she prayed they would survive. But one month later, one twin developed a heart complication.

Doctors recommended urgent surgery, but Sarah could not raise the funds. “I could not afford the surgery, that’s how I ended up losing one of my twins,” she said softly.

The child had a congenital heart defect that prevented proper blood circulation, leading to organ failure. When the doctors told her that she had lost one of the twins, she feared the same would befall the other one. “I wanted to wail in the paediatric ward, but the nurses stopped me. That was the beginning of my silent and inward fight with grief,” she said.

Her surviving twin brought her comfort, but the loss of the other plunged her into sorrow. “I did not even know how to grieve. Everyone around me told me to be strong for the baby who lived. But inside, I was broken,” she said.

The twins’ father went missing, leaving the young mother in anguish with little help. Her grief was worsened by financial strain. “We sold almost everything to pay for incubator care. When my baby died, I was left with debts and no child. It felt like I had lost twice.”

Community response

Nancy Savai, from Mubita village in Emuhaya, lost her pregnancy in the fourth month last year. “They did an ultrasound and found my baby had died in the womb. I went home empty-handed and in tears,” she recalled.

She says the pain of carrying the foetus back home for burial was saddening. At the hospital, there was no follow-up counselling. She spent just one night due to lack of funds and went home without any support.

Her husband, James Mundia, remembers her crying through the nights and withdrawing from everyone. “The stress and depression that came with losing our baby girl was unimaginable, especially for my wife,” he said.

Nancy changed her behaviour, and that worried her husband, who felt she had even withdrawn from him. Later on, she regained herself after several counselling sessions with church elders.

What makes these losses worse is not only the death itself but how society responds. In many Kenyan communities, pregnancy loss is whispered about rather than acknowledged. Women are blamed, accused of witchcraft, or told they are cursed.

When a woman experiences pregnancy loss—whether through miscarriage (spontaneous abortion before 20 weeks), stillbirth (foetal death after 20 weeks), or neonatal death (death within the first 28 days of life)—she faces not only physical recovery but also significant emotional and psychological challenges.

Medical experts say the grieving process often involves postpartum grief disorder, which, if not addressed, can progress into major depressive disorder (MDD) or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Symptoms may include prolonged sadness, insomnia, loss of appetite, withdrawal from social interactions, or even somatic complaints such as chronic headaches and abdominal pain.

Linet Indiazi, the Vihiga County Head Psychologist, stresses the importance of timely support to women who undergo this traumatic loss. “When a woman loses a child, if she is not guided, she risks falling into depression. Early psychological intervention is crucial in preventing long-term mental health conditions,” she said.

Doctors recommend that women undergo psychological debriefing within the first weeks after loss. This may include cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) to address negative thought patterns, grief counselling, and, where necessary, pharmacotherapy using antidepressants or anxiolytics under medical supervision. Physical recovery is also essential.

After a miscarriage or stillbirth, women are encouraged to seek postnatal care, which includes monitoring for postpartum haemorrhage, sepsis, or retained products of conception. Nutritional support—especially iron and folate supplementation—helps the body recover.

“Equally important is community and family support, and in some cases we recommend peer-support groups, church-based counselling, or guided sessions by Community Health Promoters (CHPs) to help mothers process their grief,” Ms Indiazi said.

For many rural women, their hope lies with community health promoters as government hospitals lack enough counsellors to provide mental health therapy. This is evident in Vihiga County, where CHPs have become saviours for women who cannot access specialised treatment after loss.

Mildred Nyabera, a Community Health Promoter (CHP) in Chavakali, says the gap is glaring between a woman losing a child and the recovery process, especially mentally.

Nutritional support

“There is a huge gap in how mothers are helped after losing pregnancies, stillbirths, or infants. The healing process is left to chance, with little counselling or follow-up. Many are left in silence,” Nyabera said.

Her colleague, Sophia Orango, who manages 153 households in Mubita village, notes that these cases have long been left unaddressed. “Every six months, at least one mother in my area suffers a pregnancy loss, a stillbirth, or an early infant death. The problem is not just medical—it is also the stigma and neglect from society. Women are told to ‘move on’ instead of being given the help they need,” Orango noted.

Globally, studies show that mothers who lose babies are at least twice as likely to suffer depression and anxiety. In Kenya—where mental health services are underfunded—most women never see a counsellor.

A 2023 study by the African Population and Health Research Center (APHRC) found that fewer than 10 per cent of Kenyan parents who lost babies accessed professional mental health care. Both national and county governments report that they are working to strengthen mental health services, but stakeholders say progress is slow.

Nicholas Kitungulu, Vihiga’s County Executive for Health, estimates that 20 per cent of the county’s population is at risk of experiencing mental health issues, particularly women who lose children.

He, however, acknowledges that when the women leave the facilities, little is done and most end up suffering in silence in the rural villages. “There is a gap that we are addressing to ensure that we have follow-up sessions and journey with the women, but currently CHPs are of big help,” Kitungulu said.

Mental health checks

Recently, Thalia Psychotherapy Group, in partnership with the county government, launched the Maisha Mothers Programme in Vihiga. At its launch, the programme targeted women who had undergone loss and needed mental health services.

The programme integrates mental health checks into maternal visits and offers economic relief through the Maisha Duka scheme, which allows mothers to buy essential goods at subsidised prices. “Women who are in the situation of losing babies are not just dealing with grief—they are also struggling financially. That’s where we come in,” said Mercy Mwende, Thalia’s Chief Operations Officer.

The group, which focuses on mental health awareness and treatment, believes that rural women who have lost pregnancies or infants also deserve financial assistance. “Through Maisha Duka, we ensure they can at least meet basic household needs as they recover,” said Mwende.

Through Thalia Psychotherapy Group, the aim is that both government and non-governmental organisations can resolve cases like those of Loice, Sarah, and Nancy—stories that reflect the grief of thousands of women across Kenya.

They share the narrative that pain is not just about medical loss—it is about being left alone in their darkest moments, stigmatised by culture, and neglected by systems meant to protect them. “Every stillbirth or infant death is more than a statistic. It is a broken dream. And until we start treating it as such, mothers will continue to suffer in silence,” Mwende said.

Mental health experts warn that unless programmes like this are scaled up, Kenya risks perpetuating cycles of trauma, poverty, and silent suffering.