I want to tell this story because I have researched it, listened to it, and watched it unfold in front of me.
For a long time now, there has been a loud misconception about Kenyan marriages in the United States. Every time I hear people talk about the high divorce rate, I notice the same habit: blame the couples themselves. People argue back and forth, pointing fingers, convinced they already know the reason.
Some say the problem is Kenyan men. They argue that men come to the United States with what they call an “African mind.” In this thinking, the man expects the wife to take care of the children, cook, wash clothes, and handle all household chores, even when both spouses are working. I won’t pretend this accusation is completely false. I have seen such situations. But from what I have observed, this only affects a negligible number of marriages. It is very rare to find an African man in the United States who does not do household chores.
On the other side, men raise their own accusations. They argue that when Kenyan women arrive in the United States and start earning money, they gain freedom and begin to do whatever they want, forgetting marriage responsibilities. Again, I won’t say this never happens. It does. But just like the blame placed on men, this too affects only a few marriages.
I say this not as an outsider, but as someone who has lived in the United States. I have talked to many Kenyans who were once married here and are now divorced. I have listened to their stories carefully, without rushing to judge. And from those conversations, one truth became clear to me: the high rate of divorce is not really about these popular misconceptions.
It is about something else entirely. It is about the search for a green card or citizenship.
This realization is the reason I wrote my novel Sham Love. I wanted to expose what many people whisper about but rarely confront honestly. Like people from many other countries, most Kenyans travel to the United States using tourist visas. Once there, some overstay. Some apply for asylum. Others enter into what are commonly known as “fake marriages.” In all these situations, marriage becomes a tool, not a commitment.
What troubled me most is the mindset behind these unions. Many of these marriages are entered with only one thought: “Get papers and divorce.” From the very beginning, divorce is already planned. Love, patience, and sacrifice are not part of the foundation. Survival and documentation are.
When such a marriage collapses, people look at the couple and say, “Kenyans cannot stay married in the United States.” But they rarely look at where the marriage started. If you trace the roots carefully, you will often find illegal immigration at the center of the story.
This is not a problem unique to Kenyans. I have seen the same pattern among other nationalities as well. The difference is that we sometimes judge ourselves more harshly without understanding the deeper cause.
So the next time you hear about a Kenyan divorced in the United States, I invite you to pause. Look beyond the easy explanations about men, women, culture, or money. Ask where it all began. More often than not, you will find that the marriage was never meant to last. It was a means to an end, and once the papers came, the love was already gone.
For a long time now, there has been a loud misconception about Kenyan marriages in the United States. Every time I hear people talk about the high divorce rate, I notice the same habit: blame the couples themselves. People argue back and forth, pointing fingers, convinced they already know the reason.
Some say the problem is Kenyan men. They argue that men come to the United States with what they call an “African mind.” In this thinking, the man expects the wife to take care of the children, cook, wash clothes, and handle all household chores, even when both spouses are working. I won’t pretend this accusation is completely false. I have seen such situations. But from what I have observed, this only affects a negligible number of marriages. It is very rare to find an African man in the United States who does not do household chores.
On the other side, men raise their own accusations. They argue that when Kenyan women arrive in the United States and start earning money, they gain freedom and begin to do whatever they want, forgetting marriage responsibilities. Again, I won’t say this never happens. It does. But just like the blame placed on men, this too affects only a few marriages.
I say this not as an outsider, but as someone who has lived in the United States. I have talked to many Kenyans who were once married here and are now divorced. I have listened to their stories carefully, without rushing to judge. And from those conversations, one truth became clear to me: the high rate of divorce is not really about these popular misconceptions.
It is about something else entirely. It is about the search for a green card or citizenship.
This realization is the reason I wrote my novel Sham Love. I wanted to expose what many people whisper about but rarely confront honestly. Like people from many other countries, most Kenyans travel to the United States using tourist visas. Once there, some overstay. Some apply for asylum. Others enter into what are commonly known as “fake marriages.” In all these situations, marriage becomes a tool, not a commitment.
What troubled me most is the mindset behind these unions. Many of these marriages are entered with only one thought: “Get papers and divorce.” From the very beginning, divorce is already planned. Love, patience, and sacrifice are not part of the foundation. Survival and documentation are.
When such a marriage collapses, people look at the couple and say, “Kenyans cannot stay married in the United States.” But they rarely look at where the marriage started. If you trace the roots carefully, you will often find illegal immigration at the center of the story.
This is not a problem unique to Kenyans. I have seen the same pattern among other nationalities as well. The difference is that we sometimes judge ourselves more harshly without understanding the deeper cause.
So the next time you hear about a Kenyan divorced in the United States, I invite you to pause. Look beyond the easy explanations about men, women, culture, or money. Ask where it all began. More often than not, you will find that the marriage was never meant to last. It was a means to an end, and once the papers came, the love was already gone.
