Fatherhood: Becoming a dad gave me someone to belong to, who calls me 'Dad.'
It’s a story often recounted in hushed tones — a high school boy gets a girl pregnant. The news spreads like wildfire, followed by blame games, finger-pointing, panic, and, in many instances, a disappearing act. For most, it marks the beginning of a long decline: lost dreams, strained families, and the end of any sense of normalcy. But for a select few, the story takes a different turn.
These boys didn’t run. They stood their ground. They stayed and chose to become fathers, even before they’d fully become men.
This isn’t a story that glorifies teenage parenthood. It doesn’t promote recklessness or romanticise early fatherhood. Instead, it confronts the raw and unfiltered reality of young boys who had to grow up far too quickly. At an age when their peers were still asking their parents for lunch money or debating which sneakers to buy, these young men were figuring out how to buy nappies, stay present, and raise children they had not planned for.
How did they navigate the chaos? Did the relationships with the girls last? Were their parents supportive or furious? How did they provide for a family when they barely had enough for themselves? How did they deal with stigma, school, survival and the silent weight of failure?
You may not know their names, but you’ve met boys like them. Maybe he’s your cousin who quietly dropped out of the social scene. The neighbour’s son, who suddenly started selling mitumba. Or that classmate who now carries a toddler on his back while running errands.
Behind the silence is a storm — love, fear, mistakes, and choices made in panic or hope. These boys learnt fatherhood by fire — through missed meals, tearful lullabies, and whispered apologies. They didn’t plan to be fathers. But when life knocked, they answered, not with perfection but with presence. And in a world that’s quick to judge young fathers, it’s time we listened.
We spoke to three young men who became fathers in their teens. Their stories are filled with detours, broken dreams, deep doubts — and also, moments of hope, quiet wins and a deep sense of responsibility. They’re not heroes. They’re not cautionary tales. They’re just boys who became dads and chose not to disappear.
Silas Ingoi, an orphan from a tender age, became a father at only 15.
Silas Ingoi (Prince Zeno) – Fatherhood gave me a sense of belonging
I became a dad in 2007, just before I turned 15. Honestly, I didn’t believe it myself. I was just a boy. She was also young, and we were in the same school. When she told me she was pregnant, it felt unreal. But she wanted to keep the baby, and I supported her. I’ve always loved kids, and something in me told me I wanted to be there.
I am an orphan and was living alone, so there was no parent to report to or seek guidance from. She, on the other hand, had a family, and they didn’t take the news well. I stood by her firmly, happy that I was soon going to be a dad.
Everyone around us was shocked; they couldn’t believe someone my age had taken responsibility.
What pushed me to step up was the desire for companionship. I longed for someone to call family, someone who was truly mine. We raised our baby together. Life was not easy. I had to fetch water to earn a little money. Later, I started making local brews to make ends meet.
I managed to finish primary education, then I joined a hospitality college because I needed skills to earn more money for upkeep.
Providing for our child at that age was the hardest thing, especially when the baby got sick. But I had to be strong. There was no one else. No friends. No family. Just God. He carried me through my darkest moments.
The relationship with my son’s mother didn’t work out, and in 2012, I took full custody of the child. It was an amicable agreement; I later learnt she got married. We haven’t been in touch since 2012.
I eventually married a wonderful woman who accepted my son as her own. We have four other children, three girls and a boy, and are expecting our lastborn.
Becoming a dad gave me someone to belong to, who calls me “Dad.” That’s my proudest achievement.
If I could go back, I’d focus more on education. But I don’t regret becoming a father. It’s a blessing. Life can change overnight, and when it does, you have to accept and stand up to it.
To any teenage boy going through this: first, accept. Then talk to someone. Don’t hide. Mistakes happen, but that’s not the end of someone’s story.
James Kimweli was 19 when he became a Father. He deferred his University studies to provide.
James Kimweli – I’m grateful for my mum’s support
I was a 19-year-old engineering student when I met her — an 18-year-old education student — during a long holiday in Mwingi in August 2022. We clicked instantly. Our relationship grew fast, and before long, she was pregnant.
The news hit hard, but I chose to face it with courage and responsibility. My mother had raised me to be accountable, and I couldn’t imagine walking away from something I helped create.
Of course, it wasn’t easy. We faced stigma and whispers from some relatives and the community. But instead of breaking us, it made us stronger. We chose love and gave ourselves hope. My mum stood with me. She encouraged me to stay strong and be present, not just as a father, but as a partner. Her support helped me more than words can express. Eventually, the girl’s family also came around. They saw my commitment and started supporting us too.
I made the hard decision to defer my third year of university so I could fully support my partner and our unborn child. I took up menial jobs — anything to earn a little and ensure we had something to survive on. I didn’t want her to drop out either. I had to make sure we both stayed afloat.
When our son, Eutychus, was born, our parenting journey began in earnest. My late mother came to stay with us for a month, teaching us how to care for the baby. It was exhausting, emotionally and physically, but also beautiful. I worked multiple jobs, often at the same time, to make ends meet. But the joy of seeing my son’s smile every day made it all worthwhile.
Today, my father — an only child himself — is a proud grandfather. I have no regrets, only lessons and gratitude. To any teenage dad out there: take responsibility. Don’t run. Don’t abandon the child or the mother. Stand by them — slowly, things fall into place.
Society should stop looking down on young dads who step up. We need support, not shame.
Wilfred Wambani – I forgave myself for not stepping up sooner
In 2006, when I was 15 and in Form One, my mum visited school with shocking news — a girl was pregnant and claimed I was the father. I didn’t confirm or deny it. I chose to stay neutral until I was sure. But the anxiety consumed me. I barely slept that term, often sneaking out of bed just to sit and think in the hallway or classroom.
The truth is, I didn’t understand dating or sex. I was just curious, trying out what I’d seen or heard. There was no real relationship. I wasn’t around during the pregnancy. Out of anger, she and her parents swore never to bring the child to me.
My dad defended me fiercely, quietly frustrating any attempts to force me into marriage. The stigma she faced was intense. People called her names. I, on the other hand, was left alone, not praised, not shamed.
Twelve years later, her mother called me. “Willy, unapanga aje na mtoto wako? (What plans do you have for your child?).”
I’d forgotten the entire incident , assuming the child wasn’t mine. She sent me a photo, unclear, but something clicked.
One day, while herding cows, I saw a little girl at our gate who resembled me. I welcomed her, gave her tea, and told her we were resolving things with her mum. “Nichukue (Take me),” she said. I promised she’d come after school closed.
Weeks later, I visited her in school. The moment I saw her walk toward me, I held back tears. She wept too. From that day, she became mine. I take care of everything. She only visits her mum on holidays.
I abandoned my music aspirations so I could focus on educating her. Taking responsibility and forgiving myself were the most challenging aspects. But now, she’s my friend. We laugh, talk about life, and she lights up every time she sees me.
A psychologist’s perspective:
Teenage pregnancy—whether your child is expecting or responsible—presents one of the most complex and emotional challenges a parent may face. It calls not just for reaction, but for wisdom, maturity, and structured support.
First, remain calm. Avoid immediate blame or denial. Your son may also be shocked or scared. Support him emotionally while holding him accountable. Engage the girl’s family respectfully to agree on co-parenting roles and support systems. It’s advisable to involve a teen-friendly counsellor, social worker, or children’s officer to help mediate and guide both families. The goal is to focus on the child’s best interest, not just family pride.
The Children Act, 2022, holds both minors jointly responsible. In cases of disagreement, the Children’s Court or a children’s officer can guide co-parenting and support arrangements in the child’s best interest.
Teen pregnancy isn’t a death sentence — it’s a turning point. As parents, respond with empathy, not shame. Guide without condemning. Teach accountability, support reintegration into school or skill training, and ensure that both teens — and the child — are surrounded by love, structure, and possibility.
What if your minor son impregnates an adult woman?
Legally, a minor boy cannot consent to sex. The woman is criminally liable under the Sexual Offences Act, regardless of circumstances. He is the victim and is entitled to protection, care, and psychological support, even as families discuss paternity and childcare.
Faith Koli is a counselling psychologist based in Nairobi.
