What began as a joyful Sunday School morning for 10-year-old Michelle Opondo, a time of singing, laughter, and shared memory verses, ended in confusion, fear, and a deep sense of betrayal.
As she and her 16-year-old cousin Viola Owuor were leaving church, they encountered a group of women in yellow overcoats waiting by the gate, coolers in hand. “They said they were there to vaccinate children,” Viola recalls. “Other kids were lining up. So, I told Mitchel it was okay.”
Without further explanation, Michelle was jabbed.
But something did not sit right with her. When they got home, Michelle looked pale and quiet. “Mum,” she said hesitantly, “they gave us an injection today. They said it was a vaccine.” That was the first time Achieng Opondo had heard of it.
“I felt blindsided,” Achieng says. “I’m not against vaccines. But as a parent, shouldn’t I have been informed first?”
Across Kenya, similar stories are playing out. From Nairobi’s bustling estates to quiet villages in Turkana, Meru, Bungoma, and Busia, parents are locked out of the vaccination process – uninformed, unprepared, and increasingly mistrustful.
The Ministry of Health’s renewed nationwide vaccination campaign targeting school-age children has drawn praise from public health experts. Yet, the rollout exposes critical cracks in community communication, consent, and cultural context.
“It’s not just about the jab,” Achieng says again. “It’s about communication and trust. My child’s body, my right to know.”
Confusion, consent and concern
In estates across Nairobi and beyond, the stories echo: there have been no announcements, consent forms or coordination with local leaders.
“They just appeared after service, dressed in white coats,” says Esther Wambui, a parent in Ngong.
“They stood by the church gate holding coolers.”
Some parents complied, assuming it was routine. Others hesitated, not from ignorance, but confusion.
“One nurse said it was a measles booster. Another said polio. Another said rubella,” Esther says. “Even they did not seem sure. I could not gamble with my child.”
In Busia, 37-year-old John Ouma was left fuming. “No explanation. No forms. No health talks. Just syringes at the school gate,” he says. John supports vaccines but condemns the method. “You cannot build trust by ambushing people.”
Fred Mbaabu, a farmer in Meru, is still in shock after the reported death of his three-month-old niece. “She had just received a jab. We are not sure which one,” he says. “An injection wound developed, and each day, the hole got bigger. Then she died.”
While the cause of death is unclear, Fred believes better information, faster medical response, and a proper explanation could have made a difference. “We were left confused and helpless.”
Not all parents are resisting. Many are stepping forward to support the campaign when approached. “I took all my children to get the jab when CHVs came to our nyumba kumi,” says Caroline Chepkemoi in Bomet. “We do not have time for outbreaks. But yes, they should educate us first.”
Across different counties, the tension lies not in whether to vaccinate, but how to vaccinate, and who gets to be part of the decision.
In Kakamega, 11-year-old Baraka Juma remembers being told to line up after break time. “They said not to be scared. I asked what it was for, and the teacher just said, ‘It’s for your health.’”
When Baraka got home crying, his mother was furious and confused. “I thought she was angry with me,” he says softly.
In Mathare, nine-year-old Ben Koshen recalls a prick to the arm. “They didn’t tell us the name. They just said we had to do it. Some children ran away,” he reported.
Experts warn that failing to emotionally prepare a child for vaccination creates fear and secrecy about health and undermines long-term health literacy. “We must explain what is happening, why it is good, and how to cope with the pinch,” says a CHV from Githurai.
“In the past, there was more preparation,” says Rev Daniel Kamau, a church elder. “Now they come to the gate unannounced. Even I did not know.”
What experts say
Dr Samuel Ndambuki, a pediatrician, stresses that vaccines work only when trust is intact. “Vaccines save lives. But trust saves the vaccine.”
He explains that all WHO-approved vaccines used in Kenya are rigorously tested and safe. Most reactions are mild: a little fever, a sore arm. Severe reactions are rare.
However, he adds, “No child should be vaccinated without at least implied parental awareness. Urgency is no excuse for poor communication,” he says.
Child psychologist Catherine Mugendi emphasises the need to prepare children emotionally. “We must speak to children in age-appropriate ways. Tell them what is happening and why.”
A CHV in Kiandutu, Thika, offers a sobering view from the ground.
“Sometimes we are told with two days’ notice to vaccinate whole wards. No time for barazas, no time for leaflets.”
She says they are often instructed to wait outside churches or social gatherings. “We try to speak to leaders, but sometimes we are treated with suspicion. People think we are testing on their children.”
In Mombasa’s Likoni area, nurse Halima Abubakar echoes the frustration: “We want to help. But sometimes we are the first and only face parents see, and the mistrust falls on us.”
She recalls a recent encounter at a madrasa. “We were told to leave because we had not informed the Imam. I understood. That was not the Imam’s fault – it was ours.”
Fathers matter too
Traditionally, mothers are viewed as primary caregivers, but increasingly, fathers are stepping into decision-making roles in child health.
“I want to be involved in every health decision,” says Eric Munyasia, a father of two from Nakuru. “But most campaigns speak only to mothers. We should change that,” he says.
Eric says he now asks for vaccination schedules at the clinic and keeps copies of his children’s cards. “I want my kids protected – but not at the cost of being left in the dark.”
Achieng Opondo has since taken Michelle to their local health centre. She asked questions, got answers, and now feels reassured. “It wasn’t about refusing,” she says. “I just wanted to be part of the process. This is my child—I shouldn’t be the last to know.”
“Vaccination is not just about disease prevention. It is about dignity. When children feel ambushed, silenced, or scared, they carry that fear,” Dr Mercy Cherono says.
She advises: “Talk to your children. Ask how they felt. Celebrate their courage. And if they were afraid, let them know it’s okay.”
Vaccination is not just a shot in the arm. It is a moment of trust between a parent and a system. It is a chance to teach children that their bodies matter, their voices count, and their health is shared.
“Vaccines protect our children’s bodies,” says Dr Samuel Ndambuki, a pediatrician, “but trust protects their journey through the world.”