For decades, turning 30 cast a long shadow over Kenyan womanhood. Families treated it like a ticking clock. Weddings were supposed to be done, children already welcomed, and a home, preferably owned, established. It was an unspoken but deeply understood timeline, reinforced at family gatherings across Kenya’s Nairobi estates, in Kiambu’s banana farms, and in Machakos homesteads. For many Kenyans aged 30 and above, the festive season has long carried a quiet dread: the journey home comes bundled with interrogation. Family gatherings turn into informal review panels, where uncles and aunties ask pointed questions about marriage and children. Parents, often…