Introduction
Nearly a century has passed since the first laws against female circumcision (as it was then known) came into effect in Kenya. Since about 1925, the morally charged language of the ‘female circumcision crisis’ – framing individuals as ‘perpetrators’ and ‘victims’ – has either driven these practices underground or forced communities to abandon them.
A colonial document from 1930 highlights a strikingly modern dilemma:
It is doubtful if these Resolutions have had a very considerable effect. Where perpetrators and victims combine to evade the law and public opinion is united to condone the offence and to conceal the offenders it is difficult to obtain convictions.
1 Female Circumcision / 4 / 1930. In the file ‘Kikuyu Circumcision Ceremony, Part 1’. CO 533/393/10, GC 30/7. The National Archives, London.It is as if the voice of a past government – oppressive and colonial – still echoes today in Kenya. While a century of interventions may have shifted public opinion against FGM/C,
2 The author will use both ‘FGM/C’ and ‘female circumcision’ where appropriate, and ‘FGM’ when referring to Kenyan laws that proscribe it. with few openly advocating for it, some communities and individuals remain willing to resist prohibitive laws at great personal risk. Just as in 1925, those committed to the practice continue to unite in defiance of the law, shielding practitioners and concealing their actions.
Understanding how punitive laws, such as the 2011 Prohibition of Female Genital Mutilation Act (hereafter the anti-FGM Act), affect diverse communities requires acknowledging the complex and painful colonial legacy of legal interventions. Now, in 2025, as we reflect on this troubled centenary, it is crucial to ask: what lessons have been learned? And where is this legally and morally charged controversy – this ongoing ‘circumcision crisis’ – headed? Even though many communities have abandoned FGM/C, its persistence continues to confound its opponents.
Such questions have both driven and unsettled me as a Kenyan female and a medical practitioner. While I agree with the movement towards abandonment of FGM/C, I am deeply concerned with how this is being implemented. The title of this chapter is intended to provoke discussion and create space for confronting uncomfortable truths. In dialogue with the extensive research on FGM/C in Kenya, my aim is to critically examine how legal interventions – both colonial and postcolonial – have shaped the practice on the ground, particularly from the perspective of a medic who has even challenged the anti-FGM Act as unconstitutional in a court of law (Ahmadu and Kamau 2022; Kenya Law 2011; see also Van Bavel et al., Chapter 10, this volume).
A central section of this chapter, ‘Some awkward propositions’, challenges some prevailing assumptions by addressing three medical realities that complicate the anti-FGM/C discourse. First, circumcision – whether male or female – is not necessary for positive health outcomes or increased life expectancy. Second, while the health consequences of female circumcision have been widely condemned, the extent of medical complications has sometimes been exaggerated, requiring a consideration of how there may be a disconnect between lived experiences and reported data. Third, an emerging gender disparity in the medicalisation of genital cutting reveals a troubling imbalance: while male circumcision is increasingly provided under stringent medical controls at national and county levels, female circumcision continues in clandestine settings without oversight or safety measures, raising ethical and policy concerns.
This chapter also examines how proposed solutions to the ‘problem’ of female circumcision may, in some cases, negatively impact the very communities they intend to help. Criminalisation has driven the practice underground, while Alternative Rites of Passage (ARPs), and the rescue of ‘at-risk’ girls, often disrupt social structures in unintended ways. Additionally, the selective targeting of certain ethnic groups – given the sensitivity of ethnic politics in Kenya – raises ethical concerns about discrimination. The reliance on community surveys to track prevalence presents methodological challenges, and the global fixation on elimination deadlines risks prioritising symbolic victories over meaningful engagement with affected communities.