Problematic solutions to female circumcision
The chapter will now turn to discussing six problematic solutions and their effects on the practice.
Criminalisation
The current path to today’s criminalisation of FGM/C began over a hundred years ago in colonial laws, but took a decisive turn in 2001 with the Children Act, which prohibited the circumcision of girls under eighteen years of age.
1 This was later amended. The Children Act 2022, Chapter 141, paragraph 23, specifies the protections from harmful cultural practices affecting children, including FGM/C. Criminalisation of FGM/C was expanded a decade later to include adult women in the comprehensive anti-FGM Act of 2011. Both laws conflicted with community perceptions of wrongdoing, and for some time, the practice continued despite legal prohibitions. However, as law enforcement intensified, compliance increased.
The 2011 legislation is remarkable in its sweeping powers to arrest and prosecute a wide range of persons implicated in performing or abetting FGM/C. Who can be charged with a crime under this legislation? Basically, any member of a circumcising community who knows anything about a circumcision, or who participates in one, or who funds any part of these procedures, can face charges. Criminal charge sheets generally show that ‘victims’, cutters, premise owners, and bystanders are the main categories of accused persons, with about half of these being ‘victims’ who ‘procured’ circumcision (American Bar Association 2024:22). One can be arrested for failure to report an act of FGM/C, aiding and abetting FGM/C, allowing premises to be used, procuring FGM/C, or performing it. But in addition – and shockingly to many – this law can also charge individuals with the crime of using derogatory or abusive language against a woman who has not been ‘cut’. To many Kenyans from circumcising communities, this strikes a raw nerve, since vulgarity and mocking the uncircumcised are social norms, particularly during the circumcision season when songs and dances often make a sharp moral distinction between the cut and the uncut. And the punishments for FGM/C-related crimes are severe: aiding and abetting FGM/C carries a penalty of three years’ imprisonment, a fine of 200,000 Kenya shillings (approximately USD 1,600), or both. If the procedure results in accidental death, those involved face life imprisonment.
From the outset, affected communities viewed these laws as externally imposed rather than a response to their needs. The laws were enacted when medicalised circumcision had begun to gain traction and was linked by global health organisations to improved sexual reproductive health. This created confusion: why ban a practice that communities had adapted to improve safety? Additionally, the criminalisation of adult women’s participation in the practice raised questions about bodily autonomy and gender equality.
One notable case involved seven women arrested for undergoing circumcision in Trans Mara East, Narok County, in December 2013. When interviewed on local television, they confidently stated that their decision was voluntary and that no one had coerced them. They appeared to misunderstand, believing the law only prohibited forced circumcision. They were, nevertheless, charged with the offence of procuring FGM/C.
Following the ban and its enforcement, the practice largely moved underground. In some communities, it shifted toward performing the procedure on very young children who could not report it (Derowa
et al. 2021; Meroka-Mutua
et al. 2020). Where adolescent and young adult circumcision persisted, secrecy became paramount (Mwendwa
et al. 2020). Although unverified by academic sources, there are media reports of communities going to elaborate measures to protect participants of FGM/C. During the 2020 COVID pandemic lockdown, for example, thousands of Kuria girls were reportedly operated upon during a lapse of law enforcement.
2 Chacha (2021). Gardy Chacha, ‘New report shows over 700 girls underwent FGM in Kuria over 2020’, The Standard Online, Nairobi, Kenya, 4 June. https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/business/nyanza/article/2001414748/new-report-shows-over-700-girls-underwent-fgm-in-kuria-in-2020. Citizen TV (2020), ‘FGM continues in Kuria after schools were closed over COVID-19’, Nairobi, Kenya, 17 October. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZ91aES1ghc [Both accessed 9 July 2025]. Videos taken of these events in Migori County also show Kuria ‘warriors’ and community members escorting the girls to the circumcisers, armed with
pangas (machetes) to deter police intervention. Police raids have sometimes led to violent clashes. Regular reports of clandestine FGM/C continue to emerge in the media.
Despite these legal measures, anti-FGM/C campaigns often struggle to achieve cultural transformation. Communities generally listen to activists out of respect for the law, but activists living in the community remain ineffectual against determined traditionalists (Kiš et al. 2023; Matanda et al. 2022; Mwendwa et al. 2020).
Alternative Rites of Passage
Alternative Rites of Passage (ARPs) are the second problematic strategy aimed at ending FGM/C (see Chapters 13 and 14, this volume). Although mooted since colonial times, they were introduced to Kenya in 1996 by Maendeleo ya Wanawake (MYWO), a national women’s development organisation, and the Programme for Alternative Technology in Health (PATH), an international agency (Oloo et al. 2011; Hughes 2018). The organisers sought to demonstrate that girls could transition to adulthood without the physical ‘cut’, and encourage communities to abandon the practice. (This chapter will not repeat what is written elsewhere in this book.) Briefly, ARPs are designed to replicate all the stages of traditional initiation but without the cut. It was hoped that communities would adopt and sustain them (Prazak 2007). However, ARPs have remained largely dependent on external sponsorship, mainly from NGOs; they have not become self-sustaining. No community has organically initiated ARPs without financial or logistical support from external agencies.
One of the key challenges of ARPs is their external influence, which has led to the formalisation of cultural training into a structured ‘curriculum’ designed and controlled by programme organisers. In traditional female initiation, the period of seclusion served as a time not only for healing, but also for older women to pass on cultural values and mentor the initiates. However, in ARP, instruction is often provided by individuals who are not from the community concerned. If initiates are taught by people they will never see again, who will they turn to for guidance? If they are introduced to ideologies which conflict with their social norms, who will support them in applying this new knowledge?
As long as ARPs continue to be externally guided, they are unlikely to gain genuine community ownership. While communities may participate in ARPs for the benefits they provide – such as feasts and financial incentives – the practice remains performative rather than transformative (Prazak 2007; Hughes 2018, also Chapter 14 of this volume; UNICEF 2025). Some communities have also been known to supply a large quorum of girls for ARP graduation ceremonies to satisfy the expectations of donors and organisers.
3 Confidential information supplied to this author by a member of staff of a local NGO involved in anti-FGM/C activities in Kenya. These groups often include already circumcised girls. Other girls often undergo secret FGM/C soon afterwards.
Rescuing at-risk girls
Various initiatives have been created with the aim of supporting girls fleeing home in order to escape circumcision and/or early marriage (Archambault 2011:632–3; Kiš et al. 2023). These efforts include rescue shelters, distress hotlines, and educational support to ensure that at-risk girls complete high school. While these initiatives have achieved short-term success, they often fail to provide long-term protection due to financial constraints and other limitations, such as the challenge of reintegrating girls into their natal communities once they are no longer considered to be at risk.
One major challenge is that most shelters cannot support girls beyond secondary school, forcing them to return to their families with little or no further assistance. Families may give assurances that the girls will be welcomed back, but this is by no means guaranteed. Reintegration remains fraught with difficulties. Many girls face stigma and social alienation for rejecting cultural norms, and may be forced to move again to escape their pariah status.
The dilemmas faced by rescued girls today echo historical debates on African girlhood and social intervention in Kenya. Tabitha Kanogo’s (2005) African Womanhood in Colonial Kenya, 1900–50 provides insight into how colonial authorities, missionaries, and African communities negotiated issues such as education, marriage, and labour. Although Kanogo does not explicitly discuss modern rescue shelters or hostels, her work examines how missionary efforts to educate girls sometimes involved removing them from traditional settings deemed ‘risky’ by colonial authorities, educators, and missionaries. Schools run by the Church Missionary Society (CMS), for instance, occasionally served as spaces where girls were ‘rescued’ from practices like female circumcision and forced marriage. However, as Kanogo notes, these interventions were often motivated more by European moral agendas than by a concern for girls’ autonomy or rights.
In the worst cases today, rejection by their families and relentless community pressure drive some women to undergo FGM/C despite their initial escape. In such instances, circumcision is merely delayed, with the primary benefit being the completion of their high school education. The lack of long-term follow-up increases the risk of giving in to community demands, underscoring the need for a more sustained and holistic approach to protecting at-risk girls. Support should extend beyond adolescence, ensuring that reintegrated young women have pathways to financial independence and social acceptance. This requires comprehensive government planning and funding, making the eradication of FGM/C not just a short-term rescue effort but a life-long commitment.
An often overlooked consequence of inadequate follow-up is the legal vulnerability of women who, after years of resistance, ultimately choose to undergo FGM/C. Women unable to pay the stiff fine must serve a jail sentence, after which they return to their communities burdened with the additional stigma of a criminal record.
4 KTN News Kenya (2017). ‘It was fun and dance at Kisii women’s prisons as prisoners preach against FGM’. KTN, Nairobi, Kenya, 25 September. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-o5Eaosybrs [Accessed 9 July 2025]. This shows an interview with a prison inmate who procured FGM/C in order to be accepted by her peers. This complicates their ability to secure employment and find a marriage partner, further marginalising them. Ironically, in seeking community acceptance through circumcision, they create new barriers to reintegration.
Discriminatory targeting
A fourth major issue in Kenya’s anti-FGM/C enforcement is the perceived discriminatory targeting and selective application of the law, whereby certain ethnic groups face intensive surveillance and legal persecution, while other ethnic groups receive minimal intervention. The reality on the ground is more complex, despite an overall decline in prevalence. Decades of intervention programming have diversified FGM/C practices, altered their meanings, and shaped varying community responses to legal enforcement (Matanda et al. 2022). Observers have raised concerns about fairness, effectiveness, and unintended social consequences (Van Bavel 2023). Additionally, critics argue that the 2011 anti-FGM Act fails to protect ‘victims’ while applying broad criteria to prosecute ‘perpetrators’ (American Bar Association 2024).
The Somali and the Kisii communities, despite having some of the highest FGM/C prevalence rates in Kenya, often appear to resist rigorous enforcement (Matanda
et al. 2018). According to the latest KDHS (2022) and a UNICEF (2020) profile on FGM/C in Kenya, 66 per cent of young Kisii women underwent medicalised FGM/C, a practice that is also outlawed (Kimani
et al. 2020; Njue and Askew 2004; Van Eekert
et al. 2022).
5 This percentage for Kisii women aged twenty to twenty-four is given in Fig. 5, ‘Circumstances around FGM. Practitioners, types of FGM and age at cutting’, p. 9 of UNICEF, A Profile of Female Genital Mutilation in Kenya (March 2020). Yet, prosecutions in these communities remain rare when compared to others.
Meanwhile, members of communities with lower FGM/C rates are often arrested and publicly paraded.
6 Kirui (2020). Kiplangat Kirui, ‘Police arrest 10 women for undergoing FGM’, The Star Online, Nairobi, Kenya, 8 November. https://www.the-star.co.ke/counties/2020-11-08-police-arrest-10-women-for-undergoing-fgm?utm [Accessed 9 July 2025]. Law enforcement raids on clandestine circumcision camps in rural regions like Marakwet, Baringo, and West Pokot have escalated into violence.
7 Wafula (2023). Caroline Wafula, ‘Gang kills policeman after officers rescue 6 girls undergoing FGM in Embobut Forest’, Nation Online, Nairobi, Kenya, 12 December. https://nation.africa/kenya/counties/elgeyo-marakwet/gang-kills-policeman-six-girls-rescued-fgm-embombut-forest-4461344 [Accessed 9 July 2025]. This pattern of preferential policing is observed by other female circumcising communities and fuels defiance.
The high prevalence of FGM/C among the Kisii and Somali communities sustains social norms resistant to change, making the enforcement of anti-FGM laws more complex. In these contexts, medicalisation of FGM/C – where healthcare professionals perform the procedure – reduces its visibility and makes gathering evidence for prosecution more difficult (Parsitau 2018).
8 Damaris S. Parsitau. https://www.brookings.edu/articles/how-out lawing-female-genital-mutilation-in-kenya-has-driven-it-under ground-and-led-to-its-medicalization/ [Accessed 9 July 2025]. See bibliography. The underground and secretive nature of the practice further hinders authorities from identifying and prosecuting offenders.
Despite the legal framework established under the 2011 anti-FGM Act, prosecutions remain limited, with only 151 individuals accused under the law, and the number of victims charged with a crime outweighs that of perpetrators (American Bar Association 2024; also see Njenga, Chapter 11 of this volume). This disparity raises concerns about the legal process and potential human rights abuses. Moreover, cultural resistance remains strong, as social identity is deeply tied to traditional practices, and resistance to legal intervention persists despite the law’s comprehensiveness. Given the low rate of successful prosecutions, questions arise about the effectiveness of the 2011 anti-FGM law and policing efforts (Meroka-Mutua et al. 2021). Is the state’s failure to enforce the law due to political considerations, cultural sensitivities, or the challenge of policing new methods of evasion?
According to a 2024 American Bar Association report on FGM/C prosecutions in Kenya, 55 per cent of those charged were victims, including minors, while only 6 per cent were cutters. The remaining 39 per cent were owners of premises (16 per cent) and bystanders (23 per cent), often prosecuted for failing to report the practice.
9 These charges are made under Sections 19, 20 (a), 20 (b), 21–5, and 28 of the 2011 Prohibition of Female Genital Mutilation Act (Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions 2021). This suggests that enforcement disproportionately targets victims and their families rather than those performing FGM/C.
The broad legal definition of ‘perpetrators’ – which includes victims and bystanders – poses challenges for courts, making it difficult to apply the law consistently or secure convictions based on conclusive evidence (American Bar Association 2024). The uneven application of the law also complicates efforts to monitor and assess FGM/C prevalence. Reliance on community surveys to track prevalence may not provide a complete or reliable picture, raising concerns about the accuracy of enforcement and intervention strategies. This issue is central to the discussion of external ‘solutions’ to FGM/C continuity in the following section.
Reliance on community surveys for monitoring prevalence
The Kenya Demographic and Health Surveys (KDHS) are typically conducted every five years. These national surveys aim to update data on maternal and child health, family planning, HIV/AIDs awareness, and FGM/C prevalence. Prevalence has been on an encouraging downward trend for many years. FGM/C declined from 38 per cent in 1998 to 15 per cent in 2022. The KDHS is an important source of data on FGM/C prevalence, but it has notable limitations that affect its reliability.
One major issue is self-reporting bias. Since the survey relies on individuals to disclose their experiences with FGM/C, there is a risk of under-reporting, especially as legal and social pressures against the practice increase. Women and families may conceal or deny FGM/C to avoid legal consequences or social stigma, leading to incomplete or inaccurate data (Shell-Duncan et al. 2017).
Another concern is the lack of medical verification in the KDHS. The survey depends on respondents’ knowledge and willingness to share information about FGM/C, without verifying whether the practice has occurred. This is particularly problematic in cases of medicalised FGM/C, where the procedure is carried out in healthcare settings and may be less visible, making it harder to detect through self-reporting. Additionally, the survey methodology, which relies on household-based sampling, may fail to capture clandestine or secret FGM/C practices, especially in urban or migrant populations.
The KDHS also has limitations in tracking changes in FGM/C practices over time. It primarily focuses on women aged fifteen to forty-nine, neglecting younger girls who may undergo FGM/C at an earlier age, leading to delayed detection of trends. Furthermore, the surveys’ definitions and questioning around FGM/C can vary, making comparisons over time difficult. The surveys’ reliance on maternal reporting also poses challenges, as decisions about FGM/C may involve extended family members. Alternative approaches, such as the use of ethnographic studies and medical records, are needed to provide a more complete picture of FGM/C trends in Kenya.
Fixation with elimination deadlines
Setting clear deadlines is crucial for any project, especially one as significant as eliminating FGM/C in Kenya. The country is working towards the UN’s global target of eradicating FGM/C by 2030, which is now a few years away. However, four large ethnic groups – Somali (94 per cent), Samburu (86 per cent), Kisii (84 per cent), and Maasai (78 per cent) – still have prevalence rates exceeding 70 per cent. Given current trends, it is highly unlikely that these communities will have reduced their prevalence to even 50 per cent by 2030.
The national FGM/C prevalence has declined at a steady rate since the 1998 KDHS, dropping from 38 per cent in 1998 to 27 per cent in 2008–9, 21 per cent in 2014, and 15 per cent in 2022. If this downward trend continues, national prevalence is expected to be around 9 per cent by 2030. However, the decline within the four major circumcising communities has been minimal since 1998, explaining the persistently high rates recorded in 2020. Historical patterns also indicate that change takes time. The Kikuyu community is a good example of this.
According to UNICEF’s 2020 Profile of FGM in Kenya, the Kikuyu ethnic group had near-universal FGM/C in 1920, but this only reduced to 15 per cent by 2020, following a century of sustained campaigns. Expecting the Somali and other groups to move from 94 per cent to zero in just five years is therefore unrealistic. Without a new catalyst to accelerate change, efforts to eliminate FGM/C in Kenya may continue for another century.
Current anti-FGM/C strategies have succeeded in widely communicating the government’s opposition to the practice but have not achieved total abandonment. Addressing this gap requires new approaches, greater creativity, and a shift away from unrealistic elimination deadlines that fuel confrontation with practising communities, leading to entrenched resistance. Additionally, elimination campaigns must clarify why the right to practise female circumcision is denied under the Bill of Rights in the Constitution of Kenya 2010 while male circumcision remains culturally protected (Kenya Law 2010).
10 See the Bill of Rights, Chapter 4 of the Constitution, Articles 32, 44. Article 44 is about the right of every person to enjoy their language and culture of choice. However, Article 44(3) also states: ‘A person shall not compel another person to perform, observe or undergo any cultural practice or rite.’ Without addressing this inconsistency, opposition to anti-FGM/C efforts may persist.