Life after prison: Kenyan fathers rebuild lives after years of incarceration

Fathers are often viewed as providers and protectors. In a child’s life, a father’s role is more than symbolic; his presence brings a sense of stability and security.

This Father’s Day, as many will embrace the bond they have had with their fathers over the years, others will be mending deep scars created when their fathers were incarcerated. As some fathers bond with their children, other fathers who were incarcerated are desperately trying to rebuild the bond that once was.

One of those fathers is 61-year-old Aggrey Mbai. We met him at his newly rented house in Nairobi. The excited Mbai invites us into his two-room house, jokingly saying, “This house is too small and has only one chair, but we will squeeze.”

The room has one red seat, a table in the corner, books he wrote while in prison, and a computer PC and monitor that awaits reconnection. The room, a clear sign of new beginnings, is Mbai's new normal after being released from prison on 6th December 2024.

In 2000, Aggrey was arrested after a botched robbery at a house on Riverside Drive. He was sentenced to death — a sentence that was reduced to life after Kenya abolished the death penalty.

“The fourth time I went to rob with my gang was when I was arrested. It was an Indian family’s home. In one room, there were so many beds — two mattresses on each bed with money sandwiched in between. The alarm went off, and I was arrested.”

When he was arrested and sentenced, his family upcountry had no idea of his whereabouts. In the year 2000, communication was limited — no mobile phones, just letters.

“When you are in prison, it tortures you. You lose the will to live; you wonder why you are still alive. With the death sentence, you just knew you were going to die. Back then, those of us who were sentenced to death — our prison uniforms were labelled CON, meaning condemned. There are people who lost their minds because of depression. We were isolated; we were tormented mentally,” he says.

After being released, he lived with his daughter for a few months before renting a house.

“I had stayed with my daughter, and generally, it’s not good — she needs her privacy. I also needed my space to work… The bond with the kids was not that bad because their mother raised them with a church foundation. Generally, they accepted me as their father, but I know they missed the fatherly love,” he says.

Niva Mbai, the second-born and first daughter of Aggrey Mbai, was 12 years old when her father was arrested. Growing up without a father robbed her of her childhood. When her father was incarcerated, their mother had to be the provider. Niva had to be the mother, taking care of her siblings.

“I missed so much in my childhood, but the most important were the 3 Ps: Protection, Presence and Provider. We saw our mother struggling. There were days we did not have anything to eat; we lacked good clothing and school fees,” she says.

One day, while cleaning the house, Niva found a newspaper article about her father’s arrest.

“I wondered how he was arrested — that really disturbed me. Then, in that article, they said he was going to be hanged. It traumatised me a lot. I would hide and cry because I knew my father was going to die. It was not easy.”

When he was arrested, I was 12 years old; he was released when I was 36. We missed the formative years when a child bonds with their father.

Jescah Kinavode Mbai, the wife of Aggrey, says when she saw the newspaper article about her husband's arrest, she only told her parents and in-laws, then hid the paper.

Jescah talks about the challenges she and her children went through when their breadwinner was incarcerated.

“Things were not easy. I was unable to educate the children, getting food was a challenge. My family and relatives really helped. I had to be the provider. I would wake up very early to go to the market. There are times I would come back with nothing. We would drink water and tell them God will provide,” she says.

Jescah also had to speak with school heads to allow her children to get an education. After 24 years, when her husband was released, she still felt a sense of relief and protection.

“I felt so good. I knew now the defender is back. All those who harassed us and laughed will now stop. It was hard for me as a woman out there because when you talk to a man, people think you are having an affair with them.”

A few kilometres from Aggrey Mbai is 77-year-old Peter Koimbita, who was arrested on 6th June 2007 for assault. Koimbita insists that he was framed. Just like Aggrey, Koimbita was sentenced to death. He was released in 2022.

As the breadwinner, his family suffered. “I had a child who was to join Kenyatta University but couldn’t after I was arrested.”

Koimbita has seven children. When he was arrested, his lastborn was around 16 years old, in Form 2. He missed major milestones in his children’s lives.

“My family was affected because I was the breadwinner. They lacked a father figure. Even two of my children married while I was in prison. My mother died while I was in prison — it was very sad because I was her firstborn. So many things got ruined when I was in prison,” he says.

When it comes to coping, counselling psychologist Jacque Gathu says that every functional relationship requires work. For fathers who missed out on major milestones, they must show interest.

“You must show interest in the changes that have happened. Be curious to understand how they've been coping. Let them tell you about how they missed you, how they felt left out, and be bold enough to accept everything that they tell you without being defensive,” she says.

In Niva’s case, where she had to be a parent to her siblings, Gathu says she needs to be given an avenue to mourn the childhood she never had.

“So, allow her to express her disappointment. Allow her to express the fact that she wishes things were different. But then again, she cannot be stuck in the past forever because the past is the past.”
Amos Mbugua, a pastor who serves the church in prison, talks about how fathers reconnect with their families once they are out of prison.

“When a father comes out of prison, there’s always a disconnect between him and the wife and children. The Kenya Prisons Service has a way of working it out — they allow many visits from the family as the prisoner is almost getting released. The prisoner is allowed to interact with the world by being taken to a medium prison. We also counsel them,” he says.

Amos says they sensitise the community before the prisoner is released. In case the community is not receptive, the prisoner is taken to a halfway home, where they transition from prison life to general life.
Peterson Githinji, an Executive Pastor at Karura Community Chapel, says when a child is guided and trained, they become successful. When the gap is there, that child is like a student without a teacher.

“When you have so many men in prison, now the women have to raise the children. When a woman has to provide, teach, correct — it’s too much on the woman. What we have done as a church is step in as fathers,” he says.

An officer in the correctional services, who chose to remain anonymous, says that before a prisoner is released, they ensure the environment at home is conducive. They speak to the area chief, the family, and the victim.

“We look at how the community perceives this person and the willingness to have him back. We sensitise the community. In case the community is not receptive, he will be put in a temporary home. There are halfway homes, but they are privately owned.”