In brief
Kenyan society is witnessing a cultural shift as a growing number of men, especially in the Kikuyu community, take their mother's first name as their surname. This trend is stirring both support and ridicule, with some seeing it as recognition of female influence and others questioning masculinity. Politicians, musicians and ordinary citizens are leading the change, prompting discussions about inheritance rights, identity, and the evolving role of women in a traditionally patriarchal society.
Traditionally, Kenyan children bear their father's first name as a surname. Yet an increasing number of men are turning this rule on its head, adopting the first name of their mother as their family name. The practice is especially common among the Kikuyu, Kenya’s largest ethnic group, and has become a focal point for debate and ridicule.
While women who use their mother’s name tend to avoid criticism, men do not. Critics argue that a female surname weakens a man's identity in a patriarchal society, whereas proponents claim it reflects shifting attitudes and the rising influence of women in public life. Politicians such as MP John Njũgũ Wanjikũ—whose nickname literally means “child of Wanjikũ”—are public examples of men successfully carrying a mother’s name.
The trend dates back to pre‑modern times when polygamy created large families. Children were identified by their mothers’ names to avoid confusion. But formal adoption of female surnames is a new phenomenon, gaining momentum in recent years as single‑mother households become more common.
When you take your mother's name, it means you love and respect her
Musicians such as Wa Esther, a veteran benga singer, have popularised the practice. He registered his record company as Wa Esther Productions and says that the rhythm of his music is an ode to his mother. The headline of the music industry has shifted in recent years: posters for acts like Waithaka wa Jane and 90K Ka Msoh display traditional female‑surname branding.
Not everyone is comfortable with the shift. Journalist Simon Macharia Wangũi, raised by his grandmother after his mother’s death, explains that he chose the surname to honour his mother and to acknowledge the absence of his father. He says that “people will see you as having beaten the odds” if you succeed under a female surname. Yet others, such as TV personality Fred Mũitĩrĩri, have felt the pressure to drop the name and adopt a purely English or Kikuyu first name, citing ridicule from peers.
Some cultural experts argue the practice is rooted in Kikuyu legend. Wairimũ Mũkũrũ explains that historically, the community traces its lineage from the ten daughters of its founding mother, Gikũyũ and Mũmbi. She notes that while single mothers are becoming more common, many sons of unmarried women are still given male surnames, creating tension about inheritance rights. Pokey Mũgwe wa Njũhĩ of the Kiama Kĩa Ma group counters that “we align ourselves with women from the very beginning.”
Academic George Gathigi at the University of Nairobi believes the shift reflects a broader move toward gender equality, especially when male responsibility has been abandoned. He warns that normalising female surnames may “badly shape” cultural perceptions, but acknowledges that the tradition of recognising a mother's role has been present for generations.
Ultimately, the rise of female surnames among men in Kenya illustrates changing social values: the respect for women’s agency, the fluidity of identity, and the powerful cultural debate surrounding the future of kinship naming practices in an evolving African society.
