The Orphan Has a Mother

I’m going to start by saying I feel a bit incompetent tackling this topic. I’ve had roughly two weeks of exposure to something that has been developing over many years, and I’m trying to explain a movement that has already come incredibly far and still has a long way to go. So if you are deeply educated in orphan care reform, please extend me a little grace. I’m simply sharing what I’m learning.

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to sit in on a county-wide meeting hosted at the Send Relief training center. The meeting was led by the government coordinator overseeing all CCIs in the county. A CCI stands for Child Care Institution. That doesn’t automatically mean orphanage. Some CCIs are emergency shelters, rehabilitation centers, or temporary placement homes. But most of the organizations present were what most of us would recognize as traditional orphanages.

There has been a major movement happening not only in Kenya but globally around orphan care reform. The growing consensus among child welfare experts, governments, and nonprofits is that long-term institutional care should no longer be the default solution for vulnerable children. Kenya has fully joined that movement, and the government has made something very clear: child care institutions must reform or eventually close.

I’ll be honest, that didn’t shock me at first. I’ve been traveling to Kenya for years and have heard similar warnings before with very little visible action. But this time felt different. There is now a real deadline. By 2032, traditional orphanages in Kenya, as we currently know them, are expected to be gone.

That statement raises obvious questions. If orphanages disappear, where do the children go? And what exactly is wrong with orphanages in the first place?

Before I answer that, let me clarify something. The goal is not to abandon vulnerable children. Kenya is not trying to shut down support systems and simply send children away. The goal is transformation. They want to move away from models that unintentionally create harm and toward models that strengthen families and communities. Now I’m about to share something that may surprise you.

Most children living in orphanages are not actually orphans.

Read that again. Most children in orphanages are not parentless. In fact, current data suggests nearly 80% of children living in orphanages in Kenya have at least one living parent. These children are often called social orphans. They are not institutionalized because both parents have died. They are there because their families are overwhelmed by poverty, crisis, disability, abuse, instability, or lack of resources. They need food, education, safety, and medical care, and their families simply cannot provide those things alone.

If that sounds hard to believe, I understand. The word orphan immediately makes us picture a child with no parents and no family. But if I’m honest, this statistic didn’t shock me. Because I’ve seen it. I’ve volunteered in orphanages across Africa. I’ve met grandmothers. I’ve seen fathers standing outside on the road. Children light up retelling about weekend’s visit with mama. So when I heard the 80% statistic, my reaction wasn’t disbelief. It was recognition. That tracks. One statement from Kristen lodged itself deep in my heart. She said,

“You shouldn’t have to choose between education and family.”