Rose has reluctant eyes and a wide smile. A woman of nearly 25 years with a slender build and attractive features, her hair is pulled back in elaborately styled cornrows. Her birthday is tomorrow, June 23rd. The women here at Mother’s Concern, a community-based organization in the Kayole neighborhood of Nairobi, proudly declare that they will be cooking her chapati for her birthday and I let out a small nose laugh. Chapati is Kenya’s tortilla, a simple flour and water mixture that would leave any American child in a tantrum-like fit had that been all they received for their birthday. Rose was excited.

The room I am in is full of women with challenging stories of emotional loss and physical oppression. A still beam of sun light pours in through the crack in the doorway and flies pester us from time to time. On occasion an enchanting “Kenyan smell” of burning wood and diesel fuel wafts through the windows. The women in my company are widows and battered wives. They are extremely shy and reluctant. However, they generally open up after a bit of intentional conversation and time. Some have families that they are solely responsible to support and some are engulfed with fear of their husbands. It is a reality that I am not familiar with.

UB40′s only hit “Red Red Wine” rings on Rose’s mobile phone and she answers it quietly. Whoever is on the other end is someone she cares for deeply; I can tell by the way she speaks. Maybe it is news of her children at school or maybe she is still in communication with her husband. He abandoned her at age 23 (she doesn’t look older than 18) and left with their two children, ages 5 and 2.

The women that I met in Kenya are resilient. They are what is driving the country forward. However there still is the agonizing reality of a woman’s life in Kenya. This is the reality of Rose.