From left: Fransiscah Njoki, Salano Dwon Faith, Lydia Mumbua Joseph and Maggie Kyalo.
It is 5:00 am in Nairobi’s Lang’ata estate. The household is still asleep, but her mind is already racing ahead. There’s her son’s swimming kit to pack, groceries to order, a dentist appointment to reschedule, a Zoom meeting with the boss at 10 am, and a reminder to nudge the husband about next week’s parents-teachers conference. None of this is written down — it lives quietly and relentlessly in her head, a mental checklist that never truly switches off. Sounds familiar?
This is what experts call an invisible load — the unspoken, often unnoticed cognitive labour that mothers shoulder to keep households running smoothly. Many mothers describe it as project managing an entire household. From remembering that the gas is running low, to knowing which child likes pawpaw and which does not, the weight of these seemingly minor details can be exhausting.
Yet despite more conversations about equality in parenting and housework, many women say this mental load remains disproportionately theirs to carry.
In this article, we speak to five mothers from different backgrounds who lay bare what it feels like to carry this invisible load. They share candid reflections on how it affects their careers, relationships, mental health, and sense of self. Additionally, they offer practical insights on how partners and families can recognise, share, and lighten the mental burden in a way that fosters true partnership—not just token help.
Fransiscah Njoki: I delegate but end up doing the work
Fransiscah Njoki, a Business Development Officer at Pioneer Insurance and a mother of four.
I’ve been married for over 10 years and am a mother of four — three boys aged 10, 8, and 6, and a 4-year-old daughter. Alongside my professional role, I manage many home responsibilities. Motherhood is a journey with days full of laughter and others full of chaos, but I’ve learnt that it’s about showing up, even when tired.
The invisible load I carry at home comes in many forms. I manage both physical and emotional conflicts between my children, always trying to be wise and fair. I keep track of grocery needs, school events, and doctors’ appointments. Overseeing household chores to ensure they’re done properly can be draining, especially if the nanny is uncooperative — often, I delegate but end up doing the tasks myself. Planning meals that suit everyone’s preferences, coordinating morning routines (from wake-up times to ensuring school uniforms and breakfast are sorted), and caring for my fussy youngest are all part of the load I silently carry daily.
This mental load takes a toll on my well-being. Meal breaks are often interrupted with phone calls to check on things at home, leading to poor eating habits and even weight loss. I also suffer from bouts of insomnia. Emotionally, the load triggers mood swings and creates distance with my partner, especially when my efforts feel unnoticed.
I’ve communicated this burden to my husband. He acknowledges and supports me in many ways. We have open conversations to check on each other’s stress levels. At times, however, he feels I overthink and suggests minimising responsibilities, though realistically, some tasks can’t be avoided. He often breaks the monotony by planning outings or self-care treats for me, which helps.
Practically, families can make things easier for mums by sharing responsibilities — for instance, if I’m cooking, my husband helps with homework. Recreational time to unwind as a family is important. Involving children early in tasks like packing school bags or tidying their rooms helps lighten the load.
Salano Dwon Faith – I call my mum when it gets too much
Salano Dwon Faith.
I am a single mother to an amazing eight-year-old girl. Raising her is the most rewarding experience of my life, but it also carries an invisible weight. I have to ensure all her needs are met — from paying school fees and buying supplies to making sure there’s a hot meal and a safe roof over her head.
I’m also a student, currently pursuing the Advocates Training Programme at the Kenya School of Law. The demands of motherhood and this rigorous course stretch me in ways I never imagined.
Motherhood is beautiful, but few speak of its silent battles. No matter what you’re facing — stress, anxiety, or deep doubt — you have to stay strong for your child. You can’t afford to crumble in front of them. Some days, responsibilities stack so high they nearly suffocate you. Left unchecked, that weight can spiral into burnout, especially when family expectations are high and your child depends on you for everything.
I’ve realised that while family can help, no one will swoop in unasked. I’m grateful for my support system. When it gets overwhelming, I call my mother. She’ll take my daughter for a week, giving me space to breathe, reset, and regain strength. That break makes all the difference. When my family steps in — whether by helping with fees or sharing responsibilities — it eases the mental strain and helps me stay grounded.
The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that help doesn’t come unless you ask for it. Sitting my family down and speaking honestly about my struggles changed everything. We can’t assume others know when we’re drowning — we have to say it plainly. Asking for help isn’t weakness; it’s what allows me to keep showing up for my daughter with strength and clarity.
Maggie Kyalo – Raising a child is beyond physical presence
Maggie Kyalo.
I’m a single mother to one child, though my child primarily lives with their father. While I don’t shoulder the daily logistics, the mental load remains heavy. Parenting, I’ve realised, isn’t just about physical presence — it’s about constant planning, emotional investment, and an unwavering sense of responsibility that doesn’t fade when your child is elsewhere.
I stay deeply engaged in my child’s life. Every decision I make considers their best interests. I intentionally plan meaningful activities for our time together, ensure I’m emotionally available when needed, attend school functions, track academic progress, and create experiences that remind my child they are deeply loved and supported, no matter where they live.
Not being physically present daily introduces a unique anxiety. I often overthink and wonder if all is well when I’m not there to witness it. The ‘what-ifs’ swirl constantly: Are they eating properly? Is school smooth? Are emotional needs met? This persistent worry disrupts sleep, causes restlessness, and at times affects my health. Prolonged stress manifests physically, increasing risks of issues like ulcers or hypertension.
In our co-parenting setup, the father handles most day-to-day logistics and, to his credit, responds when prompted. But that’s the challenge — I have to prompt him. The responsibility to notice, anticipate, and initiate often rests on me. What I long for isn’t just task completion — it’s shared ownership. I want someone who instinctively carries part of the mental and emotional weight without needing reminders.
Raising a child shouldn’t be one-sided. I would appreciate it if he actively inquired when something seemed off, stayed engaged consistently, and regularly took on duties — like preparing for school or checking in emotionally, even when I’m not present.
Shared parenting isn’t just splitting tasks. It’s walking side by side in the emotional and cognitive journey of raising a child, so neither parent carries the invisible weight alone.
Lydia Joseph – My mind feels like it has endless tabs open
Lydia Joseph.
I’m a partnered parent with two children — my eldest is seven years old, and the youngest just turned six months. Both my partner and I work full-time jobs. I work partially from home, while he commutes to the office daily.
I’m the one who remembers dentist appointments, school project deadlines, and which snacks are approved for school. I mentally track groceries running low, shoes that need replacing, and when the baby’s next paediatrician visit is due. Beyond logistics, there’s emotional labour too — noticing mood shifts, smoothing over sibling squabbles, and managing tantrums with patience, even when I’m drained.
It’s exhausting. My mind feels like it has endless tabs open, always anticipating the next need. Even in quiet moments, I’m mentally scanning what’s coming up. Emotionally, this can breed resentment, especially when the work is invisible and goes unnoticed. Physically, I sometimes battle fatigue and disrupted sleep because my mind won’t fully switch off. It creates a steady, low-level stress that’s hard to articulate.
I have communicated this burden to my partner. Initially, it sounded like nagging or complaining. But once I found language — calling it the “mental load” or “invisible work” — it clicked. He was surprised at how much I was holding daily. Since then, we’ve made progress. He has become more involved, and we’ve divided some of the cognitive tasks, not just chores. It’s still a work in progress, but naming it helped.
To share this load more fairly, awareness is key. Acknowledge that the mental load exists. Then, sit down and list not just tasks but the mental responsibilities behind them. It’s not enough to say, “I’ll take the kids to the dentist.” True ownership means booking the appointment, remembering it, and following up. Emotional support matters too — simple check-ins like “What’s on your mind?” or “What can I take off your plate today?” make a difference. Tools like shared calendars and family apps can help redistribute the load. It’s not about helping — it’s about truly sharing ownership.
Let’s challenge gender norms and societal conditioning
Eunice Koli, a counselling psychologist.
Eunice Koli, a counselling psychologist, weighed in on today’s topic:
“I often see mental load fall disproportionately on mothers, even in households that see themselves as progressive. Deep-rooted gender norms and societal conditioning still position women as default caregivers and household managers. These roles are often unconsciously adopted, shaped by cultural expectations and systemic barriers like rigid workplace policies. Even in committed partnerships aiming for equality, mothers tend to carry more cognitive labour — tracking school events, doctor’s appointments, birthdays, and meal planning.
The consequences are significant. Women who shoulder this load alone often face persistent anxiety, stress, and emotional fatigue. Many feel overwhelmed, unseen, or undervalued, especially when their work goes unnoticed. Over time, this can lead to burnout, lowered self-esteem, disrupted sleep, and even depression. It can also strain relationships when unspoken resentment builds.
The good news is that families can take steps to distribute the load more fairly. It starts with awareness — couples should acknowledge the mental load and normalise open conversations about it. Clear communication about roles and regular check-ins to reassess responsibilities are essential. For mothers struggling to express this burden, I advise identifying specific stress-inducing tasks and using “I” statements to communicate clearly. Picking the right moment to talk and suggesting practical, collaborative solutions eases the process. Couples counselling can also offer strategies to improve communication. Patience and consistency are key — change takes time, but is achievable.”
