By Caroline Katana
In Kwale County, widowhood often marks the beginning of another struggle.
Beyond the grief of losing a spouse lies a painful battle over inheritance, delayed pension benefits and financial survival. Faced with legal disputes and dwindling family support, many widows are creating their own financial safety nets through savings groups and SACCOs, demonstrating how resilience can fill the gaps left by formal social protection systems.
Two weeks before he died, Tagavuma Haji Saria’s husband called her to his bedside with one final request.
“Whatever happens, don’t leave this home. Stay here with our children. Everything we built is here.”
Those words have remained etched in her memory for the past 16 years.
Today, the 57-year-old still lives in the same compound in Zigira Masindeni village, Kinondo, Kwale County. But life after her husband’s death on January 18, 2010, turned into a battle she never anticipated after nearly three decades of marriage.
Instead of being allowed to grieve, she found herself fighting to keep the home she had built alongside her husband.
His relatives wanted her to leave the matrimonial home and return to her parents.
“My husband’s siblings told me to go back to my parents’ home. But before he died, he had warned me never to leave because everything we had worked for was here,” she recalls.
She refused.
Tagavuma sought justice at the Kadhi’s Court, which ruled that she was entitled to remain on part of the family land. Despite the judgment, she says her late husband’s relatives later took over the farmland they had cultivated together, leaving her with only the small parcel where her house stands.
“The court ruled in my favour, but the struggle never ended,” she says.
For Tagavuma, widowhood did not simply mark the end of one chapter—it marked the beginning of another. She was left to raise three children alone while protecting her home and rebuilding her life.
Yet amid the hardship, she found something more valuable than financial assistance.
She found women whose stories mirrored her own.
The first time she attended a meeting of Tuajali Wajane SACCO, she found widows speaking less about their pain and more about their future.
Some had been evicted from matrimonial homes. Others had spent years waiting for pension benefits. Many had no formal employment.
Yet every meeting ended the same way: members contributed whatever they could afford into their collective savings.
Some saved as little as KSh200.
No one was judged by the size of their contribution.
“It taught me that saving is not about having a lot of money. It is about preparing for tomorrow with the little you have today,” says Tagavuma.
That lesson is quietly transforming lives across Kwale County.
In Mivumoni, deep in the Shimba Hills, about 100 widows once faced similar uncertainty after losing their spouses.
After learning about Tuajali Wajane Kwale SACCO, they sought guidance on improving their financial future.
They organised themselves into 10 widows’ groups, which later joined the SACCO.
While some women were unable to join because of personal and financial challenges, those who did found more than a place to save.
They found a community.
Today, Priscillah Chulu, who chairs the 10 Mivumoni widows’ groups, says the initiative has transformed how many women view money and financial security.
Her own journey into widowhood began in 2004 when her husband, an engineer with Tracon Limited in Mombasa, died while still in service.
Unlike many widows who spend years pursuing benefits, Chulu accessed her husband’s National Social Security Fund (NSSF) dues without major obstacles because they had formalised their marriage and he had listed her as his next of kin.
“It saved me from many disputes. But I quickly realised that many widows were not as fortunate. Some lacked marriage certificates, while others did not know whether they had been named as beneficiaries,” she says.
Many had also never developed a savings culture because they believed retirement planning was only for people in formal employment.
Today, Chulu encourages every widow—and every family—to think differently.
“Whether you earn a salary or make a living through small business, farming or casual work, save something. You may think it is too little, but one day that small saving can educate a child, start a business or help you survive a crisis.”
Members contribute according to their ability, with a minimum monthly saving of KSh200.
Using a digital platform, they save, apply for affordable loans and repay them through their mobile phones.
Many have used the loans to pay school fees, expand businesses, invest in vegetable farming and meet family emergencies without turning to expensive lenders.
For Mwanasha Gaserego, Founder and Executive Director of Tuajali Wajane Kwale, this is exactly the transformation the organisation envisioned.
“We did not want to create dependency. We wanted widows to discover that they can rebuild their lives through discipline, saving and supporting one another.”
Today, the organisation supports more than 302 widows across Kwale County.
Besides promoting savings, it trains women on financial literacy, inheritance rights, climate-smart agriculture and income-generating activities, helping them become economically independent while reducing their vulnerability.
Kwale County Gender Officer Nelly Amoite says economic empowerment is one of the most effective ways of protecting widows’ rights.
“When a woman has savings or a reliable source of income, she is less vulnerable to exploitation, property grabbing and discrimination.”
She notes that many widows become both mother and father after losing a spouse, making financial resilience essential rather than optional.
The lessons emerging from Kwale come at a time when millions of Kenyans remain financially unprepared for retirement.
According to Retirement Benefits Authority (RBA) Deputy Director of Legal Services Antony Kiarahu, Kenya has an estimated workforce of about 28 million people, yet only seven million have retirement savings, with just four million contributing consistently.
This means the majority of workers—particularly those in the informal sector—risk growing old or leaving their families without adequate financial protection.
Kiarahu says retirement planning should not be viewed as something reserved for formal employment.
Farmers, fishermen, boda boda riders, traders and other self-employed Kenyans can also develop a savings culture while ensuring their beneficiary and next-of-kin details remain updated.
Beyond encouraging saving, he says many widows struggle because they do not understand how retirement benefits are managed after a loved one’s death.
He explains that under Section 36A of the Retirement Benefits Act, trustees of retirement benefit schemes—not the courts in the first instance—have the legal responsibility to determine who should receive a deceased member’s benefits.
The beneficiaries may include a surviving spouse, children and other dependants.
“The Law of Succession does not automatically apply when distributing retirement benefits. Trustees must identify the rightful dependants and ensure the benefits are shared fairly,” says Kiarahu.
He explains that the law gives trustees flexibility to examine each case individually.
For example, an employee may have nominated his mother as next of kin when joining a retirement scheme but later married and had children without updating the records.
“In such cases, trustees have the authority to intervene and ensure justice is done. This helps families resolve disputes without immediately resorting to lengthy and expensive court processes.”
Where beneficiaries disagree with a trustees’ decision, Kiarahu says they can first lodge a complaint with the Chief Executive Officer of the Retirement Benefits Authority under Section 46 of the Act.
If dissatisfied with the outcome, they may appeal to the Retirement Benefits Appeals Tribunal under Section 47 before pursuing the matter in the ordinary courts.
He says succession disputes remain a major challenge.
“About 20 per cent of the appeals handled by the Tribunal involve succession matters, including disputes involving widows, children, separated spouses and children born outside customary marriages who are still recognised as dependants.”
According to Kiarahu, children account for the largest proportion of complaints involving retirement benefits, highlighting the importance of keeping beneficiary records updated and discussing financial planning long before tragedy strikes.
Back in Kinondo, Tagavuma continues to attend the widows’ meetings.
She still contributes only what she can afford.
Some months it is KSh200.
Some months it is a little more.
She no longer measures wealth by the amount she deposits, but by what those savings represent.
After losing her husband, fighting for her home and rebuilding her life from almost nothing, she has learned that financial security does not begin with a permanent job or a large income.
It begins with the decision to save.
Across Kwale County, hundreds of widows are proving that small, consistent contributions—combined with determination and solidarity—can become a powerful financial lifeline.
Their story is about more than widowhood.
It is a reminder to every Kenyan that tomorrow is never guaranteed, but preparing for it is a choice.
Whether earned from a market stall, a fishing boat, a farm or a monthly salary, every shilling saved today could become the hope a family depends on tomorrow.
