By Tony and Mercy

On a quiet afternoon in the informal settlement of Kahawa Soweto, Enzoya sits on his motorbike parked outside a small kiosk. He looks distant as he recalls the floods that swept through this community the past year.

For many residents here, the destruction was measured in damaged homes and blocked roads. For Enzoya, the losses went deeper, cutting into his livelihood and peace of mind.

“I couldn’t work for almost a week,” he says, shaking his head slowly. “The rain didn’t stop. Roads were flooded, my bike couldn’t move, and customers disappeared. At night, I would lie awake, thinking about how I’d pay rent, how to feed my family. The worry never left my mind.”

Enzoya’s story is one of hundreds in Kahawa Soweto and its environs, where climate change is no longer just a scientific debate but a lived reality. Last year’s floods left scars not only on the land but also on the mental wellbeing of families who were forced to adapt to a crisis they never created.

When the water levels rose, families were displaced and businesses crumbled. Yet the most lasting damage, residents say, was not visible. Anxiety, sleeplessness, depression, and hopelessness quietly spread in the aftermath.

Mental health experts explain that climate disasters often trigger chronic stress and trauma. Parents like Enzoya worried about providing for their children. Youths already battling unemployment, sank deeper into despair. In some households, financial strain sparked conflict, while others turned to alcohol or drugs to cope.

“It’s the silent suffering that nobody talks about,” Enzoya says. “You see people laughing during the day but at night, they are carrying heavy thoughts,” he adds.

For boda boda operators like Enzoya, the floods were devastating. Their daily income depends on reliable roads and every day of lost work means empty pockets. Farmers in the area lost crops to the waters and market traders watched helplessly as goods spoiled in the mud.

With livelihoods disrupted, the sense of uncertainty grew. “The hardest part was not knowing if the rain would stop or if it would get worse,” Enzoya explains. “Even now, whenever I see dark clouds, I feel uneasy. It’s like a fear that lives inside you,” he reveals.

Despite the hardship, Kahawa Soweto showed resilience. Neighbors helped each other clear drainage systems. Churches opened their doors to displaced families. And new spaces for conversation and healing emerged.

One such effort are the mental health safe space sessions facilitated by Basic Needs Basic Rights Kenya, Tabasamu Cafe and SDI Kenya.

Enzoya has been attending one of these safe spaces. “At one of the safe space sessions was the first time I spoke openly about my worries,” he recalls. “Just hearing others share their struggles gave me courage. I realized I’m not alone,” he states.

Experts say such spaces are vital. They provide not only emotional relief but also collective resilience. In the face of climate disasters, community dialogue can be as important as physical rebuilding.

 

 

Climate action too is taking on a new meaning in Kahawa Soweto. Tree planting and clean-up drives are not only environmental initiatives but also symbols of hope.

“When I join in planting trees and community clean ups, I feel lighter,” Enzoya says with a faint smile. “It gives me the belief that the future can still be better. Even small actions matter,” he declares.

As climate change continues to reshape daily life, the call is growing for governments, NGOs, and community leaders to recognize mental health as part of disaster response. Beyond food and shelter, families like Enzoya’s need counselling, psychosocial support, and safe spaces for dialogue.

“The floods showed us that climate change is real,” Enzoya concludes, staring at the road ahead. “But it also showed us how much we need each other. If we can stand together; plant trees, support our neighbours, talk openly, then maybe we can face whatever comes,” he declares.

Enzoya’s story is not just a personal testimony; it is a reflection of a community caught at the intersection of climate change and mental health. As the skies grow more unpredictable, so too does the weight on people’s minds. Yet within that struggle lies resilience; a resilience that must be nurtured if Kahawa Soweto and communities like it, are to weather both the storms outside and the storms within.

 

About the writers

Mercy and Toney are community mobilizers and among 90 youth from informal settlements in Mukuru, Mathare and Kahawa Soweto trained by Basic Needs Basic Rights Kenya, Shack Dwellers International Kenya (SDI Kenya) and Tabasamu Cafe on mental health and climate change, and are now working to build community resilience in their respective localities.