In Memory of Mama Victor: Two Years On, the Struggle Lives Through Us

A week like this in 2024, we lost Mama Victor — not just to floods, but to a system that failed her long before the waters rose.

This marks two years since her passing. Two years of absence. Two years of carrying forward a voice that refused to be silenced, even in the face of unimaginable grief. Mama Victor was not an ordinary woman. She was forged in pain, sharpened by injustice, and transformed into a pillar of strength for countless others.

Her journey into activism was not by choice, but by tragedy.

In 2017, during the post-election violence that gripped areas like Huruma, Mama Victor lost her sons to police brutality. Victor, one of them, was simply returning home from work — an ordinary day turned fatal. Stopped by police, he questioned his arrest. That moment of resistance cost him his life. For Mama Victor, that was the beginning of a wound that would never fully heal.

But instead of being consumed by grief, she turned it into purpose.

Mama Victor rose — not just for her sons, but for every mother who had buried a child at the hands of state violence. She became a leading force within the social justice movement, eventually taking charge of the Mothers of Victims and Survivors Network. Under her guidance, the network became more than a support group — it became a sanctuary.

A fortress.

In the informal settlements, where loss is often normalized and justice delayed or denied, Mama Victor helped build a space where women could mourn without shame, speak without fear, and organize with purpose. Through the network, mothers found community, accessed mental wellness support, challenged stigma, and demanded accountability from those in power.

She reminded them — and all of us — that their children’s lives mattered. That their stories deserved to be heard. That justice, though delayed, must never be abandoned.

And yet, even as she fought for justice, the system failed her again.

In 2024, floods swept through her community — floods that were not merely natural disasters, but the result of neglect. Poor drainage systems, lack of urban planning, and indifference from the county government turned heavy rains into a death sentence for many, including Mama Victor. Her death was preventable. It was political. It was unjust.

We cannot remember Mama Victor without confronting this truth.

Her life and her death are both indictments — of police brutality, of systemic neglect, of leadership that fails the very people it is meant to protect. But they are also a call to action.

Two years later, her legacy is alive.

It lives in every mother who refuses to be silenced.
In every young person organizing for justice in the streets of Huruma and beyond.
In every demand for accountability, every protest, every community meeting, every act of courage in the face of repression.

Mama Victor taught us that grief can be transformed into power. That even in loss, there can be purpose. That the fight for justice is not a moment — it is a movement.

As we mark this anniversary, we do not only mourn her.

We honor her by continuing the work. By demanding better from our leaders. By organizing, educating, and standing in solidarity with victims and survivors. By ensuring that no mother has to walk her path alone again.

Mama Victor may be gone, but her spirit marches with us.

And until justice is no longer a struggle but a reality, we will not stop.