Survival Journey of a
Refugee Single Mother
My name is Pendo Chobahevya, and this is my story
I am a refugee who fled my homeland the Congo (DRC) due to war. My husband was killed. I escaped to Kenya and am now a single mother of four. Every day, I fight to keep my children alive and safe.
My children and I were sent to live in the remote Kakuma refugee camp in northwestern Kenya. One day, I witnessed a horrific act of violence in my neighborhood. A woman ran to my shelter, screaming that her husband had begun killing his family. That man—a retired police officer—had already attacked his wife and one of their five children with a machete. He intended to kill them all.
Like any mother, I rushed to help. Though he tried to strike me too, I intervened and managed to get the injured to the hospital. Tragically, one child did not survive—the camp’s medical staff were too inexperienced to treat severe brain injuries. The others survived, thanks to my actions.
Instead of being recognized for saving lives, I was taken to the police, even put in a cell, and later questioned in court as a witness. I told the truth. The perpetrator was convicted and jailed. But from that moment, he wanted me gone. I began receiving death threats. Then, his relatives attacked me, destroyed my home, and tried to kill me. Our lives were in grave danger.
I sought help everywhere—from the police, the Department of Refugee Services (DRS), UNHCR, and NGOs—anyone who would listen. But no help was provided.
Eventually, DRS and UNHCR relocated us to Nairobi. But they left us with no food, shelter, or protection.
ABUSE AT UNHCR
My children and I were forced to sleep outside the UNHCR gates, not knowing what the next day would bring. I was severely beaten by a G4S security guard named Maina, who was stationed at the gate. I was hospitalized, and a police case was filed. Yet, the police, UNHCR, and G4S guards continue to collude in the daily mistreatment of refugees at the General Mathenge Joint Refugee Service Center (JRSC). There is no real service—only neglect and inhumanity. Still, I had to return, as UNHCR had not provided any alternative for my family.
MY DAUGHTER WAS NEARLY KILLED
On December 1, 2024, we were again outside the UNHCR gates when a speeding car veered off the road and struck my daughter, Aline, on the sidewalk. The driver tried to flee. When other refugees stopped him, he attempted to reverse over her. Luckily, brave people could stop the attempted murder.
The driver then grabbed Aline, put her in his car, and claimed he would take her to the hospital. Other refugees forced him to also take my son and a courageous fellow-refugee woman who insisted on accompanying them.
Instead of going to a hospital, he drove to an Indian pharmacy. The pharmacist told him he could only clean the wounds of my daughter and insisted the child be taken to a proper medical facility. The driver made frantic phone calls—apparently to the owner of the car and others—for nearly two hours, then abandoned all three beside the road.
Helpless and traumatized, they cried in the road until a kind stranger found them and brought them back to UNHCR. There I was anxiously waiting and I was relieved at first, because I saw my daughter was alive.
But at the JRSC, no medical help was offered—even though UNHCR has a medical unit on site. Other refugees contacted a well known human rights defender, who quickly arranged an ambulance from MSF (Médecins Sans Frontières). An Indian woman from the neighborhood stood by us until it arrived.
Aline and I were taken to a proper hospital. X-rays revealed a severe fracture in her lower leg. She was hospitalized for three days and her leg placed in a cast.
Even then, UNHCR showed no compassion. Protection officer Karen Kotut offered no real help despite her promises. Michele Apala, Head of Protection, refused to look into our case.
UNHCR’s protection and medical care for refugees in Kenya—whether in camps or urban areas—no longer exist.
NCCK (National Council of Churches Kenya), an NGO contracted by UNHCR to provide health services in Nairobi, is non-functional and claims it has no funding. By outsourcing core duties to so-called “implementing partners,” UNHCR only masks the truth, and by delegating responsibilities like registration and documentation to DRS, UNHCR has enabled corruption and bureaucratic overreach to go to unprecedented levels.
POLICE MISCONDUCT
The case was reported to the police, but instead of support, I faced humiliation and serious death threats. Both the driver and the officers pressured me to drop the case, warning of dire consequences if I refused. The real lawyer assigned to assist me myself was also threatened—by the very traffic police officer handling the case, who meanwhile left the force.
I later discovered that this officer had secretly engaged a lawyer on my behalf—someone I had never met or authorized. I was tricked into signing a document I couldn’t read or understand, under the false pretense that it was only to obtain an OB number for the police report. This lawyer was never my choice. No evidence confirms the case was filed in court, and we’ve seen no proof of proceedings. We believe this “lawyer” was appointed solely to bury the case, especially since the driver is reportedly the mechanic of a police officer who owns the car.
Since then, fear has ruled our lives. I constantly look over my shoulder, afraid of what might happen next. This fear cripples my ability to work, move freely, or seek help. Every day feels like walking through a storm with no shelter. Strangers track us down, asking where we live. On my way to work, I was violently attacked by someone who had followed me. Only the intervention of bystanders saved me.
Without protection or support, rebuilding a stable life is nearly impossible. We need safe housing, food, basic supplies, and a chance for my children to return to school. Most of all, we need safety and stability to begin healing.
HELP IS COMING
Due to the threats, the human rights defender secured shelter for me and my daughters at SHOFCO (Shining Hope for Communities), a grassroots organization in Nairobi, and later at the Kenya Women & Children’s Wellness Centre—both providing critical protection for survivors of violence. My sons he placed at Dagoretti Children’s Home. These safehouses offered vital refuge from the driver and his accomplices, including police officers. We are deeply grateful.
After our safehouse time we got resettled to the community and were helped by SHOFCO and the human rights defender to restart our life. Unfortunately UNHCR did not help us with anything until today.
Yet, I remain in hiding with my children. We still have no stable home, income, or safety. I continue fighting for justice, protection, and the right to raise my children without fear.
A second lawyer took on my case, but both he and his young associate were threatened—by the same police-linked lawyer and officers who obstructed justice from the start.
Present Challenges
My life—and the lives of my four children—is defined by fear and uncertainty. We survive day by day with almost nothing. I have no stable home, and each month I struggle to pay rent. Some months, I can’t pay at all. We are forced to move constantly, carrying our few belongings, terrified of being thrown into the street.
Food is another daily battle. There are nights we go to bed hungry because I cannot afford even the simplest meal. As a mother, nothing hurts more than watching my children cry from hunger, trying to comfort me while their stomachs growl. Their strength breaks my heart.
My children are not in school. I cannot afford fees, uniforms, books, or transport. They ask me every day when they can return—when they can learn, dream, and feel like normal children again. I have no answers. How can they dream when survival is all we can manage? I have fought tirelessly to protect them.
I am doing everything I can to keep my children alive and safe, but I cannot do it alone anymore. I am asking for help so we can have a chance to live with dignity, so my children can eat, sleep safely, and go back to school, and so we can start building a future that is not filled with fear and suffering.
I appreciate the help by PUGNA MALUM Sntl. and CW.Center very much, who made it possible to let You and the World hear now with this blog about my journey and our life. We have great hope that it will turn our fate for the better.
“I am asking for help—not just to survive, but to live with dignity. I need a safe home, food on our table, medical care, and a chance for my children to go back to school. With support, we can begin to heal, to hope, and to build a future free from fear.
Thank you all !
With Hope and Love,
Pendo Chobahevya
M-PESA NUMBER: +254-119-065792 (name registered and shown with the correct transfer is Teresia Murugi) – please help us to survive!
Please Help This Family Rebuild Their Future
Your support can make the difference between fear and safety for this mother and her four children. Right now, they are struggling without stable housing, food, or access to school, and every day is a fight for survival. With your help, they can finally have a safe place to sleep, nutritious meals, medical care, and the opportunity for the children to return to school. Your kindness can give them the stability they have been desperately seeking and allow them to begin rebuilding their lives with dignity and hope. Every contribution, no matter the size, brings them one step closer to safety, healing, and a future they can look forward to.
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N.B.: From outside Kenya and for those well-wishers who do not have MPesa, we recommend to get started sending money to such serious cases of people in need and your loved ones by simply using SENDWAVE (formerly WorldRemit) or FLUTTERWAVE . Download the app, link your debit card or bank, verify your identity and quickly transfer money to your friends and loved ones. Seriously, it’s that simple and secure, especially if you send money to a SafariCom number in Kenya registered with MPesa.
Scan this QR code with your phone to download the SENDWAVE app:
Scan this QR code with your phone to download the FLUTTERWAVE app:
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