From Division to Understanding

When women show up for each other, something powerful happens. But sometimes, we first have to unlearn what stands between us.

I remember the first time I joined campus. We were supposed to share a cubical room—four girls. Two of the ladies belonged to the same tribe and the other two of us came from different communities. It seemed like a simple arrangement, but it carried unspoken lines.

There were many tribal stereotyping stories I had heard throughout my life, stories that had quietly planted assumptions in my mind. But I had never held onto them too tightly, maybe because I had been in a boarding high school that accommodated students from many tribes.

Still, something felt different this time. In the first days of our stay, you could feel the divide without anyone saying it out loud. The language switches. The inside jokes. The silence. The laughter. There is something about a language you don’t understand, when others laugh and you don’t know why. It makes you feel like the laughter is about you. Like you are the outsider in your own space.

When I tried to engage them in conversation and they didn’t seem interested, they would start statements with words like 'my tribe'.

“In my tribe, we don’t eat that type of food”

Or casually throw in stereotypes. Or even the word “tribalism” when something didn’t fit their narrative. And it was easy to take it personally, to let my own assumptions rise in retaliation.

Sometimes it was frustrating, because you know how vulnerable we are in the face of stereotypes. So, just like that, I found myself doing the same. I mirrored their actions. Their tone. Their distance.

And Slowly, it became impossible to see them as anything beyond their tribe and their assumptions. Our tribes stood between us, blocking any chance of seeing each other as human equals. We judged each other based on culture. We held back because of where someone came from.

One of my roommates came from a community where FGM was practiced, it was the stereotype itself that preceded her, and for a moment, it made connection feel impossible, but that didn’t mean she had undergone it, or that she supported it. Yet, the assumption was already there. Another came from a community often labeled as overly traditional or resistant to modern education, as if she would never step outside the roles her culture prescribed. We were seeing each other as tribes, divided by stories, culture, and ideas we had carried since childhood. The diversity of Kenya’s cultures, rich, complex, and full of history—felt reduced to labels and stories we had heard since childhood.

That is the danger of stereotypes. They rob people of dignity. They make it harder to recognise our shared humanity. They emphasize difference, and silence similarity.

Then something shifted.

One of my roommates was studying anthropology—the study of human cultures, societies, and behaviours. Sometimes she struggled with certain concepts, like why some communities practiced particular customs or held certain beliefs, and she would come to us for help. In those small moments of asking and explaining, something opened. We began discussing not just the lessons, but the reasons behind cultural practices, the histories that shaped them, and the diversity of perspectives within communities. It was the first time we started seeing each other beyond assumptions, and slowly, walls began to soften.

That was the beginning.

We started talking, really talking. About people. About culture. About history. About how we think, where we come from, and what shaped us. And in those moments, we began to understand the things that were never said out loud. The things considered taboo. The quiet truths behind our differences.

Slowly, our eyes opened.

There were shared experiences that brought us together. Moments that reminded us of our universality. Moments that required us to step out of what we knew and learn something new.

With time, conversations grew. Laughter became shared. Small acts of kindness began to cross those invisible lines. We started seeing each other beyond where we came from.

Day by day the space changed.

It reminded me that tribalism is often learnt but so is unity.

That when women choose openness over comfort zones, something shifts. Walls soften. Understanding grows. We no longer saw each other as just girls from different tribes. I saw talented, beautiful, ambitious young women each carrying stories of where they come from and dreams of where they are going.

We helped each other overcome.

And this is what I #GiveToGain#

A world where we look beyond tribe and see each other fully. Where shared spaces become places of connection, not division.

Because sometimes, change doesn’t begin in big rooms or loud conversations. Sometimes, it begins in a small cubical room, with four girls, learning to see each other again