Discipline, Kenyan vs Australian Parenting Styles

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You know that moment when your child does something, not even something big, just small, like answering you in a tone you don’t like… and your whole body reacts before your mind catches up?

That’s where it starts.

Because your instinct is not random. It’s how you were raised. Ile way ulifunzwa. You don’t even think about it, it just comes.

Then you remember… uko Australia.

And suddenly you’re adjusting yourself mid-reaction.

Back home, discipline ilikuwa straight. You didn’t debate everything. There were things you just knew not to do. Respect ilikuwa obvious. If your mother called you, you responded. If she corrected you, you listened. Not because you were convinced, but because you understood the line.

And kusema ukweli, most of us turned out okay.

But also… we don’t talk enough about how some of us were just scared. You behave, yes, but sometimes it’s fear doing the work, not understanding.

Now here, watoto wanakuja different.

You say something, they ask “why?” You repeat, they still want explanation. And not in a rude way, just… that’s how they are taught. To question. To understand. To express.

At first it feels disrespectful.

Unajiuliza, this one is testing me ama this is normal?

Because in your head, some things don’t need discussion.

But here, everything is a conversation.

Even discipline.

You’re told to go down to their level, talk it through, validate feelings. “Use gentle parenting.” “Don’t shout.” “Don’t be too strict.”

And you’re trying, honestly you are.

But some days you just want to say, no, this is wrong, stop.

No explanation. Just stop.

And then guilt enters.

Because now you’re thinking, am I doing it wrong? Am I too harsh? Am I bringing “back home” ways that don’t fit here?

But also… are these new ways even working?

Because sometimes you explain and explain, and the behaviour still repeats. So now you’re tired and still not seeing results.

That’s the part people don’t say loudly.

This thing of balancing two parenting styles is not clean.

It’s confusing.

One day you’re soft, patient, explaining everything. The next day you snap and go full Kenyan parent. Then later you sit there feeling bad, replaying the moment in your head.

You’re learning while doing.

And the child is also learning you while you’re still figuring yourself out.

Another thing… watoto huku wako confident.

They speak up. They look you in the eye. They say how they feel. Sometimes even when it’s uncomfortable for you. Back home, that would be seen very differently.

So now you’re asking yourself, do I shut this down or do I allow it?

Because you want them to survive here. To fit into this system. To not feel small.

But you also don’t want to lose that grounding of respect.

So you’re constantly adjusting.

Kidogo Kenyan. Kidogo Australian.

And hakuna mtu anakushow exactly how to do it.

You’re just picking what makes sense to you.

Some days you get it right. The child listens, understands, things flow. Other days everything feels like a struggle. Simple things become long conversations. You feel like you’re negotiating your own authority.

It can be exhausting.

But slowly, something starts forming.

Not the way you were raised exactly.

Not the way things are done here exactly.

Your own version.

You start realising respect doesn’t have to come from fear. But also, softness without boundaries doesn’t work. So you tighten some areas, loosen others.

You learn when to explain and when to stand firm.

You stop trying to be perfect in either system.

You just become… practical.

And maybe that’s the thing.

There’s no perfect Kenyan way here. No perfect Australian way either.

There’s just what works in your house, with your child, in your reality.

And most of the time, you’ll only figure that out after you’ve already made the mistake.

Lakini pole pole, it starts making sense.

Not fully.

But enough to keep going.