When former Nairobi Governor Mike Sonko publicly revealed that his daughter, Saumu Mbuvi, had battled bipolar disorder, his intention may have been to highlight the importance of mental health awareness.
But for Saumu, that disclosure cut deeper than expected, reopening wounds that many silently carry when their pain becomes public property, especially at the hands of their own family.
A father’s revelation
During the burial of the late journalist Kimani Mbugua, Sonko spoke passionately about the need to take mental illness seriously, revealing that his daughter had experienced the same struggles as Kimani and former boxing champion Conjestina Achieng.
My own daughter, Saumu, had the same condition as Kimani Mbugua and Conjestina. I could have taken her to the US, London, or India. But I took her to Mama Amina, and she was treated along with the others, so that they don't think I dumped them there. I thank God my daughter healed.
Saumu Mbuvi with her dad Mike Sonko
While the comment was intended to show compassion and solidarity, it sparked public debate about the boundaries between advocacy and privacy, particularly within families dealing with mental health challenges.
Saumu’s response
In what seemed like a response to her father’s revelation, Saumu shared a personal message on social media, opening up about her struggles with bipolar disorder and setting the record straight on misconceptions about her healing journey.
Lately, so much has been said about me, things that cut deeply, especially because they came from people I love. I’ve been called names, judged, and misunderstood by many who never stopped to ask what I was truly going through.
Saumu clarified that while she has indeed battled bipolar disorder, she was never in rehabilitation for drug addiction a rumour that had circulated online for years.
When stigma begins at home
Saumu’s experience sheds light on a rarely discussed truth, the stigma surrounding mental illness often begins within the home. 
Families, especially in African societies, can unknowingly amplify shame by treating mental health conditions as moral failures rather than medical realities.
Saumu Mbuvi
In many Kenyan households, the idea of seeking psychiatric or psychological help is still viewed with suspicion or shame. 
For some, mental illness is associated with weakness, curses, or poor upbringing beliefs that make it difficult for those affected to open up, even to their loved ones.
The weight of public scrutiny
For Saumu, the challenge is doubled by her public profile. As the daughter of a politician, her life has always been under scrutiny. Every personal struggle becomes a headline, and every misstep becomes fodder for gossip.
It hurts to be shamed for trying to heal. It hurts even more when that shame comes from your own blood. she admitted. But I’ve learned that pain can be sacred; it awakens strength you didn’t know you had.
Beyond sympathy: A call for empathy
Saumu’s post also serves as a call to action urging society to show empathy instead of judgment toward those battling mental illnesses.
To anyone who has ever been mocked for their mental health journey, or judged for needing help: please know, you are not broken. You are human. You are worthy of understanding and love.
Saumu Mbuvi
Her words echo the broader mental health conversation that society has been grappling with in recent years, especially as more public figures open up about their struggles.
However, her situation also highlights how far society still has to go, particularly in recognising that healing requires privacy, patience, and unconditional support.


&format=jpeg)
)
&format=jpeg)
&format=jpeg)
&format=jpeg)
&format=jpeg)