When the pandemic hit in 2020, a few months into lockdown, I and my colleagues at a design office were laid off. Projects we had meticulously shelved suddenly had no one to polish, no clients to serve, and no recourse for protesting the termination. With the steady rhythm of work gone, I had to find ways to survive. I learned crocheting and baked bread for my neighbours. I discovered that I could do more than architecture; that my skills, creativity, and resilience could be applied anywhere. And I had a family to think about.

Fast forward to today: I juggle babysitting for neighbours, designing and selling clothes, crocheting, baking, and writing – all while navigating an office where my contributions are routinely overlooked. Projects I handled are discussed over by male colleagues; my boss often redirects credit or asks others to verify work I have already completed. The environment is draining, but it has reinforced a lesson I’ve been learning since the pandemic: when formal systems fail, women find ways to survive, create, and thrive.

I am not alone. My high school friend, Chepkoech, decided to venture into farming, and today she runs a farm tech company that links farmers with buyers for their produce. Another friend in Real Estate faced a similar journey: after suddenly losing her job as Estate Manager at a beach hotel, she leveraged her experience in construction, hospitality, and property management to build a new path. Today, she runs several Airbnb’s while working as a property agent – a testament to how Kenyan women pivot and survive when traditional employment fails them.

Across Kenya, women are at the forefront of tech-preneurship: virtual assistants, lifestyle influencers, vloggers, podcasters, freelancers, and even platforms like OnlyFans are tools for women to circumvent rigid systems and build economic independence. Reports rank Kenya as Africa’s second-largest supplier of online labour, with over a million Kenyans working on various online platforms. These hustles are more than just income streams; they are lifelines and acts of resistance against structures that undervalue women’s labour.

The Kenyan freelance landscape is vibrant but uneven. Many women face digital barriers, low pay, platform exploitation, and safety concerns. Despite this, women innovate. From selling handmade goods to running digital businesses, from care-giving services to content creation, Kenyan women leverage every opportunity to carve space for themselves; proving that ingenuity is not limited to formal employment.

Each hustle I’ve undertaken, each side project, is a testament to a broader reality: women will build, create, and work, even when systems fail us. Our labor – whether in tech, domestic services, crafts, or the creative economy – contributes to both families and communities in ways that traditional employment rarely acknowledges.

These efforts deserve recognition and protection. Freelance work should come with fair compensation, mentorship opportunities, and safeguards against exploitation. Society must acknowledge that women’s labor is not supplemental; it is essential, diverse, and innovative.

When the system fails, Kenyan women do not. We bake, craft, babysit, design, code, write, teach, and sell. We juggle multiple roles with skill and resilience. We create value where formal structures fall short. And through every hustle, we assert that our labor, ingenuity, and contribution cannot be ignored.