Puberty, Periods, and Parenting

If you’re a parent, what was running through your mind as your child approached adolescence? Actually, let’s flip the question: what’s going through your child’s mind?

As their bodies change, so do their emotions and their sense of self. They wonder if what they’re feeling is “normal”. They notice differences between their bodies and their peers’ and ask, ‘Why don’t I have a beard? Why are my hips slimmer than my friend’s?’ Teenagers crave honest answers, quiet reassurance, and someone who listens without shame, and more often than we’d like to admit, they’re not getting any of that.

I learnt the weight of this conversation over the weekend. I hadn’t seen my friend in a while, and we were catching up on this and that.

“Tell me you’re old without telling me you’re old,” she asked me

I was busy mentally rebuking her when I noticed she wasn’t her usual self. Before I could ask what was going on, she spoke.

“Imagine I found out my daughter started her period, and she didn’t tell me.”

“What! Congratulations!” As her daughter’s godmum, I’d watched this girl grow. We’d planned birthdays together, and I’d always cheered my friend on as a parent. So yes, I was more than excited for this milestone. I immediately started congratulating her, already mentally curating a period basket with affirmation cards, “girly” things, and pad packs of different brands to try.

“We should import some…” I was mid-shopping-spree in my head when she cut me short.

“Wachana naye, she began last year,” my friend told me flatly.

This time, I couldn’t ignore how perturbed she seemed. The fact that the news caught me by surprise meant my friend had felt shocked ten times worse. Part of me regretted not listening to her earlier hint about ordering something stronger. 🤫

“So who did she talk to about it? Does she have everything she needs?” I asked.

My friend replied with a cold, “I don’t know.”

I was stunned. How could she have missed this? Hadn’t she noticed extra pads during shopping?

Then she told me what had actually happened.

“Today, when I was leaving, my daughter said, ‘Mum, please buy me tampons.’ I was shocked ati tampons? Ata sio pads? I had to ask if they were for a school project or a gift. Only for her to say it’s hers. I didn’t know what to say, so I just asked her when she started. She told me, ‘Kitambo, kwani hujui’ and left.”

My friend told me she sat in her car for fifteen minutes in silence, trying to comprehend everything. Then it dawned on her: she’s actually old. She’s now parenting a teenager she doesn’t know how to guide because there’s already a wall between them.

Once she processed it, she texted her daughter: “I’m happy for you.”

Her daughter replied: “Mum, I’ve had my periods for close to a year. Just bring me the tampons.”

I listened quietly with understanding before I said anything. When I did, I told her that her generation is different, but that doesn’t mean the gap can’t be bridged. What matters now is finding an approachable way to have a conversation about puberty, about body changes, about the emotional and psychological shifts that come with growing up. Her daughter needs a guide into the next phase of life, one shaped by love and wisdom.

A mother having a ‘healthy’ conversation with the daughter

The Problem We Can’t Ignore

Parenting never came with a manual, and the society we live in today is vastly different from the one our parents knew.

Think about it. Menarche and puberty once came with structured community enlightenment. Today, that guidance is fragmented. Most young people are tech-savvy and opinionated, living in an influencer era where what they see online is what they believe.

In an economy where work drives our lives, parents spend their hours at the office, battling traffic, or rushing home to cook dinner. By the time you get home, you’re sorting homework, dealing with kids fighting, and finding out the gas is finished 🤭. You literally have zero time to emotionally connect with your children as you would have wished.

My friend’s daughter kept quiet partly because of the product she’d chosen. Tampons still come with judgement. Some people associate them with lost virginity, with “too much” exposure, with a teenager who knows things she shouldn’t. That stigma is enough to make a girl manage her period alone rather than face a conversation she’s not sure she can have safely.

I remember being a teenager, curious and a bit scared of what puberty would be for me. My period product knowledge came from SHOUT magazine, a teen publication my mum bought me from Nakumatt supermarket every month. It had a section where readers shared their stories: embarrassing dates, first-period experiences, and questions no one else would answer. That magazine made me feel less alone and gave me a language for what was happening in my body. Today, the equivalent is a Google or an AI. Helpful, yes, but it’s not the same as feeling seen and heard.

Teens are naturally curious, and that curiosity shouldn’t be ridiculed. If anything, allow them to roam. Be there to guide them when they stray.

Today’s Gap

In many traditional African societies, initiation rites offered exactly this: structured mentorship from elders, peers, and community members who guided young people through physical, social, and moral transitions. Those practices were disrupted or phased out over generations, leaving a gap that no one formally replaced.

We have moved from communal homesteads where your neighbour was your uncle, and it was almost impossible to sleep hungry, into urban centres and adopting contemporary ways of living, ones that involved minding your own business and “hustling”, as we love to call it.

So who fills the mentorship role today, especially in under-resourced communities where vulnerabilities are higher? Parents are often overwhelmed. Schools skip comprehensive puberty education. Peer groups reinforce myths and stigma, and young girls are left to figure it out alone.

Schools’ engagement activities on puberty education and menstrual health

What You Can Do Today: RISE UP

RISE UP is a programme designed to fill exactly this gap. Through their Champions of Dignity pad drive, they’re pairing menstrual hygiene products with puberty education and mentorship.

Parents can’t do this alone; we need community responsibility, and we need each other.

✊If you’re a parent, start the conversation. Your child may already be navigating this alone. Ask them what they know. Listen without judgement.

✊If you’re a community member, volunteer with local projects. Donate pads. Share accurate information. Break the stigma one conversation at a time.

✊If you’re a donor or partner, your support directly reaches girls who would otherwise miss school.

✊Donate to RISE UP’s Champions of Dignity pad drive. Sponsor a school. Fund menstrual hygiene training.

To learn more about RISE UP and how to get involved: visit btsafrica.org/en and see how you can help girls stay in class, stay confident, and stay dignified.

We rise by lifting others. Let’s make sure no girl has to sit in silence for a year while her mother sits in her car, trying to comprehend what she missed.

Let’s build back the community conversation, one period talk, one pad, one parent at a time.