This workshop is helping Kenyan women reclaim their bodies, one conversation at a time

In a small, softly lit room in the heart of Nairobi, women are gathered in a circle; laughing, crying, listening. Some are here to learn about menstrual health. Others are here to talk, perhaps for the first time, about what it means to live in a body that’s often politicized, sexualized, and silenced. Together, they are part of a growing movement challenging deep-seated taboos in Kenyan society: the Vagina Worldshop.

At first glance, the name may raise eyebrows. But what’s unfolding beneath it is far more profound than provocation. In a culture where many aspects of female experience - from menstruation to pleasure to trauma - are hidden behind euphemism or silence, the Worldshop offers something rare; open conversation, safety, and sisterhood.

“It was the first time I said the word ‘vagina’ out loud in a public space,” says Angela, a 23-year-old university student who attended one of the workshops. “And I didn’t feel ashamed. I felt heard. That doesn’t happen often, especially for girls growing up here.”

Founded by Esther, a Nairobi-based creative and community organizer, the Worldshop was born out of personal frustration with societal norms that often restrict women’s self-expression.

“So much of how we express femininity is met with policing or projection,” she says. “I wanted to create a space where women could define that on their own terms, where we could just be, without fear.”

From curated wellness workshops to bold storytelling circles and art-inspired events like ‘Tit for Tat,’ a women-led DJ night reclaiming nightlife as a safe space, the initiative stands out not just for its content but for its atmosphere.

It is educational without being clinical, radical without being alienating and most importantly, it is fun.

But this is more than just a trend. It’s part of a deeper cultural reckoning in Kenya, especially among young women. The days of whispering about periods or shaming bodies into silence are, slowly, giving way to a new era of openness - one rooted in bodily autonomy, informed choice, and community support.

“For a long time, I felt like my body wasn’t mine. Like it was always being judged, sexualized, or controlled,” says Faith, 27.

“At the Worldshop, I learned to map my body, understand it, and talk about it without fear. That’s a kind of freedom I didn’t know I needed.”

While the name might suggest a single event, the Vagina Worldshop functions more like a sanctuary; a space to gather, reflect, and recover. In a country where gender-based violence remains a pressing issue, such spaces are more than helpful; they’re essential.

“We talk a lot about fighting back,” Esther says. “But what happens after the fight? Where do women go to exhale, to celebrate, to reconnect with ourselves and each other? That’s the gap I wanted to fill.”

This sentiment resonates deeply with attendees, many of whom describe the Worldshop as a place of personal healing and collective transformation.

“After my assault, I didn’t know how to talk about my body again,” says Wambui, 30. “But sitting in that room, hearing other women speak their truths, something inside me softened. I stopped blaming myself. I started to heal.”

The impact isn’t limited to those who attend in person. Through digital content, educational series, and community partnerships, the ripple effects of the Worldshop are reaching far beyond Nairobi.

Young women, particularly the Gen Zs, are rejecting inherited shame and exploring their identities with more confidence and complexity than ever before.

“You can see the shift,” Esther says. “In fashion, in online conversations, in how women show up in public spaces, there's more audacity, more joy, and less apologizing. It’s powerful to witness.”

But the work isn’t without pushback. In a conservative society, public conversations about the female body still spark discomfort and criticism. Yet, that’s precisely the point.

“We need to feel discomfort before we grow,” says Angela. “And for too long, that discomfort was ours alone to carry. Now, we’re asking others to carry it too, to listen, to learn, to let us speak.”

Ultimately, the Worldshop is not about branding or controversy. It’s about transformation of minds, bodies, relationships, and the cultural landscape itself. It reminds us that freedom doesn’t always come in the form of protest signs or policy reform.

Sometimes, it looks like a circle of women, speaking boldly, laughing loudly, and reclaiming space in the quietest and loudest ways possible.

“When women feel safe, we thrive,” Esther says. “And when we thrive, we raise whole communities with us.”