Baby Laurine’s fight: How Pumwani’s milk bank is saving preterm babies

Baby Laurine entered the world far earlier than expected, weighing just two kilograms and fitting into the palms of her caregivers’ hands. Born at seven months, her first days were a delicate balance between life and loss. For months, her survival depended not on her mother’s milk, but on breast milk donated by other women.

Fed through a thin red tube running into her tiny nose, Laurine gained weight gradually—gram by gram. Today, five months on, she is healthy, and alert.

“When you look closely at baby Laurine, it’s hard to believe she was born so prematurely,” says her mother, Winny Kemunto. “She’s chubby, beautiful, and full of life.”

Kemunto, a mother of three in her mid-thirties, admits her pregnancy journey was far from ideal. She never attended antenatal clinics and ignored warning signs when she began bleeding, believing everything would turn out fine. Instead, her condition deteriorated rapidly. She was fortunate to deliver at Pumwani Maternity Hospital, Kenya’s largest referral maternity facility. Laurine was born with underdeveloped lungs and immediately placed in an incubator. Kemunto, still recovering, could not produce breast milk.

“I felt terrible because I couldn’t breastfeed my own baby,” she recalls. “But for her well-being, I accepted milk donated by other women. I had no milk at all, and that milk saved my child.”

Laurine’s story is one of many unfolding quietly inside Pumwani’s newborn unit, where the hospital’s human milk bank has become a lifeline for preterm and critically ill babies. According to Faith Njeri, a nurse and head of department at the facility, many mothers of preterm infants struggle to produce milk immediately because the hormonal processes that trigger lactation are interrupted by early delivery.

“In such cases, the alternative is often infant formula,” Njeri explains. “But formula is less nutritious and increases the risk of infection, especially where water may be unsafe.”

Pumwani’s breast milk bank is among only a handful in sub-Saharan Africa and one of just three facilities on the continent with an operational human milk bank, alongside South Africa and Mozambique. The concept was first introduced in South Africa, the pioneer of milk banking in Africa.

The World Health Organisation (WHO) recommends exclusive breastfeeding for the first six months of life, describing human milk as complete nutrition packed with antibodies that protect infants from infections and reduce the risk of obesity and diabetes later in life. For preterm babies, the benefits are even more pronounced.

Inside the same unit where Laurine fought for survival, another mother’s story is marked by loss. Lydia Auma was transferred to Pumwani from another hospital because her premature baby required specialised equipment. Her newborn weighed just 1.2 kilograms. Despite medical care, tragedy struck.

Auma recounts how exhaustion overtook her one night. She overslept, missing a scheduled feeding and a session of Kangaroo Mother Care—a WHO-recommended method involving prolonged skin-to-skin contact, exclusive breastfeeding, and close follow-up.

“I fed my baby 34 millilitres later than instructed,” she says softly. “I placed her beside me and went back to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, she was gone.”

Grief compounded by personal hardship, Auma says she had been under immense stress, facing family challenges and harsh treatment from her husband during pregnancy. Yet out of her loss emerged an act of generosity. Unlike many mothers of preterm babies, Auma produced ample breast milk. After counselling, she decided to donate it to help babies whose mothers could not feed them.

“Before donating, they tested me for TB, HIV, and hepatitis,” she explains. “I felt good knowing my milk would help other babies. The first time, I donated 200 millilitres.”

Once donated, the milk undergoes a rigorous safety process. It is taken to the laboratory, screened for bacterial growth, pasteurised, and packed in 50ml containers. Each container is labelled with the donor’s identification and date of donation before being frozen for up to six months.

“The process is very strict,” says Njeri. “We must ensure the milk is completely safe. Babies are given precise amounts depending on their medical needs.”

Established in 2019 with support from British aid, the Pumwani milk bank aims to promote breastfeeding and reduce newborn deaths. Preterm infants face high mortality risks, and studies show that breast milk significantly improves survival and growth compared to formula feeding. WHO emphasises that even small amounts of breast milk make a major difference for preterm infants, whether it comes from the biological mother or a screened donor.

Despite its success, the programme has limitations. Due to strict handling requirements and limited equipment, only babies admitted to Pumwani’s newborn unit currently benefit. Expanding the service beyond the hospital remains challenging.

“Many families live in informal settlements without refrigeration or clean running water,” explains Pumwani CEO Christine Kiteshio. “We cannot safely support milk storage outside the facility at the moment.”

Cultural beliefs also present obstacles. Some communities believe that babies who share breast milk become siblings, raising concerns among families.

“These beliefs lead to hesitation,” Njeri says. “But no mother is forced to accept donated milk. We give families time to consult and provide education about its safety and importance.”

Between five and ten babies receive donated milk at Pumwani every day. The hospital delivers between 70 and 100 babies daily, making it one of the busiest maternity facilities in Africa. Within its walls, the human milk bank quietly transforms surplus into survival. Mothers with more milk than they need are encouraged to donate. In the most painful cases, women who lose their babies are supported to express milk to prevent infection or complications, and, if they choose, to donate it.

In this way, something born of grief is preserved, made safe, and offered to sustain another fragile beginning—just as it did for baby Laurine, whose life stands as living proof of the power of shared motherhood.