Loice Mwende: Woman who sold her eggs to save son

“I was willing to do anything for my child. If selling my eggs would help him see, then I was ready to do it,” Loice Mwende begins

When she walked into a fertility clinic in Nairobi, she was carrying far more than the weight of a difficult decision. She was carrying the hopes of a young mother desperately trying to save her son’s eyesight.

At just 23, Loice was not thinking about the ethical questions surrounding egg donation or the potential health risks experts often warn about. Her focus was fixed on one thing: raising enough money to pay for her son’s urgent eye surgery.

Her seven-month-old son, Kariuki, had been diagnosed with cerebral palsy and partial blindness. Doctors recommended an operation costing Sh250,000, a figure that felt impossibly out of reach for a young mother already struggling to pay for therapy, rent and food.

Faced with mounting medical bills and dwindling options, Loice turned to egg donation.

She recalls that in 2017, while still at university, a friend had introduced her to the idea. At the time, however, she dismissed it. Many of her friends viewed egg donation as a quick way to make money for luxuries and lifestyle expenses, and she had no interest in it.

Now, circumstances were different.

“This time, I was doing it to save my child,” she says.

Loice did not consult anyone before making the decision. Her mind was consumed by one goal: finding the money needed to restore her son’s vision.

When she visited the clinic, she learned that not everyone is qualified to become a donor.

She underwent a series of assessments, including hormonal and blood tests. Weighing 48 kilograms, she met the clinic’s requirements, and doctors eventually confirmed that she was eligible.

She was handed a consent booklet explaining the procedure that she says contained a lot of pages. However, overwhelmed by the situation and eager to proceed, she barely read it.

“I signed the forms without going through everything,” she recalls.

Soon afterwards, the process began. For two weeks, she received hormone injections designed to stimulate her ovaries to produce multiple eggs.

“When the day of retrieval arrived, the procedure was quicker than I expected. It wasn’t painful at all. It took less than an hour.”

Apart from mild cramping that disappeared after a few days, she experienced no immediate complications.

In return, she received Sh50,000.

The payment, she says, was made before the procedure took place. 

For Loice, it was desperately needed money. Yet it was nowhere near enough to cover the surgery.

Believing she could continue donating until she raised the full amount, she returned to the clinic hoping to undergo a second cycle. A former university friend had reportedly donated more than five times, sometimes on a monthly basis.

Instead, she received devastating news.

“They told me I didn’t have enough eggs and that I might struggle to have children in future. That hit me hard. I thought I would never have another child.”

Today, Loice says she experiences hormonal imbalances and frequent mood swings. Although she cannot say with certainty whether they are linked to the donation process, she often wonders about its long-term effects.

Her story reflects a growing trend in Kenya, where increasing numbers of young women are turning to egg donation as a source of income. While some are motivated by financial opportunity, others, like Loice, see it as a desperate means of survival.

For her, egg donation was merely one chapter in a much longer struggle that began shortly after her son’s birth.

Different journey

When Kariuki was born nearly five years ago, Loice anticipated the usual joys and challenges of motherhood.

Instead, she found herself navigating disability, poverty, depression and stigma.

Shortly after birth, Kariuki suffered complications and experienced seizures. He remained in the hospital for two weeks.

When he was eventually discharged, Loice says no one explained the possible long-term consequences.

“No one told us that our baby had a serious condition. Nobody prepared us.”

As a first-time mother, she relied on reassurance from relatives and friends whenever she voiced concerns about her son’s development.

“Every month, I would ask whether something was wrong. People kept telling me not to worry.”

But as the months passed, the differences became increasingly apparent. Other children were sitting, crawling and exploring their surroundings. Kariuki was doing none of those things.

One doctor informed the family that their son had high muscle tone. Later, a specialist delivered the diagnosis that would change their lives forever.

“He looked at me and said, ‘Your child has cerebral palsy.’ My heart broke. I had never heard of cerebral palsy before. I went online to search for it, and what I found terrified me.” 

The diagnosis plunged her into deep depression. She struggled with denial and found herself wishing she could simply disappear.

The emotional burden became so overwhelming that she developed suicidal thoughts and was eventually admitted to a mental health facility, where she spent seven months undergoing treatment and counselling.

A conversation with doctors there proved life-changing.

“They told me, ‘Your child’s recovery starts with you. You must first accept the condition.’ Those words changed my life.”

Acceptance, however, did not solve the family’s financial challenges. Therapy costs continued to rise, rent arrears accumulated, and food became scarce.

Suicide mission

One day, Loice and her husband left home after making a heartbreaking decision. They planned to end their lives.

As they walked towards the place where they intended to carry out the act, a stranger approached them. The man happened to be a content creator conducting social experiments.

After listening to their story, he handed them Sh10,000. “He simply told us, ‘Whatever you are thinking of doing, don’t do it.’”

The couple turned around and went back home. For a family that had sometimes gone to bed hungry, the money offered immediate relief. They bought food, paid some debts and found enough hope to keep going.

Three days later, their story reached thousands of people online. Support began pouring in from well-wishers across Kenya and beyond.

“We were able to clear rent arrears and restart therapy. For the first time in months, we felt hope.”

Today, every aspect of Loice’s life revolves around Kariuki. Now four years old and turning five in December, he requires constant care.

He undergoes physiotherapy, occupational therapy, hydrotherapy, speech therapy and phototherapy. He also underwent eye surgery in 2022 and continues receiving treatment to improve his vision.

“We thank God that our son can see now, although not clearly. We are still using eye patches as part of his therapy.”

Because Kariuki cannot walk independently, Loice carries him wherever he needs to go. And since he struggles to communicate verbally, she has learned to interpret his every movement and expression.

“I have to understand whether he wants food, water, comfort or something else. I have to understand everything without him speaking.”

The financial demands remain overwhelming. Specialised foods, therapy sessions, transport costs and medical equipment continue to stretch the family’s resources beyond their limits.

“There are foods he is supposed to eat, but sometimes we simply cannot afford them. He has to eat what the rest of us eat.”

The family frequently travels between hospitals to access therapy services.

“One appointment may be in Kiambu and another in Gatundu. Every trip costs money.” 

This year, financial constraints have forced Kariuki to miss several therapy sessions.

While many mothers of children with disabilities face abandonment, Loice considers herself fortunate. Throughout the challenges, her husband has remained by her side.

“Many men leave when they learn their child has a disability. Some blame the mother. My husband never did. He told me, ‘This is our child, and we will raise him together.’”

The couple first met during a set-book acting project years ago. Today, that partnership remains one of her greatest sources of strength.

“He has never blamed me. He loves his son deeply and always believes that one day, his child will improve.” 

Beyond the financial and medical challenges, Loice has also battled social stigma.

She says people blamed her son’s condition on everything from family planning to curses and even accusations about her personal life. Others suggested she was somehow responsible for what had happened. Yet she refused to let those comments define her.

Progress

Through social media, she began sharing her family’s journey, attracting both support and criticism.

Some daycare centres, she says, have even refused to admit children with disabilities.

“They tell you they do not accept special-needs children. As a parent, that hurts because you want people to see your child the way you do.”

Despite the hardships, Kariuki has made significant progress. His posture has improved, his legs are stronger, and some of the supportive devices he once relied on are no longer necessary. His vision has also improved considerably.

“The progress is slow, but it is there. Every small improvement makes the sacrifices worth it.”

Today, Loice measures success differently. Having survived depression, stigma, poverty and moments of profound despair, she now shares a message of hope with other parents raising children with disabilities.

Looking at her son today, she sees more than a diagnosis. She sees resilience. She sees purpose. Most importantly, she sees a reason to keep fighting.

“The journey is hard. There are days you cry. There are days when you feel exhausted. But when I look at my son, I know I cannot give up.”