“Marriage hubamba mafala.” Three words, and Kenya went into meltdown. Chebet Rono didn’t didn’t expect it to mushroom into one of the most polarizing cultural debates of 2025.
Within hours, the phrase was everywhere: captioning TikTok skits, anchoring Twitter threads, and commentary all around. It wasn’t just a throwaway line. It was a grenade lobbed right into the heart of Kenya’s obsession with marriage.
For decades, marriage has been treated almost like a rite of passage in Kenyan society. To stay unmarried past your late twenties, especially as a woman, has been branded suspicious, even shameful.
And yet here was Chebet, boldly calling it foolish, cracking the perfect meme in the process. The reaction was instant: some laughed, some rebattled and others screamed blasphemy. Celebrities joined in, fueling a debate that revealed far more than just whether Chebet was trolling.
To understand why Chebet’s quip hit such a nerve, you have to appreciate how sacred marriage has been in East Africa. It’s not just about romance.
It’s a marker of adulthood, stability, and legitimacy. Politicians flaunt their wives as badges of respectability. Artists who want to “clean up” their image stage elaborate weddings. Even ordinary Kenyans face endless questions — uko na mtu? — as though singlehood is a disease needing urgent cure.
So when Chebet tossed out hubamba mafala, she wasn’t just mocking an institution. She was poking at the very spine of societal order. The backlash was inevitable.
And then came the celebrity takes, each one pouring petrol on the fire.
On one side were the disruptors — younger entertainers and influencers who nodded along. A few musicians cheekily reposted the phrase with laughing emojis, hinting that they too saw through the façade of marriages collapsing faster than hit singles climb the charts. One rising comedian even quipped: “Marriage? I can’t even commit to a hairstyle for three weeks.”
But the traditionalists weren’t having it. A veteran gospel singer lashed out on Instagram, calling Chebet’s statement “reckless” and a poor influence on young women who, in her words, “need to build homes, not hashtags.”
A well-known TV anchor went further, saying dismissing marriage was equivalent to “erasing African values.”
Even celebrities whose marriages are notoriously rocky felt the need to weigh in. One actor — recently divorced for the third time — argued that despite personal failures, marriage remained “the cornerstone of family.”
The irony wasn’t lost on fans, who roasted him in the comments: “If hubamba mafala had a brand ambassador, it would be you.”
Chebet’s critics miss one crucial point: her jab wasn’t about marriage as companionship, but marriage as performance.
Kenya has perfected the art of the Instagram wedding — million-shilling gowns, drone footage, and hashtags trending for days. But fast-forward a year and the same couple is issuing cryptic statements about “irreconcilable differences.”
Take the celebrity circuit: lavish weddings become events, complete with corporate sponsorships and brand deals.
They aren’t about love so much as optics. The public eats it up — until the inevitable breakup. In that sense, Chebet’s hubamba mafala is less insult, more diagnosis. It’s not that love is foolish. It’s that we’ve reduced marriage to an expensive costume party that ends in debt and disillusionment.
Beyond celebrities, young Kenyans quickly adopted the phrase because it resonates with their reality.
The country’s youth face record unemployment, rising rent, and unstable incomes. Traditional marriage expectations — bride price, elaborate weddings, joint investments — feel like financial suicide.
Add to that shifting gender roles. More women are prioritizing careers, travel, or even solo parenthood.
Men, meanwhile, are increasingly vocal about feeling pressured to provide in an economy that doesn’t reward them. For many, marriage looks less like a partnership and more like a trap.
So when Chebet jokes that marriage is for fools, it’s comic relief — but also bitter truth. The laughter masks real anxieties about whether the institution makes sense anymore.
Of course, it would be dishonest to pretend the whole country is ready to toss marriage out the window.
Plenty of Kenyans still see it as a source of joy, stability, and cultural continuity. For many, it provides not just companionship but also a framework for raising children and securing family legacies.
And while divorce rates are rising, there are also countless stories of marriages that work — quietly, away from the limelight. Couples who build together, weather hardships, and remain deeply in love.
For them, Chebet’s phrase feels dismissive, even insulting. Not all marriages are circuses, they argue. And they’re right.
So here’s the truth: marriage itself isn’t foolish. What’s foolish is entering it for the wrong reasons. Rushing in because your parents are pressuring you. Staging a wedding because Instagram needs new content. Staying in a toxic union because “divorce is shameful.” That is what makes fools of people — not the act of choosing to love and commit.
Chebet’s provocation works because it slices straight to this hypocrisy. By calling out the foolishness, she forces society to ask: why are we doing this? If it’s love, respect, and shared purpose — then marriage is far from foolish. If it’s performance, fear, or clout — then yes, it’s hubamba mafala.
What’s fascinating is that Chebet’s phrase is part of a broader generational rebellion. Across Africa, young people are reimagining old institutions: questioning the worth of formal religion, doubting politicians, and scrutinizing marriage.
They are less interested in doing things “because that’s how it’s always been” and more focused on personal happiness, autonomy, and authenticity.
This doesn’t mean the end of marriage. It means the end of blind marriage. And perhaps that’s exactly the evolution society needs.
Chebet may not have intended to ignite a cultural war, but marriage hubamba mafala has become a rallying cry for a generation tired of empty rituals.
It has also become a mirror, reflecting the contradictions of a society that worships marriage even as its own leaders, celebrities, and neighbours fail to uphold its promises.
If the phrase offended you, maybe that’s because it hit too close to home. If it amused you, maybe it gave words to a truth you were already living. Either way, it’s a reminder that institutions only matter when they serve real human needs, not appearances.