Soundless journeys: How Kenyans with hearing loss fight to be heard

Joseph Etyang, who is deaf, and an organizer of the African Media Sign Language Interpreter Conference at West Wood Hotel.  ( Jenipher Wachie, Standard)

Elvis Odhiambo still remembers the bell in his hand. At just seven years old, it was his job to announce class time at his nursery school in Kisumu. The ringing bell was his favourite sound, his way of signaling the world.

Then one night, everything changed. A sharp pain pierced his ear. Days later, silence fell. He was hospitalised for three months, but doctors couldn’t give a clear diagnosis. When Elvis was finally discharged, he had lost his hearing and his mother, who died during his stay in hospital. It was a double blow that would shape his life forever. “I didn’t know what would happen to me,” he says. “I had no motivation to do anything.”

Hearing loss affects millions globally—and in many cases, silently. According to the 2022 Kenya Demographic and Health Survey (KDHS), 15 per cent of people aged five and above, about 7.5 million, experience difficulty with at least one function: seeing, hearing, communication, cognition, walking, or self-care.

In Kenya, an estimated 10 per cent of the population lives with hearing impairment. Yet diagnosis, treatment, and even basic awareness remain out of reach for many. Most people are unaware of the early signs, allowing the condition to worsen until it becomes disabling. 

For Elvis, life changed overnight. “There was a lot of pus coming from my ears,” he recalls. Doctors suspected mumps, but it was never confirmed. No further treatment followed.

“I’ve accepted that I’ll be deaf until I die,” he says calmly. He transferred to Nyangoma School for the Deaf in Siaya in 1990. It was a lonely beginning. “I was very young, and the other students were much older. I even thought of running away.”

But two people kept him going, a compassionate principal and an older student who mentored him. Elvis soon found comfort in sports, especially football and basketball. The games boosted his confidence and gave him a sense of belonging.

Later, he worked as a matatu conductor on Nairobi’s Kayole route. “People thought I was crazy,” he says, recalling the harassment and misunderstanding he faced. “But with time, they got used to me. Today, Elvis is a presenter at Science TV, hosting shows like ‘Sport City’ and ‘Sign Out Loud’, a sign language comedy series. He and his deaf wife have three hearing children, all fluent in sign language. “I feel fully accepted in my community now,” he says.

Elvis credits mobile innovation for improving lives. “I use the assistALL app for real-time virtual sign language interpretation,” he says.

His story is one of resilience, but also a reflection of the systemic gaps that make life difficult for deaf Kenyans. Elvis’s success is inspiring, but far from common.

Faith Wekesa first noticed signs of hearing loss in her early 30s. Now in her 40s, she recalls the discomfort she felt in her Pentecostal Church due to high-volume music. When she asked for the sound to be turned down, people accused her of backsliding spiritually.“ I stopped going to church,” she says. “I realised I couldn’t keep up with conversations.”

Faith’s condition affected her social and work life. At the office, colleagues called her a snob for failing to respond to greetings, when she hadn’t even heard them. The turning point came during a high-level meeting where she was expected to compile a report but missed most of the discussion.

She sought help at a private Ear, Nose and Throat (ENT) clinic. The audiologist grew impatient, assuming she wasn’t cooperating. A colleague eventually stepped in and retested her. The result? “You are deaf,” the doctor told her bluntly. A second opinion in Eldoret confirmed it. Her only option was hearing aids.

The diagnosis took an emotional toll. Faith, already introverted, withdrew further. Her career also took a hit. She stopped applying for jobs. Hearing loss even contributed to the collapse of her marriage. 

Today, she uses hearing aids that cost Sh140,000 and require battery packs worth Sh750. Even then, they’re not always reliable. “They sometimes lose signal mid-conversation. There should be cheaper and better options, and insurance should cover them.” Her family has been a key pillar. “They’ve really stood by me. But I keep my social circle small. I don’t want to keep explaining myself.”

Her advice is simple: seek help early. “The longer you wait, the worse it gets. The Ministry of Health should run national awareness campaigns. So many people don’t know they’re struggling with hearing loss.”

Dr Peter Ochungo, an ENT specialist, says hearing loss has many causes, many of them preventable: exposure to loud noise, chronic infections, untreated ear injuries, birth defects, toxic medication, and prenatal infections like rubella.

His colleague, clinician Joseph Kioko, lists common conditions such as otitis media with effusion, eardrum perforation, ossicular bone destruction and cholesteatoma—many treatable if caught early.

Prof Ruth Nduati, a paediatrician, warns that any period of hearing loss in children can severely impact speech, cognitive development, learning and safety. “The most common cause in children is middle ear infection. It’s treatable. 

Hearing loss is generally classified into three types: conductive (outer/middle ear problems), sensorineural (nerve damage), and mixed. “When the auditory nerve or cochlea is damaged, hearing loss becomes permanent—but that’s rare and often preventable,” says Kioko.

Tests range from simple tuning forks to advanced audiometry and brainstem response tests. Warning signs include delayed speech, poor school performance, excessive loudness and social withdrawal. Prof Nduati warns, “Deaf children often appear alert, so the condition is missed. If a child doesn’t respond to sound or delays speech, screen them immediately.”

Treatment options include hearing aids, bone-anchored aids, cochlear implants, and surgery. “We offer cochlear implants at Moi Teaching and Referral Hospital (MTRH) and with international support,” says Kioko, “but many families still can’t afford them.” He adds: “Basic steps like avoiding loud noise, timely treatment of infections, and regular screening can prevent most cases.”

Yet Kenya lacks a national auditory screening programme for infants and schoolchildren, leaving many undiagnosed for years.