Wounded by the knife: How one cultural ritual shook a family

As the school holidays approach, many Kenyan families are preparing their sons for initiation rites. But what if these cultural milestones trigger hidden fears instead of strength?

One boy’s quiet undoing opens a conversation about childhood trauma, mental health, and what it means to truly grow up.

If you met 16-year-old Sean, a year ago, you would think he was a normal “happy-go-lucky teenager. He looked neat and polite, always wearing clean clothes, a soft smile, and an extended hand of greeting. However, these traits are just appearances – camouflaging an uncomfortable trait buried deep in his soul.

On closer look, you would have found he was twitchy, jumpy, and avoided eye contact. When he spoke, it was with a soft, anxious voice, like he was constantly second-guessing himself.

He often apologised for things no one else noticed. His handwriting was oddly babyish. His behaviour? A cross between an unsure pre-teen and a wounded child.

And yet, Sean had passed his KCPE with good grades. He had no known cognitive delays. So, what happened?

“My son’s turning point was when he went through the traditional rite of passage (circumcision), two years ago when he was 13 years old. He slowly began to unravel,” says Sean’s father.

“It was not just the pain or the ritual itself, rather it was what an event that happened when he was four years-old ‘triggered’, a buried childhood memory that had quietly festered for a decade,” says his mother.

His father says when Sean was four years old, he witnessed an event outside his grandmother’s kitchen in the village. It was slaughter day, and a goat had been dragged in, struggling and bleating. He watched as the men held it down, slit its throat, and laughed through the blood and flailing limbs.

Sean froze. Something in him broke. But no one noticed.

“He stopped eating meat,” his mother recalls. “We thought it was just a phase. We even joked he would be a vegetarian city boy,” she says.

What no one understood then, was that Sean had experienced his first trauma.

That scene stayed locked in his mind for years, unspoken, and untreated. Then came his circumcision years later - the blood, the pain, the physical restraint. No one had prepared him for this rite of passage.

Everyone assumed that he understood, this was a rite all boys went through. The memories of the events of that day, ten years ago, came rushing back.

“In that moment, Sean was not 14 anymore. He was four again, helpless, horrified, and frozen,” says Dr David Ochieng, a clinical psychologist.

Listening to the silence

After months of Sean withdrawing and showing child-like behaviour, the parents finally realised something was wrong, and took him to a therapist.  That is when the pieces fell into place.

“We were shocked when the therapist told us that our son had regressed,” says his father, adding that the doctor explained that “his brain linked the two events and could no longer separate them.”

They learned from the therapist that once Sean connected the goat memory to the circumcision, “it was like he had found a hidden wound,” the parents shared.

“Finally, Sean was relieved to name it. To be taken seriously. To be helped,” says the father.

Dr Ochieng, explains that in many African cultures, rites of passage like circumcision or initiation camps are seen as sacred, transformative rituals, moments that define the shift from childhood to manhood.

“This is the reason August and December holidays are rites of passage seasons of the circumcision traditional practices, even though many parents do not go the traditional way, but instead choose the modern approach of ‘surgery’,” says the expert.

Mental health experts caution, trauma does not only happen in conflict, war zones or violent homes.

“Trauma is any event that overwhelms a child’s capacity to cope,” says psychologist Lisa Wanjiro, a family coach and therapist, adding: “And because children do not always have the vocabulary to express distress, trauma can look like silence, regression, or behaviour changes.”

She explains some children develop trauma from what adults perceive as ‘minor’ moments, such as watching a scary movie, a graphic news report, loud adult arguments, sudden abandonment or changes in routine, jokes or shaming during cultural practices, and forceful rituals they do not fully understand.

“When a child’s environment does not feel safe, even briefly, it can plant seeds of long-term emotional damage,” Dr. Ochieng explains.

The cultural dilemma – honour vs harm

Wanjiro explains that the story of Sean is not an attack on tradition, because rites of passage can be beautiful, bonding, and meaningful. “They teach identity, resilience, and community belonging.

She says the concern is in ‘how’ these rituals are handled in modern times, especially when done without emotional preparation or follow-up care.

“Children today are exposed to a mix of traditional and modern worlds,” says cultural anthropologist Joshua Lemayan.

“We cannot assume they interpret rituals the same way our ancestors did. Context matters. So does readiness.”

Sean’s parents now admit they pushed him through the rite without much discussion. “We just followed what had been done before. We didn’t ask if he was mentally ready,” his father reflects. “We thought he’d toughen up.”

They say their son’s healing is a journey they are still on. “Sean is slowly catching up with his peers, through school support, emotional therapy, and patience.
His story is a reminder to parents that not all trauma bleeds. Some hides in smiles. In academic drops and social withdrawal. In nervous twitches and polite apologies.

Dr Ochieng says, trauma, once named, can be treated. “Children, especially teenagers, can and do recover.

Psychologists recommend trauma-informed parenting that involves: creating safe spaces for children to talk about emotions, respecting children’s expressions of fear or anxiety, introducing cultural rituals with explanation, consent, emotional support, and offering professional counselling when behavioural changes persist.

Sean’s parents are happy that they “napped the setback” early. With therapy, their son is writing again, this time, journaling his own thoughts, awkward handwriting and all, slowly disappearing.

"This time, we are listening with new ears,” says the mother.

How to spot and support a child through hidden trauma

Watch for behavioural regression: If a child suddenly starts acting younger than their age – bedwetting, clinginess, baby talk, it may signal emotional distress or trauma.

Notice avoidance or hyper-awareness: Children who become jumpy, overly alert, or withdrawn after a specific event may be struggling to process it.

Listen without judgment: Allow children to speak freely. Do not downplay their fears with phrases like “you will be fine” or “man up.” Validate their experience first.

Prep and debrief cultural events: If your child is to go through a ritual (circumcision, initiation camp), prepare them mentally and emotionally. Explain everything clearly. Afterward, ask how they felt and follow up.

Seek professional support: If changes such as poor sleep, academic decline, and social withdrawal persist, talk to a child counsellor or psychologist. Early support can prevent long-term damage.

Know that healing happens: Children are incredibly resilient, especially when they feel safe, seen, and supported.