How this Kenyan entrepreneur is helping former prisoners stitch their lives back together

In a workshop on the outskirts of Kenya’s Kitengela town, garment workers are working in rows, seated in front of specialized sewing machines. While one tests fabric quality, another woman hems a garment. In a nearby cutting room, fashion students gathered around a table covered with fabric, discussing where to make their cuts.

In another room, finished garments hang on display, including pieces made from fabric offcuts that would otherwise have ended up in landfill sites.

The workshop belongs to Tuwe Bora, a social enterprise founded by Linda Sigilai. Tuwe Bora, which means “be better” in Swahili, trains and employs women, refugees, and marginalized youth, using garment production as a pathway into work.

Sigilai, a nutritionist by training, had spent six years working in public health before she moved into fashion. Her transition began in 2019, when she started working with women leaving prison.

“Landing in fashion was purely because we were supporting women in prison. And in prison, we found that most prisons have programmes such as sewing, and the skill that most women in prison have is dressmaking. So, we looked at it as an easier route to create a way for them, as they’re coming out of prison, to have a place to land as they’re reintegrating into their community,” she said.

Tuwe Bora started in 2019 as an informal support group where five young mothers met to exchange income-generating skills. Membership eventually grew to 100 before the group became Tuwe Bora Ltd in June 2021.

But as Sigilai worked with women leaving prison, she realised that employment alone was not enough.

“When we started, we were working with women specifically who were in prison and were transitioning. In the process, we realised that we were trying to solve something that has already happened, yet it can be prevented. We realised that social inclusion is the biggest issue,” she said.

The organisation later expanded its work to young people without higher education and refugee communities. It trained young people in machine operation and linked them to jobs in Kenya’s export processing zones, while refugees received skills and employment support.

“We also work with refugee communities because they are a marginalised group both financially and socially, either because of language barriers or difficulty getting papers. Legally being here becomes difficult for them to gain employment, so we create a system for them to get skills and give them employment to prevent them from ending up in the prison system.”

Teresa Njoroge, founder and chief executive officer of Clean Start Africa, said poverty was a major factor behind the incarceration of women.

“The government has substantiated that 70 per cent of women who are incarcerated are incarcerated due to petty survival offences, as they’re trying to fend for themselves, not just for themselves, but also for their children,” she said.

Njoroge knew the challenge personally. She had spent time in prison after being wrongfully convicted following a fraudulent bank transaction she handled as a bank employee.

For women leaving prison, the difficulty often continued after release. Without stable housing, employment or support networks, some returned to the same circumstances that had contributed to their incarceration.

“This revolving door of poverty and incarceration continues to perpetuate because we are not addressing the root cause of their being arrested, which is the lack of a decent, sustainable means of livelihood,” Njoroge said.

A May 2025 study, Examination of the Effects of Imprisonment on Recidivism: A Review of Kisumu County, Kenya, interviewed 700 former convicts, 85 prison officers and 15 probation officers. It found that 82 per cent of former convicts had participated in some form of rehabilitation or treatment programme while incarcerated, while 14 per cent reported having no access to such services.

At Tuwe Bora, some of the women already knew how to sew. The challenge was adapting those skills to the equipment and quality standards demanded by the market.

“We create an upskilling opportunity where we teach them this is what good quality means; this is what a good, finished garment looks like; this is how you thread the machine; and this is how you ensure the color of the thread matches the outfit,” Sigilai said.

Joyce Wanja was one of those women

Wanja, now 60, spent 13 years at Lang’ata Women’s Prison, from 2008 to 2021, after being convicted of robbery with violence. Her original sentence was death, which was later commuted to time served following the declaration that the mandatory death penalty was unconstitutional.

When she arrived at Tuwe Bora after her release, Wanja already knew how to sew. She had learnt in prison, where she had used single-needle manual machines.

“In prison, they were mostly using the single-needle manual machines. The market demands higher quality, so we just had to show her how to thread modern machines, balance speed, and do a clean finish as per international requirements,” Sigilai said.

Wanja spent about two years training at Tuwe Bora before starting her own business in Kitengela. She now makes school bags, laptop bags and custom clothing. She also spent time doing prison ministry, returning to facilities similar to the one she had once left.

“I trained under Ms Sigilai for about two years while regaining my footing, then went on to start my own business. I am back to living and healing with my children, and I can see my grandchildren,” Wanja said.

For Sigilai, Wanja’s transition represents what she has set out to achieve: giving people the skills and support to build livelihoods independently.

“We are holding space for others to be able to exist and do what they’re able to do. That is where my sense of satisfaction comes from,” she said.

Sigilai workes directly with Kajiado Women’s Prison, where she established a textile centre and supplied machines and training. The aim is for women to leave prison with skills they could use to start businesses or find employment without having to relocate to the Tuwe Bora workshop.

The enterprise generates revenue through its upcycled garment line, white-label production for corporate clients, and paid short courses that trains people for employment within four weeks. They also recover textile waste and turn fabric offcuts into new products.

But combining social impact with commercial sustainability remained difficult.

“You have a community that you have to take care of, but you are also a business, and you need to make a profit at the end of the day,” Sigilai said.

Tuwe Bora imports most of its raw materials, making it vulnerable to shipping delays and rising transportation costs. High electricity and labour costs also made it difficult for Kenyan manufacturers to compete with imported garments.

Despite those challenges, Sigilai said the business model allowed Tuwe Bora to continue creating opportunities for people who had struggled to find work.

The enterprise’s ambitions extended beyond its Kitengela workshop. Sigilai said Tuwe Bora plans to expand its textile waste recovery work while continuing to train post-incarcerated women, refugees and vulnerable youth.

For the women who passed through its doors, however, the measure of success was simpler: whether the skills learnt could help them earn a living and build a life after prison.