Uganda has lost a star, but the world has lost much more. Rebecca Cheptegei, the Olympian marathoner whose incredible endurance put her on the global map, was laid to rest in her hometown of Bukwo, Uganda. A military salute, athletes in mourning, and endless tributes filled the air as a grim reminder that sometimes being a woman, a successful one at that, can come with a death sentence.
Rebecca was not just a talented athlete; she was a soldier—a literal fighter. Yet, her killer? An ex-boyfriend, armed with nothing but fuel and rage. Her death was not just a personal tragedy; it was a full-blown societal indictment. Kipchumba Murkomen, Kenya’s Sports Minister, minced no words when he said, “We are guilty as a government, but the community is guilty too.” That’s right—the community. The people who saw this unravel and did nothing until it was too late.
In what world do we celebrate the lives of female athletes only to bury them weeks later because their so-called “lovers” couldn’t handle their success? The running shoes, the national pride, the medals—none of it could save Rebecca from a brutal end at the hands of a man who felt entitled to her life and death. When Cheptegei was competing in the Paris Olympics, finishing 44th in the marathon, did anyone foresee that she was running against more than just time?
The tragic irony is that Rebecca’s coffin, draped in the Ugandan flag, was carried with military honors, while just two weeks earlier, she was burned alive by someone who couldn’t stand to see her shine. Rebecca’s mother, Agnes, could barely hold back her tears as she clutched a souvenir bag from the Paris Olympics. On her t-shirt? The bitter words: “Being a woman should not be a death sentence.” And yet, in Kenya and Uganda, it increasingly feels like it is.
The death of female athletes like Rebecca isn’t a one-off occurrence. In fact, she’s the third female athlete in three years to be murdered in Kenya by a lover. Former world record holder Agnes Tirop was stabbed in 2021, and Damaris Mutua was strangled just six months later. It’s almost as if becoming an elite female athlete in East Africa now comes with a curse—win medals, get international acclaim, and sooner or later, a man in your life might decide it’s time for you to exit, stage left.
The narrative of these women’s deaths exposes an uncomfortable truth: female independence, especially financial independence, is seen as a threat. Joan Chelimo, a fellow athlete and advocate for gender-based violence awareness, remarked that female athletes “don’t follow the traditional gender norms where a woman is just in the kitchen, cooking and taking care of children.” But is that a crime worth killing for? Are we so threatened by a woman’s success that we would rather snuff out her light than watch her shine?
Uganda may have given Rebecca Cheptegei a hero’s burial, but let’s not forget the villains in this story. This isn’t just about one man’s act of violence; it’s about a society that let it happen, a society that couldn’t protect its own daughter, soldier, and champion.
GIPHY App Key not set. Please check settings