At a time when girl-centric teen and young adult dramas are increasingly popping up on local stations and YouTube, Tukisonga wasn’t initially on my radar. I wasn’t its target audience, and I dreaded yet another series where lessons on sexuality felt more like a lecture than storytelling. Yet, after finishing the first season, I can confidently say I was pleasantly surprised.
The series is directed by Vincent Mbaya (Pepeta) and Likarion Wainaina (Subterranea), with majority of the episodes directed by newcomer Natasha Ayoo.
Tukisonga navigates the often-awkward terrain of youth sexuality with refreshing honesty and a keen understanding of the chaos of late adolescence. While the show starts with a slightly over-eager and occasionally gimmicky style, this fades as it finds its stride. The initial awkwardness of a young bride rescinding sexual and marital proposals from her long-term boyfriend—while entangled in her village’s echo chamber—mirrors the very subject matter it explores. Over the course of twelve episodes, each marked by its own “tuki” identity, the protagonist, and her cousin, balance the show’s highs and introspective lows. Their contrasting personalities anchor the narrative as they navigate personal and sexual identities.
Though still very much an educational piece of entertainment, Tukisonga’s greatest strength is its restraint. It allows its young characters to experience the full rollercoaster of exploring their sexual realities while also pursuing their ambitions, without imposing rigid resolutions. Even in the few moments where a clinic visit or a condom PSA lingers longer than expected, it rarely encroaches on the story. Instead, Tukisonga tackles complex issues by illustrating their nuances rather than serving advertisements for their solutions.
What makes Tukisonga compelling is the natural rapport among its ensemble. The young cast, mostly unknown but incredibly talented, brings an authentic energy to the show. Vanessa Okeyo (Second Family) as Robi, Brenda Gesare (Single Kiasi) as Alma, and Faith Akinyi as Achie lead a supporting cast that includes Samson Omondi (Half Open Window), Kennedy Kithia (Flight 1963), Tobit Tom (Mo-Faya), Wanjiru Waweru, Faith Njuguna, and Adan Abdi. These actors feel like real adolescents on the cusp of adulthood – smart yet awkward, impulsive yet introspective.
Unlike many such dramas that either overprotect or hypersexualize their young characters, Tukisonga strikes a delicate balance. Its characters are shielded by strong parental figures, sincere friendships, and personal ambitions yet they also grapple with heavy topics with a blend of youthful naiveté and surprising insight, avoiding the trap of sounding like “adults in teenage bodies.” The show’s commitment to neither shy away from cultural stereotypes nor indulge in complete sexual freedom for its young adults gives it an authenticity that elevates what could otherwise feel like a rehashed plot.
There’s a genuine empathy for the characters, and Tukisonga refuses to objectify or patronize them. It avoids tired tropes of sexual conquest and bad decisions without consequence, focusing instead on the messy realities of relationships and the emotional landscape surrounding sex. It’s not just about the physical act but also about communication, understanding, and the often-uncomfortable situations that come with it. However, while its exploration of sexual maturity is strong, some character arcs outside of this theme feel underdeveloped.
Robi’s short-lived acting career, for instance, is swiftly cut short by the harsh realities of the industry before her skills are fully explored. And although the emotional toll it takes on her is apparent, in the end, her true motivations remain a mystery. Alma, despite enduring a whirlwind of entanglements and emotional whiplash, ultimately ends up right where she started. Meanwhile, Achie, the third piece of the puzzle, is denied a sexual goalpost —and with it, the drama that fuels the others—until late in the story. As a result, she drifts aimlessly between the central characters, tied to a basketball subplot that feels oddly out of place.
Overall, Tukisonga manages to be both heartfelt and sensitive. It tackles difficult topics with a responsible, sex-positive approach while embracing the messy, unscripted realities of young adult life—the lessons often left out of traditional curricula. Though it sometimes reaches for bigger, more ambitious swings than its short runtime can fully handle, it never loses sight of what matters most: the relationships, the banter, and the quiet moments that make these characters feel real.
All 12 episodes of Tukisonga are now available on YouTube.
