'Useless Men; Half-Men': Male Gbv Survivors Face Online Ridicule Despite Calls To Speak Out
In a cruel twist that exposes the hypocrisy of our society, Kenyan men who courageously speak out about gender-based violence they've suffered are being met with ridicule, mockery and emasculating insults on social media platforms.
Recent cases across the country show male survivors facing a barrage of derogatory comments when they share their experiences of domestic violence, sexual assault or emotional abuse. From WhatsApp groups to Facebook comment sections, these men are being called "useless," "half-men," and worse by fellow Kenyans who question their masculinity for admitting vulnerability. The very platforms that should offer support are becoming spaces of additional trauma.
The irony cuts deep. For years, women's rights activists, government officials, and civil society organizations have urged men to break their silence about violence they experience. Public awareness campaigns have emphasized that gender-based violence affects everyone, regardless of gender. Yet when men finally find the courage to speak up, they're met with the same toxic masculinity that silenced them in the first place.
This double standard reflects deeply rooted cultural beliefs that still dominate conversations in our matatus, at the local kiosk, and even in our homes. Many Kenyans still subscribe to the harmful notion that "real men" cannot be victims – that admitting abuse somehow diminishes their manhood. These attitudes are as common in Nairobi's estates as they are in rural counties, cutting across class and education lines.
The consequences are devastating for male survivors who already struggle with shame and isolation. Mental health experts warn that online ridicule drives these men deeper into silence, making them less likely to seek help or report crimes. This creates a dangerous cycle where perpetrators – both male and female – continue their abuse unchecked because victims feel too humiliated to speak out.
The digital age has amplified this problem, with screenshots of men's testimonies being shared mockingly across social platforms faster than an M-Pesa transaction. What should be treated as serious criminal matters instead become entertainment for keyboard warriors who hide behind anonymous profiles to shame vulnerable people.
As we push for a more inclusive conversation about gender-based violence, we must confront our own biases and the language we use when male survivors share their stories. How can we expect men to report abuse when our first instinct is to question their strength rather than condemn their abusers?