Beyond teal ribbons: Why ending sexual violence requires talking to men

But here’s a quieter truth tucked beneath the noise: We rarely, almost never, talk to the men.

“I can’t count the number of school workshops I’ve facilitated where the message is all about ‘how girls should behave,’” says Leah Wanja, a wellness mentor and women’s advocate. “Meanwhile, the boys are told to ‘respect girls’ in passing, as if that alone will shift behavior. It won’t.”

In her mentorship circles, Leah says the conversation around sexual violence isn’t a scheduled topic, it’s an undercurrent. “It’s a wound we carry in silence,” she reflects. “A shadow that creeps into our conversations even when we’re talking about joy. Women speak in codes; ‘I don’t feel safe,’ ‘I always share my location,’ ‘I avoid certain places after dark.’ These aren’t just words; they are survival strategies,”

When the conversation about sexual assault centers around women, it unintentionally reinforces a harmful narrative: that preventing assault is a woman’s job. That if something happens, she wasn’t careful enough. The onus of danger and prevention falls squarely on her shoulders.

But what if we shifted the lens?

What if we asked: What kind of masculinity are we raising boys into?

“It starts with recognizing that sexual violence is not a ‘women’s issue,’ it’s a cultural issue,” says Kioko Maundu, a psychologist and researcher on masculinity and gender norms.  “By excluding men from the conversation, we leave a vacuum; one that is often filled with misinformation, peer pressure, or silence.”

The truth is, many men grow up in environments where emotional suppression is glorified. Where vulnerability is weakness. Where dominance is celebrated. And where consent, real, enthusiastic consent is rarely taught or modeled.

“We don’t teach boys how to recognize boundaries, or even their own feelings,” adds Kioko. “So it is no surprise that many enter adulthood confused about what respect and accountability look like in intimate settings.”

That confusion, left unaddressed, becomes dangerous.

There’s another layer to the silence: male survivors of sexual violence often feel invisible. Ashamed. Alone.

“I didn’t even realize I had been assaulted until years later,” says Brian, 29, who requested partial anonymity. “There was no language for it. No space. As a guy, you are expected to just move on.”

This cultural blind spot not only perpetuates harm; it delays healing. “We have to create more room for men to speak, to process, to unlearn,” Leah emphasizes. “Not just as potential perpetrators, but as potential survivors, too.”

Legal and advocacy organizations like FIDA Kenya have long fought for systemic change, but cultural bias remains stubborn. Women are still expected to be the careful ones; the cautious, the modest, the vigilant.

Meanwhile, men are largely left out of the prevention narrative. Not enough is said about their role, not just as potential perpetrators, but as brothers, fathers, mentors, peers. Their accountability is assumed, not taught.

Leah explains the psychological toll this double standard takes: “It’s exhausting. It’s like being told to build armor from your own skin. It makes us hyperaware, anxious, and at times, ashamed for things we didn’t choose. We internalize fear as wisdom, and silence as safety.”

While women have long turned to wellness spaces for healing, reflection, and empowerment, Leah notes that many of these spaces still overlook men.

“Wellness spaces have often centered healing for women and while that is vital, we must also make room for men to confront their own wounds, to unlearn harmful norms, to find language for accountability,” she says. “We don’t need more ‘strong men’ we need more whole men.”

Mentorship, too, must evolve. “Mentorship for men should include emotional intelligence, consent, and vulnerability,” Leah adds. “It’s not enough to tell boys to be protectors. We must teach them to be safe spaces themselves,”

Organizations like Usikimye and FIDA Kenya are already advocating for survivor support, legal justice, and education. But as long as prevention efforts center only on women’s behavior, we miss the bigger picture.

Dennis Otieno, Senior Legal Counsel at FIDA-Kenya, agrees that society has long placed the responsibility of preventing sexual assault squarely on women.

“This role stems from societal beliefs that are pegged on previously entrenched patriarchal approaches and thought processes,” he explains. Otieno is clear that shifting the conversation to include men is not just necessary, it is strategic.

“Men can be included through systemized conversations that target uprooting societal norms and views of women. Secondly, having men champion the fight against any form of SGBV will initiate a change in mindset and work toward a prevention approach, rather than a reactive one,” he added.

FIDA has also encountered male survivors and actively supports them; legally and emotionally.

“Aside from legal aid, FIDA has assisted male survivors through referrals to like-minded partners and through intervention with duty bearers to ensure survivors got the much-needed support.”

When asked if Kenya’s legal landscape needs change, Otieno is blunt:

“There is no need for legal or policy change. The laws are adequately in place. What we need is responsive duty bearers; empathetic, emotionally intelligent police officers and prosecutors.” 

He doesn’t mince words about the damage done by insensitive systems.

“Duty bearers have cost many survivors their path to justice. They’ve shamed, blamed, and hindered any remaining strength survivors had to navigate the corridors of justice,”

His message to men and boys? Simple, yet powerful:

“Let’s treasure and take care of our women. They deserve to be treated with dignity, respect, and love. Let’s protect our women by being responsible with who we are and by upholding their dignity.”

Lifestyle culture is shifting. Slowly, more men are embracing therapy, feminist values, and emotional intelligence. But we need to go deeper.

This month and beyond there is a growing call to bring men into the room, not just as bystanders but as builders of a safer cultre.