A while back, Maendeleo ya Wanaume movement dominated news spaces for quite some time. During that time, Nyeri women were on the rampage, allegedly, teaching their wayward husbands lessons that include being scalded by hot water, and other times knives.
Then the movement seemed to have died a natural death. Its vibrancy waned up to appoint of oblivion. But we never asked ourselves why. The women’s movement seems vibrant, even though it may not be in the news as much as before.
Men suffer in silence, without saying a word even to their friends. They may drink in bars and boast about how the boss their wives around, yet when he leaves the bar he spends the night in the dog’s kennel. It takes something catastrophic for a man to come out, and cry for help. In the meantime, they endure their wives ‘squeezing their balls.’
Women, on the other hand, will not hesitate to raise their voices when they are hurt. They are not afraid to be vulnerable. After all, it was until recently that they got to have a say in a male-dominated society. Injustices that have been meted on them since time immemorial are an issue of the past. They can raise their voices, louder and louder every day, without being afraid of being judged or coming out as weak.
Women may not support each other on some issues but they do agree on many, chief among them is their rights. The Maendeleo ya Wanaume movement did not last mainly because it did not receive support from other men. They dismissed the plights of those suffering under the wives noses, as a sign of weakness.
Recently, there was an argument we had about the issue of women rights. We’ve indeed come from far, to the extent of including a third gender rule in the constitution. Women now are being handed positions on a silver platter. It seemed, quite arguably, that women would love to be vulnerable for a long time so that they can enjoy these privileges.
On the other hand, men ‘man up’ all the time, because society expects them to be strong. Not until their strengths snap and they plunge to their deaths, like men, from the seventeenth-floor corner office.