Gender relations in modern day Africa.

How Online Masculinity Politics Are Shaping Gender Relations in Africa

(Names with asterisks have been changed due to privacy)

“It is one of those topics that we agreed never to discuss,” *Wanjiku tells New Lines. A 25-year old from Umoja, a suburb just out of Nairobi’s city center, Wanjiku is worried about her younger brother *Mark, a 22-year old university student who has become obsessed with “red-pill” and masculinity content, constantly lecturing about how women should be loyal and submissive to men. As the primary financial supporter of the household, Wanjiku finds his views both ironic and troubling.

The term red-pill is used by an online movement that encourages men to reject societal expectations and embrace a more rigid form of masculinity, often at odds with gender equality. Popularized by figures like Andrew Tate, it mixes self-help advice with misogynistic beliefs, portraying women as manipulative and men as victims of modern society’s progressive shifts.

*Dennis, a 21 year old student at the University of Nairobi is one of the many young men who is drawn to this movement. “Modern women have a lot of expectations,” he tells New Lines, noting that some of the girls he’s dated expect him to spend as much as KSh 10,000 on a single date - a hefty amount for a student. He admires local red-pill influencer Amerix for his emphasis on discipline, fitness, and self-reliance. But Dennis also expresses fear around dating. “Men need to be very careful these days. I personally have been considering getting insurance whenever I get with a girl, in case I get accused of rape,” he says, referring to a practice of keeping records of messages and calls to prove consent. For him and many like him, financial readiness before starting relationships is crucial: “Men should absolutely get money before getting married.”, he adds.

A wave of social media influencers has gained popularity using this rhetoric. In Africa, where rapid urbanization and communication technology collides with long-persistent challenges like poverty and inequality, their message is finding fertile ground. Meanwhile, women’s visibility in the workforce, leadership, feminist movements is challenging long standing patriarchal norms. These cultural shifts are playing out in diverse spaces, from university halls to working class homes like Wanjikus’.

Kenya’s version of these social media influencers, namely, Andrew Kibe and Eric ‘Amerix’ Amunga have adapted Western red-pill ideologies to local contexts, blending them with homegrown issues. In addition, they have skillfully transitioned from focusing on male-female issues to addressing broader grievances like corruption and joblessness. By framing political and economic hardship as part of a system that also disempowers men, they have created a narrative that strongly resonates with young Kenyan men who feel excluded from economic opportunities, but also urges them to focus on making money as a path to reclaiming power and respect.

These frustrations surfaced during the youth-led protests against proposed tax laws, culminating in the storming of the Kenyan Parliament in June 2024.

In Migrants and Masculinity in High-Rise Nairobi: Under Pressure in an African Capital, social scientist Mario Schmidt examines how unemployment and economic precarity feed the appeal of masculinist ideologies among Kenyan men. He focuses on rural-to-urban migrant men navigating tough economic conditions in Nairobi. “Losing their status as the breadwinner frequently led to scathing criticism and, at times, outright mockery and derision” Schmidt writes. “Being deemed ‘useless’ by their friends, girlfriends, wives, and rural kin intensified their feelings of inadequacy and expendability.”

These frustrations echo across Africa. Economic reforms like Structural Adjustment Programs (SAPs), introduced to address external debt and economic stagnation, left a lasting imprint. By mandating cuts to public spending in critical sectors like education and healthcare, SAPs weakened public sector employment and left a legacy of infrastructural deficits. These systemic failures created fertile ground for discontent, fueling the rise of ideologies that exploit economic anxieties and shifting gender dynamics.

In Western contexts, a similar pattern has emerged. In Financial Crisis Management and Democracy, Professor Paula Sandrin notes that policies like privatization and austerity have caused economic hardship. At the same time, concerns over national security and cultural identity, fueled by immigration, have driven the rise of the populist right. Figures like Andrew Tate have capitalized on this discontent, offering masculine and individualistic narratives that provide a sense of purpose and belonging. Tate’s rhetoric combines critiques of economic systems with cultural issues, including opposition to feminism, frustration with modern dating dynamics, and a defense of “traditional” masculinity thus appealing to people with similar worries.

The same frustrations fueling Tate’s rise in the West; economic exclusion, stagnant wages, and a perceived loss of male status are driving his appeal in Kenya and beyond. In Africa, however, anti-feminist backlash carries a distinct charge: gender equality campaigns are often dismissed as Western impositions, clashing with local norms. For young men already sidelined by unemployment and inflation, red-pill rhetoric offers both an explanation and a rebellion.

While gender-forward policies mark critical progress, they are also challenging long-held ideas of masculine hierarchy and, in some cases, causing unintended consequences in fields like education.

A study by Eva Joan Auma Aura at the University of Nairobi found that government and NGO policies - such as scholarships, bursaries and conversion of boys’ schools into mixed institutions to accommodate girls - disproportionately favoured female students. This led to declining enrollment, rising drop out rates and simmering tension in schools.

In Mbita District, boys’ enrollment plummeted in some schools, like Mbita High, where numbers fell from 250 to 185 in five years. Teachers reported declining motivation among male students, with some asking, “Why should I put any effort when at the end of the day our: school will be defeated by a girls' school?”.

Meanwhile, mixed schools saw emerging behavioural issues. Some girls, emboldened by gender-focused policies, sometimes flaunted their advantage - one slapped a boy,declaring that affirmative action protected her. Broader socio-economic pressures, including poverty and the impact of HIV/AIDS, further fueled dropout rates among boys, who left school to fish or take up informal labor.

The study warns that well-intentioned policies risk creating a new imbalance.Without adjustments, Kenya’s education system could end up sidelining boys and derailing progress towards equity.

These shifting gender roles are not just abstract ideas. They are changing intimate decisions and relationships across the country.

In an interview with New Lines, Dr. Grace Wamue-Ngare, a gender lecturer at Kenyatta university, explains that the erosion of traditional roles contributes to the tensions between men and women in contemporary society. "In traditional African communities, gender roles were clearly defined and complementary", she explains. "Men would go out and provide resources, while women took care of the family. This structure created a sense of balance and mutual reliance."

“Courtship was also slower and methodical”, she says, adding that modern culture’s emphasis on individualism has disrupted that dynamic. "Today, couples even keep track of which partner bought which household item, which undermines the sense of partnership," She believes the lack of complementarity between men and women fuels many of the frustrations that masculinity influencers exploit.

Her observations offer a macro-level understanding of shifting gender dynamics that are reflected in deeply personal choices. *Mercy, a 36-year-old woman from Nakuru, Kenya, has built a lucrative career as a money lender. Unlike many women in her community, she is unmarried and has no children.“I have always known that I did not want children. That resolve has only gotten stronger over time”. Mercy says that her financial independence has allowed her to live life on her own terms. “I had a man who offered to buy me a car and a house in exchange for a child and I would be a stay at home mum”. As marriage declines, cohabitation and transactional arrangements are on the rise.. She says that her income has allowed her to live the way she does and not feel beholden to men.

“But I was able to say no, much to the disdain of my siblings and friends”. “If I was not making what I am making, I would have definitely taken him up on the offer.”

A report from the Kenya Demographic and Household Survey highlights that ownership of assets can provide protection in case of marital dissolution or abandonment,improve their standing at home, and reduce their vulnerability to violence or discrimination.

Mercy’s profession also gives her a unique window into male financial behaviour. Her observations echo Mario Schmidt’s research on the pressure men feel to uphold provider roles. She’s seen many men go to great lengths to hide their borrowing from their spouses—opting for logbook loans that don’t require spousal consent, unlike most loan types that do..

While femicide and gender-based violence have sparked waves of protest across Kenya, not every woman experiences these threats in the same way.

When I asked Mercy if she considers femicide a real danger in her life, she expressed general support for the campaigns against gender-based violence but added that she personally takes precautions to avoid unsafe situations. Her response suggested caution rather than fear.

Perhaps her views are shaped by her own sense of safety and social standing; her position and financial independence may afford her a level of protection that makes the threat feel more distant, unlike women in lower-income communities who often face greater vulnerability to gender-based violence.

Her independence has come at a cost. She ended a two-year relationship because her partner wanted children, and she did not. “I’ve had to break up with a boyfriend of two years because he wanted children and I didn’t ,” she said. Women like Mercy face intense scrutiny from red-pill ideologues, who portray independent women as threats to the family unit

This resistance to women’s autonomy is evident even beyond Kenya. Professor Amanda Gouws, a renowned gender scholar, highlights an enduring backlash against women’s rights in South Africa. “Many men who call in to radio shows here say that women have too many rights,” she said in an interview with New Lines, situating this sentiment within the broader global anti-gender movement that has been seen in debates over reproductive rights, including the overturning of Roe v. Wade in the United States. Gender-based violence against women in South Africa is excessive, with the country having the highest femicide rates in the world, according to a report by the South African Medical Research Council. She acknowledges that rape cases hardly go to court in South Africa and that a lot of organizations that tackle women’s issues are underfunded .

“Shelters for abused women are severely underfunded and, in many cases, are forced to close down.”, she adds. A government-commissioned report had proposed a subsidy framework to keep these safe houses running as international aid declined. The recommendations were never implemented and years later, the crisis remains largely ignored.

Part of the problem, researchers say, lies in deeply rooted ideas about masculinity. “South Africa is uniquely violent”, Dr Lindy Heinecken tells New Lines. She is a lecturer at Stellenbosch University.In her co-authored study with Karen Graaf titled Masculinities and gender-based violence in South Africa: A study of a masculinities-focused intervention programme, they researchers contend that militarization to suppress resistance during apartheid may have played a role in the “normalization” of violence and the belief that resolving conflict through violence is an acceptable and even expected expression of masculinity. In former President Jacob Zuma, the legacy of militarization is starkly evident. During his 2006 rape trial, Zuma and his supporters repeatedly chanted”awuleth umshini wami” or "Bring me my machine gun!”, a phrase he had long associated with his struggle-era persona. This slogan, originally a symbol of armed resistance, took on a chilling undertone in the context of a sexual violence case - a signal of defiance and intimidation. To his rural base, Zuma represented an unapologetic traditional masculinity - a “warrior” unjustly accused by a politically motivated system. ”A lot of men in rural areas look up to him”, Professor Amanda notes.

Critics called it a threat, reframing a rape trial as political warfare. The message to Zuma’s supporters was unmistakable: his masculinity – and by extension, their own – was under attack.

The assault on women’s autonomy doesn’t end in courtrooms or on the streets—it has also moved online. In South Africa, the digital space has become a new frontline in the war over gender and power, with female journalists often bearing the brunt of coordinated, gendered abuse.

A study by the International Center for Journalists (ICFJ) on Daily Maverick reporters—Ferial Haffajee, Pauli van Wyk, and Rebecca Davis—exposed a coordinated campaign of gendered disinformation, racist hate speech, and threats of extreme sexual violence. The report analyzed over 270,000 social media posts, showing how political figures and partisan media incite digital violence. Van Wyk, for instance, received threats of rape, execution, and being “necklaced,” incited in part by Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF) leader Julius Malema and his supporters The study noted that when the journalists limited their engagement or reduced their online activity, the intensity of attacks decreased, showing how digital misogyny functions as a form os silencing.

Elsewhere on the continent, women politicians also face orchestrated online abuse. When Rwandan businesswoman Diane Rwigara announced her intention to run in the 2017 presidential election against incumbent Paul Kagame, doctored nude photos of her were circulated online. Though she denied their authenticity, the damage was done. Her candidacy was eventually rejected, and she was arrested on what she described as trumped-up charges.

While digital platforms have become new battlegrounds, real-world violence remains a constant and often fatal threat. Across Africa, women are being killed by those closest to them: partners, brothers, and husbands.

In many homes, danger lurks behind closed doors.In Nigeria, the brutality can be staggering. One recent case involved a teenage girl raped by a slightly older boy who bashed her head in. “It happens all the time,” says Adeleke Uzmat Iyunade, co-founder of SirenCo, a feminist organization supporting survivors of gender-based violence.

“Violence against women cuts across all economic or social lines”. Uzmat adds, highlighting the story of Natasha Akpoti, a Nigerian Senator who was suspended from Senate chambers after she reported that she was being sexually harassed by Senate President Godswill Akpabio.

Uzmat notes that Nigeria’s deeply conservative and superstitious culture has normalized the abuse of women, sometimes to fatal ends. “Wives are set on fire over meals or talking back at their husbands”, she adds. “Even when women come forward, they’re asked,”Why would you want to ruin this man’s life?”.She adds that women are very vulnerable: marital rape is not criminalized, and laws still allow husbands to “discipline” their wives, meaning physical violence is allowed.

“There is a lot of entitlement to women’s labour and time, we cannot even organize a women’s-only event without getting opposed”, she adds.

Yet feminist movements persist. SirenCo offers therapy, legal referrals, emergency aid and public education. “Sometimes it's just getting someone menstrual supplies, paying school fees, or helping them identify red-pill rhetoric online,” Uzmat explains. The organization also petitions lawmakers, organizes women-only events, and builds coalitions to push for reforms.

“We encourage women to come to us to get help, but a lot of women are afraid to do so”,she says.

Similar movements like Namibia’s #ShutItAllDown, Ghana’s #JusticeForAma, South Africa’s #AmINext have mobilized thousands across the continent. These grassroots efforts often outpace state responses, especially in regions where victims lack access to formal justice systems.

Meanwhile, the media’s role remains fraught. Women report cases ranging from catcalling and groping to having their photos stripped and shared using AI deepfake tools. “Men form communities online to humiliate women”, Uzmat says. A 2023 DW Akademie report on online violence in East Africa echoes this: journalists often sensationalized stories about online violence against women, misplaced them in entertainment sections, or republished explicit images of survivors. The study calls for media training, legal reform, and stronger standards of reporting.

But while red-pill ideology spreads across Africa, grassroots movements are quietly working to redefine masculinity in healthier, more inclusive ways, focusing on care, emotional openness, and shared responsibility.

“Africa is still steeped in patriarchy. Traditional and religious institutions keep reinforcing toxic ideas about what makes a man,” Bafana Khumalo tells New Lines. He serves as co-executive director of Sonke Gender Justice, a South African gender rights organization.

He believes that African culture itself has been distorted; some traditions have been twisted to fit a version of masculinity that celebrates dominance and emotional detachment. “In African folk tales, ubuntu—humaneness and interdependence—was a key theme,” he says. “But now, we’re seeing a version of manhood that’s all about control, not care.”

Sonke is part of the MenEngage Alliance, which operates in 22 African countries. The initiative involves men and boys in reshaping traditional gender roles—encouraging equitable sharing of care work and household tasks, promoting nonviolent conflict resolution, and challenging harmful beliefs around consent and masculinity. “We push back against the idea that caregiving is just for women,” Khumalo says. “And in the wake of changing economic realities, we need to revisit the pressure placed on men to be sole providers for a family.”

For some men, life experiences sparks a shift in perspective. *Fred, a 27-year-old entrepreneur in Nairobi, once relied on red-pill content to cope with unemployment. While he still holds certain views - he claims that women are not suited for banking - his interest declined after starting a family and managing a computer repair business. He found that figures like Amerix provided a useful framework, but as his responsibilities grew he had to change his focus. “Some of the things they say are right”, he adds.”But I had to balance work and family”.

Across the African diaspora, scholars are also interrogating how colonial legacies continue to shape ideas of gender and power. Dr. Fatimata Wunpini Mohammed, a decolonial feminist and journalism professor who grew up in Tamale, Ghana, argues that independence didn’t erase colonial logic. “We still see it in the dominance of Christianity, capitalism, and in how gender roles are enforced,” she explains. Her work focuses on how religious and media narratives reinforce these patterns, often leaving women vulnerable to both cultural and institutional violence.

Mohammed points to regulatory gaps in African tech infrastructure that leave women especially exposed to harm. In Ghana, for instance, women using rideshare apps were once targeted by stalkers due to missing features like number masking—protections that are standard in Western countries. “These systems weren’t built with African women in mind,” she says.

In South Africa, Professor Amanda Gouws raises concerns about the country’s retreat from earlier gender equality commitments. The dismantling of dedicated offices like the Women’s National Coalition, she says, has left a vacuum filled by a less effective Ministry for Women, Youth, and People with Disabilities. Gouws emphasizes that long-term change must include men and boys and create pathways for young people to lead.

Still, Mohammed sees promise in the next generation of feminists. “There’s a gradual shift happening. More people are seeing that feminism isn’t foreign—it’s a necessary tool for survival and justice.”

Present-day gender relations in Africa are a watershed moment. While hard-won gains have granted women agency and autonomy, long-standing views about dominance are fighting back with renewed energy. Across living rooms, online spaces and office corridors,the ways in which men and women interact are being challenged, renegotiated and at times, completely redefined.

While various groups have emerged to try to help men make sense of their shifting roles and identities, these efforts unfold against a backdrop of uncertain economic times, where traditional measures of masculinity, like being a provider, are increasingly hard to fulfil.

But as Uzmat points out,“Women face the same tough economic conditions as men”, she says, “plus the constant threat of violence”.

"There is definitely a gender war," Wanjiku says, noting how nearly half of her male colleagues constantly interact with masculinity content online.

The path forward calls for reckoning. It will require courage from both men and women to question what they have been taught, to listen without defensiveness. The choices made now; by policymakers, educators and communities will determine whether the continent moves deeper into division or toward a future where power is shared.