‘You’re not a real man’: The words that break more than bones
Dr Anthony Ajayi, a sexual and reproductive health and rights research scientist at the African Population and Health Research Centre, encourages men to seek health services and confide in trusted individuals when facing difficulties.
What you need to know:
- Dr Anthony Ajayi exposes how silence, stigma, and societal expectations are driving a hidden mental health crisis in men.
- Men are taught to suppress pain, but the emotional toll of unspoken struggles is destroying lives in silence.
Dr Anthony Ajayi speaks candidly about the emotional toll of being a man in today’s world, where silence is mistaken for strength. In this revealing interview, he explains how societal pressure, stigma, and a lack of safe spaces are quietly eroding men’s mental health and what must change. This is Men's Mental Health Awareness Month. And on Sunday last week, the world celebrated Father's Day, a day marked to honour fathers, fatherhood, paternal bonds, and the influence fathers have in society.
You’ve studied positive masculinity. What would you say are the biggest challenges men face when it comes to mental health?
The major issue is that men are socialised to believe that seeking help is a weakness. When a man says he's struggling, society tells him to “man up”. There’s stigma, silence, and often ignorance. In many communities, mental illness is linked to witchcraft or bad omens, not something that can be treated medically. So what happens? Men bottle it up. They struggle alone, many of them triggered by the inability to meet societal expectations of what a man should be: a provider, a protector. When they fail at these roles often because of economic hardship, they internalise that failure. And it takes a huge mental toll.
So even when we speak of positive masculinity today, many men are still stuck in traditional roles?
Absolutely. We’ve made some progress, but a lot of men still believe being a man means not showing weakness. Even when we encourage them to open up, they’re ridiculed for doing so. They are mocked by friends, misunderstood by family. And even among friends, men don’t open up. They’ll talk about football, Arsenal, politics but not about their struggles. They don’t want to look weak, even to their fellow men.
What happens when men feel like they can’t provide or protect?
It deeply affects their self-worth. They’re told they’re useless or weak. Society doesn’t spare them. These words “you’re not a real man” hurt. They internalise them, and that can lead to depression, alcoholism, or even suicidal thoughts. And, unfortunately, they rarely talk to anyone, not even their partners.
Is there anything in the health system that works for men seeking mental health support?
Many public health systems are not set up to be friendly to men, especially when it comes to mental health. First, the cost is prohibitive. A single therapy session can cost anywhere from Sh2,000 to Sh5,000. If I’m a low-income earner or don’t have a steady job, that’s not affordable. Second, many men don’t even know where to go or whether that help exists. There’s a major awareness gap. And even when they go, they fear being stigmatised for seeking help.
I once interviewed someone who suggested male-only clinics. Do you think that’s a workable solution?
Yes, it could work, especially if they are designed to be safe, stigma-free spaces where men can seek any kind of help without judgment. But again, the issue of cost and awareness must be addressed. Clinics are only helpful if they’re accessible and men know they can trust them. But, maybe, the solution doesn't have to start with the clinic. We can begin at the community level. Churches, mosques, men’s groups, if we can train men in those spaces to offer basic support or even just a listening ear, that could go a long way. These men can act as first responders, so to speak, and refer those with more severe needs.
That’s a powerful idea. And prevention is often cheaper than treatment
Exactly. If men can talk early enough, they might not develop severe symptoms. And let’s be clear, this isn’t only a poor man’s problem. I’ve seen professional footballers, physically fit, rich men, struggle with depression. They seem like the ideal man: money, body, fame, but they suffer too. Trauma is real for everyone.
What’s your closing remark to men?
Learn to share. Talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be a professional at first; just someone you trust. Start with a friend, your father, or a mentor. A problem shared is a problem half-solved. We all need help, and those who get ahead in life are those who ask for it. If the first person you talk to doesn’t have the solution, they may point you to someone who does. Also, partners should try to be safe spaces for men, if possible. Relationships where men feel they can share openly are healthier for both people. But I know that’s not always easy. Still, we need to stop expecting men to carry the weight of the world alone.