The Problem With "Not All Men"
On learning to hear what women are actually saying
I think it’s safe to assume that you’ve read Princewill’s essay because it’s gained a lot of traction over the past week. If you have, that’s good; now, I recommend you read Chinaemerem’s essays on modern feminism and the Ozoro tragedy. If you haven’t read Princewill’s essay, please do, and read the other essays, too. I’m sharing them because I think it’s important for you to know what inspired this piece. You should also check out the conversation Chinaemerem and I had a few days ago.
Over the past few weeks and months, there’s been news of sexual harassment, sexual assault and rape, murder, and—just last week—the shameful, disturbing, and undeniably tragic Ozoro festival. You’ve seen the news, the tweets, and the videos. A lot of the victims have been—yup, you guessed it—women. And the perpetrators? Right again: men.
These incidents have sparked a lot of rightful and justified outrage from a lot of people, feminists especially, because it’s clear that, although the Western world has made significant strides in protecting and preserving women’s rights, our Nigerian society, cultures, and traditions are still so far behind. And so, as you would expect, statements like “women are not angry enough” or “men are vile, evil creatures” or “not all men, but always a man” have permeated almost every corner of the internet.
But they’re not being received the right way.
A lot of men see the aforementioned comments as an attack on their person, a bruise to their ego, defamation of character, and hatred on a collective level. Therefore, they respond in comment sections, videos, and essays that it’s “not all men”.
It’ll be hypocritical of me to throw shade at the men who do this because I did it, too. Every single time I saw a comment, essay title, or opinion that encapsulated men—not “bad men”, “weak men”, or “depraved men”, just “men”—I also felt attacked and got defensive.
But here’s something women have been saying repeatedly, but we, the men, are too stubborn to hear: it’s not about us, it never has been!
Let’s digress a little, shall we?
Back in 2023, one of my best friends went through a really nasty breakup—like, very bad. I remember how destabilising and debilitating it was for her at that time, and how we had many conversations as she was processing her feelings.
Occasionally, she’d say things like “men are scum”, or “men will stain your white”, or “Kevwe, this your gender….”, but I never told her—at least I don’t remember telling her—that it’s “not all men”. I mean, she was talking to me, a man. So, clearly, she wasn’t referring to all men who walk the earth; she was speaking out of the pain and frustration she was experiencing. What she needed in that moment was not a correction or a defensive response from me, but a listening ear, a gentle heart, and soft, encouraging speech.
Here’s another digression—there’s a point to this, trust me.
I went through a nasty breakup the following year (this one wrecked me so much that it’s a reference point for a lot of internal growth I’ve experienced), and I remember telling a friend of mine while I was in the thick of pain that “men will stain your white, but women will poison your food”.
It’s a crazy statement, but I knew it wasn’t true for all women. I mean, a lot of my best friends are women I admire and deeply respect, so I know for a fact that not all women fit that category. I was just speaking out of the deep hurt of a bleeding heart.
Are you seeing it now? Good, let’s keep moving.
When a woman says “men are oppressing women”, the response cannot be and should not be “not all men” because she’s not talking about all men; she’s just airing out her frustration, anger, and pain.
As Chinaemerem rightfully explained in her essay, the argument of “not all men” shifts the focus from the root of the problem to its fruit—it tries to curb or control the anger without addressing the reason it exists. It attempts to bring logic and universal experience to a statement that is clearly coming from a place of pain, frustration, and a very real, lived personal experience. It’s asking for empathy without giving it, and for nuance without attempting understanding. And this slows things down because everyone moves from arguing good, evil, and the protection of human rights—women’s rights—to arguing “not all men”.
What is needed in these moments is not defence or correction, but a listening ear and an empathetic heart. And you can only bring these things into the conversation when you can look beyond yourself and see the pain of the person on the other side. This requires putting aside your ego, resisting the knee-jerk urge to defend your honour, and humbling yourself so you can learn and truly understand.
John Gray, in his book “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus”, mentioned that outbursts of anger or comments made out of anger—coming from either men or women—should never be taken at face value because the real problem is much deeper—it’s essentially the iceberg theory. Therefore, what’s required to really get to the root is engaging in respectful dialogue. This involves asking genuine questions, active listening, and putting your bruised ego aside to hear what the offended party has to say.
This is what we, the men, need to do whenever we’re faced with the valid, justified, and necessary anger from feminists and women in general: stop, listen, and address the real problem. If we can’t set our egos aside to engage in meaningful, constructive, truth-seeking, then we will never make any progress, and the anger will only intensify.





Oh my God Rukevwe, like I said before and I will say it again, you have a beautiful mind.
I really hope and pray the world doesn’t diminish your light.
As much as I really agree with this,
I just feel some people really think all men act that way. and that mindset is also an issue.