The Global Quiet Crisis

By Mickeydan Kioko

Most of the recent events I've attended, I've seen walls covered with posters celebrating the girls; the young women's leadership and entrepreneurship programs and scholarships for girls. It's fantastic to see. We’ve spent decades rightly fighting to make sure our daughters have every opportunity, and that work is paying off.

But as I continue looking around, a nagging thought can't leave me: Where are the programs for the boys?

It’s a question that can feel awkward to ask, almost like you’re trying to take something away from the girls. But that’s not it at all. I think we’ve just been so focused on fixing one problem that we’ve accidentally created a blind spot. And in that blind spot, a lot of our sons are quietly struggling.

This isn't just a feeling. You can see it if you look.

You know, it's funny how the whole "boychild neglect" thing plays out in dating. So many guys were raised to be the strong, silent type—to provide and fix things, but never to actually talk about their feelings. Then they get into relationships and their partners want emotional connection, real conversations about fears and dreams, and these guys just don't have the tools. They'll try to "solve" problems when their partner just wants to be heard, or they'll shut down completely when things get emotional. It creates this really sad gap where both people end up frustrated she feels like he's emotionally unavailable, and he feels like nothing he does is ever right, like he's failing at some game he never learned the rules to. It's not that these guys don't care; they just never learned how to show it in ways that build real intimacy.

You know, when you really look at social media, it's kind of obvious how it's failing our boys. My nephew spends hours scrolling through these feeds filled with guys flaunting money, muscles, and this cold, emotionless attitude like they're too tough to care about anything. Meanwhile, where are the posts teaching boys how to handle heartbreak, how to be a good friend, or how to just say "I'm struggling"? The internet tells girls it's okay to have feelings and even creates communities to support them, but for boys, it's all about this performance of being invincible. So when a young guy feels lonely or insecure, the algorithm doesn't send him to helpful advice—it just shows him more content telling him to "man up" and hide his pain. It's like we're giving them all the wrong tools for life and then wondering why they can't build healthy relationships.

Think about school. We all know a bright, energetic young boy who just can't seem to sit still in class. He’s not a bad kid; he’s just full of energy. But our schools today, with their focus on standardized tests and quiet desk work, often feel like they’re designed to beat that energy out of him, not channel it.

The numbers back this up. In countries like the US and the UK, girls are now more likely to go to university than boys. Here in Kenya, the picture is more complicated. While we’ve done a great job getting girls into primary school, keeping boys engaged is a real challenge. In places like Kibera and other parts of Nairobi or parts of Eastern and Central Kenya, it’s often the boys who drop out first, lured by the chance to make quick money or just bored and disconnected from what’s being taught.

The point isn't that girls are doing too well—that’s something to celebrate! The point is that the system seems to be working less and less for a lot of boys. They learn differently—they often need to move, to compete, to build with their hands. And we’re not really giving them that chance.

The problems in the classroom are only half the story. The bigger, quieter crisis is an emotional one.

We’ve done an amazing job telling our girls they can be anything—strong, brave, ambitious. We’ve expanded their world. But for boys, the rules seem to have stayed stuck in the past. The message is still, in so many ways, "Kuwa mwanamume." Be a man. Be tough. Don’t cry. Don’t show weakness.

So, what happens to a boy’s fear, his sadness, his confusion? He learns to shove it down. He isn't given the words for his feelings, so those feelings come out as frustration, anger, or just shutting down. You can see the results in the worrying rates of young men turning to alcohol and drugs, or in the heartbreaking fact that men, both here in Kenya and around the world, are far more likely to die by suicide. We’re teaching our boys that it’s better to suffer in silence than to ask for help, and it’s literally killing them.

I get why people get nervous when this topic comes up. For so long, the world was set up to benefit men. The fight for women’s rights has been a tough, necessary battle, and that fight isn’t over. So, when someone says, "What about the boys?" it can sound like we’re trying to go backwards.

But that’s a misunderstanding. This isn’t about taking anything away from girls. It’s about realizing that the old way of raising boys—the stiff-upper-lip, provider-at-all-costs model—wasn’t actually good for them either. It just looked like power from the outside. We critiqued that model but never really replaced it with something better. We’ve told boys what not to be, but haven’t given them a clear, positive idea of what they can be.

The truth is, helping boys isn’t "anti-girl". It’s pro-society. A boy who is supported in school and comfortable with his emotions doesn’t grow up to be a threat. He grows up to be a better friend, a better husband, a better father, and a more stable member of his community. His success makes everyone’s life better.

We don’t need a huge, complicated national plan to start making a difference. We can start in our own homes and communities.

Let Him Feel.The next time a young boy in your life is upset, don’t tell him to "be a man." Try, "It's okay to be sad," or "That must have been scary." Give him permission to have a full range of human emotions.

Always find a way to celebrate different kinds of capabilities. If a boy is great with his hands, or a natural on the sports field, praise that as much as you would a top exam score. We need all kinds of skills to build a country.

Be the Role Model. Men, especially—talk openly about your own struggles. Show the boys in your life that being strong includes being kind, asking for help, and admitting when you’re wrong.

For women in relationships. This can be tough, but try to see his emotional silence not as a wall, but as a door he doesn't know how to open. Encourage small steps. Instead of "You never talk to me!" try, "It seems like something's on your mind. I'm here to listen to you if you ever want to talk." Create a safe space without judgement just like my beloved girlfriend Nimu usually does.

For men; it's never too late to learn. It will feel awkward at first, just like learning a new culture or language. But try. Start small with a trusted friend or partner. Say something like, "I felt really proud when that incident happened to me", or "That movie/incident actually mad me a bit sad". It's just like a muscle that Ned's exercises every now and then.

For parents :Mom and dad's, when your son talks about a problem with a friend, don't just say," Don't worry about it " or start raising your voices at him as a way to teach him a lesson. Instead, ask him how it made him feel. Validate his sadness. Show him that talking about emotions is normal, healthy part of life.

The amazing progress we’ve made for our daughters is one of the best stories of our time. But a real victory for equality means making sure no child is left behind. It’s time to widen the circle. It’s time to check in on our sons, to listen to their quiet struggles, and to let them know that their worth isn’t in their toughness, but in their humanity.

Our girls are soaring. There’s no reason our boys can’t soar right alongside them.