A couple of weeks ago, I was privileged to attend the 2nd African Workshop on Women and HIV. The regional convening brought together local and international health care service providers, government stakeholders, researchers, industry, and community representatives, holding space for them to learn and deepen their knowledge on issues pertaining to HIV and women living in Africa. It also aimed to chart the way forward in supporting changes that improve the quality of life for women living with HIV and reduce HIV transmissions across the continent.
The conversation that stood out for me throughout the workshop was on the role of men and boys as allies in addressing women-specific issues and fostering equitable solutions. The discussion delved into how traditional roles impact HIV prevention, treatment, and care for women. It also explored how imbalanced power dynamics—driven by cultural norms—continue to disenfranchise women, particularly in terms of decision-making and access to healthcare. The call to action at the end of the discussion emphasized the need for collaboration and the creation of opportunities for men and women to work together as allies to advance gender equality and disrupt the status quo that clearly does not serve women.
Then again, while the influential role of men in challenging and dismantling harmful gender and social norms that subjugate women cannot be understated, the engagement of men as allies—particularly in feminist spaces—is, in my opinion, an extremely murky discourse.
You see, whenever conversations arise about the need to engage men in interventions designed to improve the quality of life for women, liberate them, and advance their rights and freedoms, nobody gives a clear-cut explanation of what such engagements ought to look like. This is especially true in spaces women have had to fight for over the years—if, indeed, those are the spaces where the engagements are supposed to take place. Nobody talks about the emotional labor and burden placed on women, who are often expected to educate men on basic gender issues. In all honesty, this can be exhausting, especially if the men in the room are present for optics rather than genuine commitment to gender equality.
Nobody speaks into the nitty-gritty of the measures that can ensure women’s concerns aren’t sacrificed at the altar of whataboutism—something that often happens when women highlight injustices against them. No recommendations are offered on how to maintain that tricky balance between dominance and true allyship, which calls for men to recognize their privilege, truly listen to women, and avoid taking over conversations or invalidating women’s experiences.
As such, while the call for collaboration and male engagement is clear, there are many grey areas when it comes to how men can participate meaningfully without burdening women or derailing the movement.
My skepticism does not, in any way, mean that I dispute the fact that men can be feminists or become good allies. If anything, they are a critical force in dismantling misogynistic beliefs and influencing meaningful changes in policies and structures that uphold women’s rights and freedoms.
Still, we need to explore what allyship looks like outside of the spaces women have created for themselves—because that is where the real work is. In my opinion, it starts with men viewing feminism and contemporary social changes as progressive rather than a threat to their status or identity. It’s the willingness to advocate for women in male-dominated spaces where the harmful narratives have long been nurtured. It’s acknowledging that some feminist spaces are for women only and that respecting those boundaries is also a form of collaboration.
True allyship is intentional and informed—and it amplifies rather than overshadows feminist efforts.