Online Reporter
Nick Mangwana
Government Up Close
THIS week, I would like to shift our focus away from Government policy and share a personal reflection.
As a father of boys who has had the privilege of raising them into young men, I take great pride and responsibility in the individuals they’ve become. It’s a weighty question to ponder: Have I contributed to shaping them into good, well-rounded men who can positively impact the world?
Lately, I’ve sensed a concerning trend — an unintentional effort to undermine the development of young boys into capable men. It’s crucial we strike a balance, lest we inadvertently create a generation of men who lack the strength, empathy, and leadership qualities that define true masculinity. I’d like to explore this topic further, and I invite you to join me in this conversation.
Yesterday, the world observed International Men’s Day. A day ostensibly dedicated to honouring the contributions, sacrifices, and well-being of men and boys.
Yet, in the quiet aftermath of this annual nod, one must ask: what exactly are we celebrating? In an era where the very essence of masculinity is often framed as a problem to be solved, a toxicity to be purged, we find the boychild standing at a confusing crossroads.
He is told to be softer, more in touch with his femininity, while simultaneously being shamed for the inherent traits that have, for millennia, built civilizations, provided protection, and forged paths forward. It is time to state, unequivocally, that there is nothing wrong with being a man.
The project should not be to dismantle masculinity, but to refine it; to call men not to apology, but to purpose.
The pressure on the modern boy to be “in touch with his femininity” is well-intentioned but often misguided in its execution. The goal, we are told, is to create a more empathetic, emotionally intelligent generation.
No reasonable person would argue against these virtues. Empathy, kindness, and emotional literacy are human traits, not the exclusive domain of either sex.
However, the framing of this project is critical. When it is presented not as the cultivation of universal human skills, but as the suppression of masculine energy in favour of the feminine, we risk pathologising the boy’s natural state.
A boy should never be made to feel that his competitive spirit, his desire for physical activity, his stoicism in the face of minor pain, or his inclination to fix problems rather than simply talk about them are inherent flaws.
These are not toxic traits; they are the raw materials of masculinity. The problem arises not from these instincts themselves, but from their lack of channelling and mentorship.
A river without banks is a flood; a river properly directed is a source of power and sustenance. We are teaching boys to be ashamed of the river, instead of teaching them how to build the banks.
This leads to the second, more pernicious, consequence: the idea that a boychild should apologize for being male. From a young age, he is bombarded with narratives of historical patriarchal wrongs, often presented in a way that implies collective, inherited guilt.
He learns that the ambitions and assertiveness that once defined great men are now suspect. He is taught to temper his drive, to downplay his strength, and to see his own natural desire to lead and provide as a potential microaggression. This psychological disarmament creates a generation of anxious, hesitant men, unsure of their place and fearful that any confident step will be perceived as an act of domination.
This is a tragic perversion of justice. A boy is not responsible for the sins of his ancestors. He should be taught history in its full, unvarnished truth, not as a cudgel to beat him into submission, but as a lesson from which to build a better future. His mission should be to embody the best of masculinity, not to atone for its worst manifestations.
An unapologetic man is not one who is blind to past injustices; he is one who is so confident in his own virtue and purpose that he has no need for the performative self-flagellation that our current culture often demands. He understands that his value is not in his gender, but in his character and his actions.
And what of those actions? The core of this debate revolves around the fundamental roles of men. The proposition is simple, yet today, it is considered almost radical: Men should not abuse, but should provide.
This is not a call for a return to a 1950s archetype where a man’s worth is solely his paycheque. Rather, it is an acknowledgment of a deep-seated, biological, and psychological imperative that has defined male existence across cultures and epochs.
The drive to provide, to protect, to build, and to contribute to something larger than oneself is a cornerstone of male identity and well-being. It is the antidote to the listlessness and despair that plague so many young men today. When a man is providing—for his family, his community, or his own future—he is grounded. He has a mission. He has a reason to get up in the morning, to endure hardship, to strive for excellence.
This is why the emerging trend of young men actively seeking out wealthy women to look after them is so deeply inimical to the core traits of a healthy man. The “sugar baby” or Ben 10 culture, the normalisation of a man living comfortably in a home he does not pay for, sleeping on a bed he has not earned, and enjoying a lifestyle funded by someone else’s labour, is not progressive; it is emasculating. It is a betrayal of a man’s fundamental purpose.
We are sadly witnessing a generation of young men with no problem being pampered and financially supported by a woman.
They have been sold a lie that this is a form of liberation—freedom from the “burden” of responsibility. But this is a Faustian bargain. In exchange for temporary comfort, they surrender their self-respect, their autonomy, and their very raison d’être.
A man who does not provide is a man adrift. He may have comfort, but he will never have true contentment, for he is living in direct opposition to his nature. The psychological toll of this dependency is immense, fostering resentment, passivity, and a deep-seated sense of inadequacy that no amount of pampering can cure.
This is not to say that relationships must be rigidly transactional or that men cannot go through periods of struggle where they need support. Life is complex, and partnerships are about mutual support. But the intent is everything.
There is a world of difference between a man who is temporarily down on his luck but burning with the desire to rebuild, and a man who has made a lifestyle out of being a permanent passenger. The former is a situation; the latter is a character flaw.
The clarion call, then, is for men to be men. But we must immediately define our terms, for this phrase has been co-opted by caricature. To be a man does not mean one doesn’t listen, is highly opinionated to the point of boorishness, is uncouth, or is a ruffian. Quite the opposite. The highest form of man is the gentleman.
A gentleman is the very embodiment of controlled strength. He listens intently because he seeks to understand, not just to reply. His opinions are firm but reasoned, and he holds them with the humility to admit when he is wrong.
He is not uncouth; he respects himself and others too much to be slovenly in manner or speech. He is certainly not a ruffian; his strength is disciplined, deployed for protection and construction, never for intimidation or petty dominance.
The gentleman provides, but his provision extends beyond the financial. He provides stability in a crisis. He provides a listening ear without immediately jumping to solutions.
He provides a moral compass for his children. He provides respect and loyalty to his partner. He provides a strong shoulder for his friends. This is the modern provider—a multifaceted pillar of strength and support.
This ideal of manhood is not oppressive; it is liberating. It gives boys a positive blueprint to follow—one of strength channelled into service, of ambition tempered by integrity, of confidence paired with courtesy. It tells them, “Your strength is needed. Your drive is valuable. Your protective instincts are good. Here is how to use them well.”
On this day after International Men’s Day, we must move beyond hollow celebrations and performative hashtags. The greatest gift we can give the boychild is not an instruction to be more like a girl, nor an apology for his existence.
It is a clear, challenging, and honourable path to walk. It is the gift of expectation. We must expect him to be strong, and show him that true strength is gentle. We must expect him to provide, and teach him that provision is an act of love. We must expect him to be a gentleman, and demonstrate that courtesy is the mark of a confident man.
Let us stop pressuring our sons to be something they are not. Let us instead challenge them to become the best of what they can be: unapologetic, purposeful, and noble men. For when men are encouraged to build, to provide, and to protect with virtue, it is not just men who benefit — it is all of society that reaps the reward.
The world does not need fewer men; it needs better men. And it is our collective duty to ensure the next generation knows what that truly means.
Nick Mangwana is the Permanent Secretary for Information, Publicity and Broadcasting Services
