Why men suffer domestic violence in silence

Why men suffer domestic violence in silence (Photo: iStock)

The global spotlight recently shone on an unexpected scene involving France’s President Emmanuel Macron and his wife, Brigitte.

While in Hanoi, Vietnam, staff opened the door of the plane carrying Macron, at which point two hands allegedly reached out and pushed him in the face.

While the details of the alleged mid-air altercation remain unclear, a video captured by onlookers was quickly circulated on social media, igniting a flurry of reactions.

In response to the viral clip, Mr Macron dismissed the incident, stating that the video had captured him and his wife Brigitte “bickering and joking around”, which he said they often do. He added: “I’m surprised by it. It’s turned into some kind of global catastrophe, with people coming up with theories to explain it. It’s nonsense.”

While Macron’s quick deflection is understandable in the glare of the public eye, it raises a critical question: Why is domestic violence against men so consistently downplayed, dismissed or even denied?

For centuries, the narrative of domestic abuse has predominantly and rightly centred on women as victims. This focus has been crucial in raising awareness, enacting protective laws and establishing support systems. However, this singular focus has inadvertently created a blind spot, leaving a significant proportion of victims in the shadows: men.

When a man is abused by their partner, they often face a societal response ranging from disbelief and ridicule to outright dismissal. This clashes with deeply ingrained patriarchal norms that equate masculinity with strength, dominance and invulnerability.

The downplaying of domestic violence against men is a global phenomenon, rooted in cultural expectations that dictate how men ‘should’ behave. From a young age, boys are often taught to be tough, to suppress their emotions and never to show weakness.

This conditioning creates a formidable barrier to acknowledging abuse, let alone seeking help. The shame associated with being a male victim is immense. Imagine a man, a husband and father, confiding in a friend or family member that his wife hits him, controls his finances or subjects him to relentless verbal abuse.

The likely response in many circles would be a dismissive laugh, the suggestion to ‘man up’, or the insinuation that he must have provoked it. The fear of not being believed, of being ridiculed or of losing face is a powerful deterrent that can keep men trapped in abusive relationships for years or even a lifetime.

“The societal narrative around domestic violence is heavily gendered and while it’s vital to address the pervasive abuse against women, we must also acknowledge that men are victims too,” says Dr Eve Waruingi, a clinical psychologist.

“The prevailing stereotype of the ‘strong, stoic man’ makes it incredibly difficult for male victims to come forward. They internalise the shame, fearing that admitting to abuse diminishes their masculinity in the eyes of society, their peers and even themselves,” Dr Waruingi explains.

David, a 48-year-old accountant and father of two, still struggles to reconcile his wife’s perfect image with her abusive behaviour.

‘For years, I told myself it wasn’t abuse. She’d hit me mostly on my arms or chest when she was angry. But it was the emotional abuse that really broke me. She would belittle me in front of the children and threaten to leave with them if I ever stood up to her,” he confesses.

David says it took him years to admit to himself, let alone anyone else, that he was a victim. He felt like a failure and a weak man who couldn’t protect his family from his wife. He continued to endure the abuse, using alcohol as a coping mechanism.

For Michael, the abuse was not physical; it was almost invisible, a slow-growing tumour that eroded his self-worth. “My ex-girlfriend was abusive, but not physically. At first, her isolating me from my friends felt like love, but then she started checking my phone, dictating what I wore and constantly telling me that I was nothing without her,” says Michael.

After a year of abuse, his confidence and self-worth had plummeted. It wasn’t until a colleague noticed how withdrawn he had become and gently suggested he seek help that he realised what was happening to him was abuse.

“It’s hard to explain to people that emotional abuse can be just as crippling as physical violence, especially when you’re a man,” Michael says.

James, who has been married for five years, has a different, more troubling perspective. He says that his wife has a temper and will go to any length to challenge him and she even boasts that nobody will believe him.

“She’s slapped me a few times and thrown things. All the while, she shouts for the neighbours to help her, claiming that I’m killing her. Nowadays, the theatrics have died down. My phone is always ready to press play. I know this isn’t a solution, but it saves me from the drama,” James says.

Like David, James takes solace in alcohol. Most of his friends and family think his wife is an angel and they’d probably laugh him out of town if they knew what happened behind closed doors.

“What kind of man lets a woman hit him?” They’d say it’s weak. You either take it or leave. But you don’t complain. That’s not what men do,” James says.

The stories of David, Michael and James are not isolated incidents. The 2014 Kenya Demographic and Health Survey (KDHS) revealed that an astonishing 44 per cent of men aged 15-49 reported experiencing some form of violence from their female partners during their lifetime.

This figure is nearly equivalent to the percentage of women (45 per cent) who reported similar experiences.

A study focusing on Kisumu slums found the prevalence of intimate partner violence against men to be as high as 76.1 per cent, with emotional violence being the most common form (47.5 per cent), followed by economic (23.8 per cent) and sexual violence (16.5 per cent). Physical violence, while less reported in this specific study, still affected 12.2 per cent of men.

Globally, the ManKind Initiative (UK) has reported that in 2023/24, one in three victims of domestic abuse were male, equating to 712,000 men. Lifetime prevalence figures suggest that 13.7 per cent of men will be victims of domestic abuse at some point in their lives.

Alarmingly, however, only 4.8 per cent of victims supported by local domestic services are male, highlighting a significant gap in support.

Furthermore, 58.9 per cent of men who call helplines have never spoken to anyone about the abuse before, and 64 per cent would not have called if the helpline were not anonymous, which highlights the deep shame and fear involved.

These figures challenge the pervasive stereotype that domestic violence is exclusively a female issue. They reveal a silent epidemic exacerbated by cultural pressures, a lack of awareness and inadequate support systems.

“We need to create a society where a man can say, ‘I am being abused’, and be met with empathy, support and belief rather than scepticism or laughter. Until we do, a significant portion of our population will continue to suffer in silence, their unseen scars a testament to a societal failure that we can no longer afford to ignore,” says Dr Waruingi.