THE ANATOMY OF A DISTRACTION - by Inioluwa Adeyeye

THE ANATOMY OF A DISTRACTION(A Novice’s Piece)I haven’t been able to post for a while school work, stress, life but trust me, I’ve been watching everything. The trends, the debates, the chaos. Some are funny, some are painfully stupid, but one stood out in its absurdity and its urgency: Gender-Based Violence, and the way some men turn every serious conversation into an attention-seeking performance. So, to all the men out there, let this novice write her piece. I hope you read it, because apparently I have to beg men to use their brains half the time. I am tired. We are all tired. Not just from carrying our bodies through a world that treats them like targets, but from the exhausting, Sisyphean labor of explaining the obvious. Let’s state this plainly: Gender-Based Violence (GBV) is not a debate.It is not an opinion. It is not a “both sides” issue. GBV is violence committed against someone because of their gender , a system built on unequal power. It is physical, sexual, emotional, economic, and psychological harm. It is threats. It is coercion. It is deprivation of freedom. It happens in public and private, loud and silent, visible and hidden. GBV disproportionately affects women and girls that is a fact. A heavy, historical, globally documented fact. But mention this, and watch the performance begin. The moment we whisper *domestic violence*, the echo comes back as a shout: “What about the men?”The moment we speak of sexual assault, suddenly the room fills with men rushing to declare their innocence before we even mentioned them. The moment we name the system, too many of you leap into the spotlight, desperate to make the conversation revolve around your feelings. You are not listening to the data of broken lives. You are calculating how to redirect the spotlight. You twist our pain into a prompt for your own monologue our call for justice into your audition for victimhood. But if we are going to talk about GBV, then let’s talk about the things you avoid the most the parts of the conversation that make you shuffle in your seats and search for distractions. Let’s talk about FGM.Female Genital Mutilation is not “tradition.” It is not “culture.” It is violence passed down like inheritance. It is a girl held down by the very hands meant to protect her. It is fear pulsing through her body as someone decides that her pain is a rite of passage. It is a blade unsterile, unkind , cutting not just flesh, but dignity, pleasure, safety, identity. No anesthesia. No comfort. Just a room full of silence heavy enough to choke. And afterward, she is expected to smile. To walk. To grow. To carry the wound like it is normal. But mention FGM, and somehow men still manage to ask, “But what about the men?”Let’s talk about rape.Let’s talk about the girls who never report because they know the world will ask what they were wearing. Let’s talk about the women who carry trauma in their bones, in their breath, in the way they flinch at footsteps behind them. Let’s talk about the survivors who had their boundaries, their bodies, and their futures ripped apart only to face a society more eager to protect the reputation of the rapist than the life of the victim. And yet, when we speak about rape, men turn the conversation into a defensive exercise: “I would never do that.” “I’m a good guy.” “Not all men.” As if our trauma exists merely to measure their morality. Let’s talk about abortion.Let’s talk about the audacity of controlling a womb you will never carry. Let’s talk about the cruelty of forcing a woman to continue a pregnancy born from violence. Let’s talk about the hypocrisy of men who disappear at conception but reappear at legislation. Abortion bans are not about life. They are about power. Power over a woman’s body, her future, her pain, her autonomy. Imagine dragging yourself through pregnancy while your body is shutting down — but being told to “trust God” by men who have never trusted women. Imagine watching laws close in around you while knowing that even your survival is something you must negotiate. And still, the chorus chimes in: “Why are women so dramatic?” “Why are women so emotional?” This is why.Because GBV is a sinking ship. Women are drowning. And instead of helping, so many men stand on deck screaming, “I FEEL BAD ABOUT THE SHIP!” That is not solidarity. It is noise. It is ego dressed as empathy. We are not asking for your attention. We are demanding your accountability. True courage is not whining for applause because you acknowledged basic reality. True courage is standing quietly beside the woman speaking, directing your energy toward the violence, not against the conversation. Take your attention-seeking back. Sit down. Listen. Then stand up , not in front of us, but with us , and use your voice to dismantle the system we are all fighting to survive. Womanhood is dying not in the poetic sense, not in the symbolic sense, but in the literal, blood-and-breath sense. It is dying in hospital beds where women are denied abortions that could save their lives. It is dying in back rooms where girls are forced into FGM. It is dying in bedrooms where rape is followed by silence. It is dying in courtrooms where justice becomes a negotiation instead of a necessity. Womanhood is dying in the way society teaches girls to shrink their dreams so men can stretch their egos.It is dying in the way we grow up learning safety tips before we learn algebra.It is dying in the way our pain must be polite before it can be believed. The world has turned womanhood into an endurance test , a curriculum of survival disguised as “femininity.”We are taught to smile through the wound, to dress the trauma in silence, to carry the weight of violence like tradition. But the death of womanhood is not just physical.It is spiritual.It is emotional.It is the slow suffocation of identity under the hands of systems built to control us. Womanhood is dying not because women are weak,but because the violence against us is powerful and too many men are comfortable calling it culture, calling it discipline, calling it protection, calling it “not all men.” But hear this:Every act of violence, every stolen choice, every silenced scream chips away at the sacredness of being a woman.And if the world continues like this, womanhood will not die quietly.It will go down fighting and it will haunt every system that tried to bury it.

Other insights from Inioluwa Adeyeye

Referral Earning

Points-to-Coupons