By Rodney Alubokho

In recent weeks, social media has once again turned into arenas, not for justice, but for gender wars. Posts about gender-based violence (GBV) elicit heated responses, not only from observers but from the same young people whom we would want to lead the change. Men and women—many of whom are themselves survivors—lash back with anger, resentment, and occasionally even faint defense of abuse. The actual conversation gets lost in the noise. 

It is critical to acknowledge that GBV is not only a policy buzzword or a courtroom term. It exists in the hidden scars—visible and invisible—of countless young people who have suffered abuse from someone who had previously earned their trust. To them, each GBV post is akin to pouring salt into a wound. Too often, instead of the healing that is so desperately needed, many vent their pain by displacing it—making fun of victims, minimizing their experiences, or reducing the conversation into a gendered game of blame. 

The same phenomenon was obvious during a recent internet debate after the comments made by the nominee for Gender CS, Hannah Wendot Cheptumo, where she attributed the murder of university women to them seeking funds. Rather than a rational debate, the comments swiftly degenerated into accusations and counter-accusations between the sexes. Lost among the anger was compassion—for the survivor, for other victims, and for others silently wrestling with their own traumas. 

However, it is possible to speak out of pain and still opt for peace. It begins with the realization that hurting people can and often do hurt others, but healed people help others. There need to be safe spaces where youths get in GBV conversations with compassion, not confrontation. 

Organizations like LVCT Health and the Centre for Rights Education and Awareness (CREAW) have made remarkable progress with their psychosocial support and digital literacy initiatives that mentor young people on how they can engage responsibly on the internet. However, there is still much left to be done. There is a need for schools, mosques, churches, and youth-led forums that create emotionally intelligent conversations where experiences are validated but not weaponized. 

Let us instruct our youth not only with the definition of GBV but also with the language of healing. For unless we can learn how to speak compassionately, we will continue losing the message within the noise. 

Rodney is a NAYA youth advocate