I am here as a woman in her 40s, asking myself a question that has been on my mind since I came across the comments attributed to Daniel Nortey: “ Why are we behaving as if it is not normal to rape someone? Which man hasn’t raped a lady before?”
Did he really say something we have not heard before? Something we did not grow up hearing from our peers, in our communities and sometimes even in casual conversations among adults?
Many of us grew up hearing boys say things like, “A woman will say no until you force yourself on her.” Some said it jokingly. Others said it with a disturbing sense of confidence. And sometimes, those around them laughed, dismissed it as boys being boys, or simply moved on.
But how many of us challenged them? How many of us stopped those conversations and explained that forcing yourself on a woman is not a sign of masculinity? How many of us made it clear that consent is not optional?
Instead, we grew up in a society that spent considerable time teaching girls how to avoid being raped, but not nearly enough time teaching boys that they must never rape.
We told girls to dress appropriately. We told them not to walk alone at night, not to visit certain places, not to drink too much, not to trust strangers and not to put themselves in situations where men might take advantage of them.
We taught them to cover up, be careful, watch their surroundings and protect their reputations.
And when a woman was sexually assaulted, one of the first questions she often faced was: “What was she wearing?”
Not, “Why did he think he had the right to touch her?”
Not, “Did he obtain her consent?”
Not, “Why did he ignore her refusal?”
But, “What was she wearing?”
Somehow, we turned the conversation from the actions of the perpetrator to the appearance and behaviour of the victim.
We made women feel responsible for men’s behaviour
Think about the message we have repeatedly sent to girls and women over the years. If you dress a certain way, a man might attack you. If you go out at night, you are putting yourself at risk. If you are too friendly, a man might misunderstand you. If you drink, you might be blamed for what happens to you.
If you are assaulted, people may examine your choices before they examine the choices of the person who assaulted you.
Over time, we have created a culture in which women are expected to manage men’s sexual behaviour through their clothing, movement, speech and lifestyle.
We have made women feel that their safety depends largely on how well they can avoid provoking a man.
But let us ask ourselves an uncomfortable question: Why is the responsibility for preventing sexual violence placed so heavily on the potential victim rather than on the person who chooses to commit the offence?
A woman can dress modestly and still be assaulted. A woman can dress in revealing clothing and still have every right to refuse sexual advances. A woman can be in a relationship, be married, or have had consensual sex with someone before and still say no.
Clothing is not consent.
Friendliness is not consent.
Silence is not consent.
Marriage is not permanent consent.
And being in the same room with someone does not give that person ownership of your body.
We must stop presenting women’s clothing as an explanation for men’s decision to commit sexual violence. Whatever a woman wears, the responsibility for rape lies with the person who commits it.
But what were we teaching the boys?
This is where the conversation becomes even more important.
While we were teaching girls how to protect themselves, were we teaching boys how to respect boundaries?
While we were telling girls to be careful around men, were we telling boys that a woman’s body is not theirs to claim?
While we were warning daughters about the dangers of walking alone, were we having honest conversations with our sons about consent, sexual pressure, coercion and respect?
Or did we assume that boys would somehow figure it out as they grew older?
We cannot ignore the influence of the things boys hear among their peers, the jokes that normalise sexual aggression, the entertainment that portrays persistence as romantic, and the social expectations that suggest a man must always pursue sex, regardless of a woman’s response.
Some boys are taught that a woman who says no is merely playing hard to get. Others grow up believing that persistence is proof of love, that a man must insist until a woman gives in, or that sexual conquest is a measure of manhood.
These beliefs must be challenged.
A boy must understand that rejection is not humiliation. A man must understand that being sexually attracted to a woman does not give him a right to her body. And every child must learn that another person’s boundaries are to be respected, not negotiated through intimidation, pressure or force.
We cannot continue to excuse harmful attitudes as harmless jokes simply because they are expressed among friends.
What we laugh at today can become what we tolerate tomorrow.
And what we tolerate repeatedly can become a social norm that is difficult to challenge.
We preached submission but sometimes neglected accountability
For generations, many women have been taught to be submissive, accommodating, patient and forgiving. In relationships and marriages, women are often reminded of their responsibilities to respect and satisfy their partners.
But how often do we give equal attention to the responsibility of men to respect women?
How often do we teach boys that leadership does not mean control, that strength does not mean intimidation, and that masculinity does not require sexual dominance?
Submission cannot mean surrendering your right to bodily autonomy.
Marriage cannot mean that a woman loses the right to refuse sex.
Love cannot mean that a person must endure sexual pressure to prove their commitment.
And no man should be taught that his needs, desires or authority automatically take precedence over a woman’s consent.
If we are serious about healthy relationships and responsible families, we must teach respect and accountability to both sexes.
We cannot keep placing expectations on women while treating men’s behaviour as something women must learn to manage.
Protecting the girl child is not enough
Let me be clear: empowering girls and women is necessary. Teaching girls to recognise danger, defend their boundaries and report abuse matters. Providing survivors with support, protection and access to justice matters.
But these measures alone cannot solve the problem.
We must also raise boys who understand consent, challenge friends who make degrading comments about women, and hold perpetrators accountable for their actions.
We need parents to have difficult conversations with their sons. Schools must teach respect, consent and healthy relationships in age-appropriate ways. Religious institutions, traditional leaders, the media and public figures must stop reinforcing the idea that women are responsible for preventing men’s misconduct.
And when boys express harmful beliefs, we must correct them rather than excuse them.
This responsibility does not belong to mothers alone. Fathers, uncles, brothers, teachers, coaches and male role models must be part of this conversation.
Men must be willing to challenge other men, particularly in spaces where women are absent and harmful attitudes are expressed freely.
We need boys to hear from the men they admire that a real man does not prove his masculinity by overpowering a woman. He demonstrates character by respecting her choices, including when she says no.
We must stop asking the wrong questions
When a woman reports sexual assault, our first response should not be to investigate her clothing, question her character or speculate about why she was in a particular place.
We should listen, take the allegation seriously, support her safety and allow a fair process to establish the facts.
Accountability and due process matter. Every allegation must be handled responsibly. But neither due process nor the presumption of innocence requires us to humiliate survivors or make assumptions about their clothing and behaviour.
A woman’s outfit is not evidence of consent. Her decision to attend a party is not permission for sexual contact. Her decision to enter someone’s home is not an agreement to have sex.
And if a woman changes her mind, her decision must be respected.
We must move away from a culture that places survivors on trial while leaving the attitudes that enable sexual violence largely untouched.
The conversation must change
The statement attributed to Daniel Nortey should prompt us to examine more than one individual’s words. It should make us reflect on the beliefs we have heard, the jokes we have tolerated, the lessons we have taught and the harmful narratives we have allowed to survive.
Rape is not normal. It is not an inevitable part of being a man. It is not a rite of passage, and it is certainly not something every man has done.
We must not allow a harmful statement to define all men. Many men understand consent, respect women and actively oppose sexual violence. We need more men to speak up and help change the attitudes that enable abuse.
But we must also stop pretending that harmful beliefs do not exist simply because confronting them makes us uncomfortable.
For too long, we have told women to dress differently, behave differently, move differently and live differently to reduce the risk of being assaulted.
Perhaps it is time to ask what we are teaching the boys who grow into the men we warn our daughters about.
Perhaps we need to examine why a woman’s clothing attracts more public scrutiny than a man’s decision to disregard her refusal.
Perhaps we need to acknowledge that while personal safety advice can be useful, it must never become a way of transferring responsibility for sexual violence from the perpetrator to the victim.
We cannot keep teaching girls how to avoid being raped while failing to teach boys not to rape.
Protect the girl child. Empower women. Support survivors. Demand accountability.
But let us also raise boys who understand consent, respect boundaries and know that no woman owes them access to her body.
Because until we change the narrative, we will continue treating the symptoms while neglecting the root of the problem.
The question is no longer only, “How do we protect our daughters?” It must also be, “What are we doing to ensure our sons understand that women are human beings to respect, not bodies to conquer?”
That is a conversation we should have started a long time ago.