For a day dedicated to supporting men and boys, it makes sense to look at the actual structures that hold men together. The real support systems. Their communities. Their friends.
The starting point is simple: men aren’t allergic to support. So this year, we asked five men: where does your support come from?
Their responses map out what that support looks like through communities formed through shared history, chosen families built in adulthood, and groups where vulnerability isn’t punished. The kind if safety every boy should grow into.
Nimi*, 32
On a random day in June 2020, I shuffled through my Google Drive and noticed that the same faces had appeared in my photos since 2014. So I thought if these people can be in my pictures every year, they must be my tribe. I was right, and I’ve been good since.
It’s tricky to quantify the amount work went into building this community, and the support that’s come from them. The most challenging part for me was the amount of voluntary disclosures I had to give and receive, and that’s still ongoing. The WhatsApp chats and the FaceTime calls never end, and I also walkie-talkie my friends to keep in touch.
My community is my top priority, and I treat them accordingly. I know I will always find all the love and support I need in them. They are always there and will answer me when needed. As a result, there has never been a time when I was scared that I’d wake up and not see my people again.
About a year ago, I was forced offline due to a severe power outage in my area. By the second day of the blackout, these people, at different times, stormed my house to confirm I was good. One of them burst into tears when they saw that I was alive and well. This deep level of love? I can’t take it for granted.
That same evening, they dragged me out of the house, and my friend entered a dance competition so she could win a power bank and hand it over to me: she didn’t want me to ever go off the grid again.
They’ll always have my back. Life has been fair to me because of these people. Money can’t buy that.
Dami, 30
I have two communities, each serving different purposes. One is a group of three people I’ve been friends with since uni. They’re my closest friends, and it’s easy because we grew up together in a way.
The second is a group of 12 boys, and they’re there for more serious matters — the personal and intimate matters I can’t discuss without being judged. It’s interesting how this works because I met them recently. However, I warmed up to them the more I spent time with them and saw how freely everyone interacted with one another.
Each group support me the way they can, and it works for me.
It’s great I have these two groups in my corner; having them around helps me figure stuff out. In 2018, the 3-man group helped me navigate my most serious heartbreak. They’d met my ex several times and knew how I felt about her, so they got what I was going through. They checked in multiple times, and one even reached out to her to fix things. The same group swooped me and supported me through the next heartbreak.
They’re also a solid sounding board and are the first people I tell things to when they happen. There’s no other way to say it — they are my safe space.
Ayo, 31
I’m a people person, so I have different friend groups. I grew up with some and met others through school, work, or other friends. But in all these groups, a close bond has been formed.
I’m not going to lie; it took some work to get there, from the serious stuff like showing up when they needed me to everyday things like celebrating their wins. But it was all worth it because now I know they’ll always have my back. It makes living more pleasant.
I’ve been homeless twice, and I wasn’t bothered. I knew I wouldn’t sleep under a bridge; I just needed to reach out to some of my people and let them know I was in a fix. On both occasions, two of my guys took me in. The first was free, and the second let me pay the rent at my convenience. It doesn’t get better than that.
Oluwatosin, 28
For years, I didn’t think I needed a community of friends. Most people form strong friendships or communities in university, but I was a lone ranger. It’s not like I didn’t have friends, but I didn’t see the need to create or nurture a community that would be my safe space.
This thinking only changed about three years ago. I’m not sure how, but I’m glad it did, and I should have given it a chance much earlier.
The first step in finding these folks was to identify what we had in common, which formed the basis of our bond. Now that I have them, they support me emotionally and financially. A while back, I felt the weight of family and work pressure crushing me, and these people got me through it. Also, I know who I can ask for the urgent ₦2k and the significant loans. We prioritise refunds. This keeps the relationship healthy.
I’ve learned that I can always be vulnerable with them, and they’ll make me feel safe. There’s no high-pressure situation they can’t get me out of. It’s reassuring.
David, 26
My siblings are my support group, and they’ve always been. In secondary school, I’d hear people talk about the not-very-nice experiences they had with members of my family, and I was always like, “Wait, what? My family is so chill.”
This outcome is primarily driven by my parents’ efforts to make us a close-knit group — I’m grateful for it. The primary thing I feel with them is love, which is excellent for my quality of life.
Two of my close friends also recently left the country, so my siblings have become an even more integral part of my community. We talk every day, I’m close with their kids, and I even live with one of them. They make me feel incredibly lucky.
