Letter from the Editor
A few months Ago, I sat across from a friend (I’ll call him Tonderai), who’s a well-paid executive for a prestigious bank and owns a thriving restaurant business. Almost in tears, he admitted he was tired of being seen as the best at what he does, a problemsolver by his employees and family.
‘I tend to be the one asking other people if they’re okay,’ he said. ‘And because I’ve always given people the impression
I’m strong, no one ever bothers to ask me if I’m alright. Sometimes I resent my siblings for not asking me how I am. But I can’t blame them because I created this always-incontrol persona.’
Perhaps you can relate to Tonderai in the same way I could. As men, we learn to build walls around ourselves from an early age without even being aware of it – we make things work, provide, toughen up and don’t cry or show our emotions. The most progressive parents may have raised you, but in society, there’s an unspoken rule that even when you hang out with other men, you can’t talk about important things such as the nitty-gritty of feelings and mental health. More often than not, men don’t ask each other how they really are.
According to WHO, the suicide rate for men in South Africa was four times higher than for women in 2019, which is a pretty good reason to talk more bafethu (gentlemen) to your partner, mates, brothers, fathers, and, if necessary, a professional.
As much as I’d seen many of my male friends and relatives erect these barriers, I’d always considered myself evolved enough to articulate my feelings until a recent argument I had with my partner.
She was fed up, and she said, ‘The last time we argued, I thanked you for having a heart-toheart with me. Do you know why?’ I admitted I didn’t, so she continued,
‘As loving as you are, you struggle to open up when it comes to your feelings.’
Her comment hit me like a ton of bricks. Before I had a chance to rebut, she proceeded to give me examples of times when she’d had to threaten to leave the room to get me to open up. After our conversation had ended, I knew I had to find a new way of being.
As men, we need to open up about our feelings and not bottle things up. But if you’re not used to doing that, it can seem like a mammoth task. As they say, practice makes perfect. Our wellness feature,
‘60 Men Commit Suicide Every Hour’ (page 26), delves more into the topic.
On a lighter note, in this issue, we feature young creatives, with one of the music industry’s most talented creatives, producer Prince Kaybee, as our cover star. He features on dual covers, a first for any cover star in the magazine’s history. If you could pick two men who could converse for an entire day nonstop, it’d be Prince Kaybee and me. From the first time we chatted on Instagram Live last May to the day of our cover shoot and interview, it was as if we’d known each other for years.
Another guy I could talk with forever, and who could teach me to be more open, is Stormers rugby player Seabelo Senatla.
His interview with Sharks captain and Springboks player Lukhanyo Am is pretty dope and introduces a new Sports Section to GQ. You can expect more chats with famous African sports stars.
Here’s to wishing you a safe winter and hoping you’re as pleased with this issue as we were when we were putting it together. Until next time.