“To Kill A Monkey”: Efemini was Sexually Assaulted, Many Might Miss That

Kemi Adetiba’s fourth project, To Kill A Monkey has its audience asking a lot of questions surrounding the plights of Nigerians. Does poverty justify crime? What do we do about cybercrime eating away the future of young bright boys? And most significantly, did Efemini cheat on his wife when he “slept” with Madam Adunni? The latter question reflects a harsh and disturbing truth: many people still do not have a firm grasp of consent. 

The University of California CARE Program sums up consent in three words: informed, voluntary, revocable. Consent is “an unambiguous, affirmative and conscious decision by each person to engage in mutually agreed-upon sexual activity.” Consent is also “willing, positive cooperation in an act or the expression of a desire to engage in an activity. True consent isn’t coerced by manipulation, force, threats or intimidation. Silence is not consent.” And finally, consent “on one occasion doesn’t mean consent has been given for future sexual activity. Consent can be given and withdrawn at any point, regardless of the nature of the relationship. Once consent is withdrawn, any activity must stop immediately.”

In this sense, sexual assault can sometimes be without the graphic violence we have come to associate it with. “Many forms of sexual assault and violence fly over our heads and minds because we expect them to be ‘violent’ in nature or carry certain characteristics. This alters how we view survivors as well,” explains Zulu Anyaogu, a lawyer and human rights defender. Sexual assault does not always look the same. Sometimes, it is skewered power dynamics as mirrored in Efemini and Madam Adunni’s relationship; other times, it is a large age or experience gap wherein the much younger person can easily be manipulated. For example, a 35-year-old and an 18-year-old. 

The lack of “overt violence” in Efemini’s case has led many to dismiss his assault, trivialising it by framing it as adultery. While this dismissal stems from a limited understanding of consent, it also exposes society’s view on male victims of sexual assault. This skewed view is perpetuated by patriarchy and toxic masculinity. 

A core tenet of toxic masculinity is the “hypersexuality” it imposes on men. It holds that men are biologically wired to constantly and relentlessly desire sex. This belief is backed by historic notions that men needed to spread their seeds, continue their lineage. Although this seemingly insatiable male desire has since been discredited by biology, it is quite pervasive in popular culture today. It is driven by sayings like “men only want one thing”, “boys will be boys”, “if he’s breathing, he’s horny”, “what man would say no?”, “he’s a red-blooded male”, “men always want it.” This propagates a harmful perception; men are never victims. If they always want sex, how can they be sexually assaulted? 

Many men buy into this theory, and it often blinds them to their assault and that of others. Men who have been victims of statutory rape tend to wear it as a badge of honour, depicting their abuse as “scoring” with older women. In one of the viral tweets from The Boys Community, a member asked the question, “How did you lose your virginity?” The replies were various accounts of sexual assault clothed in boasts. One of the comments read, “It was taken away by Aunty Rafiat. Thank you, Aunty Rafiat, you made me enjoy my childhood.” Another replied, “Aunty Rosemary caught me staring at her bum bum that cold afternoon, the rest is history.” In 2024, a tweet where a man called the police on a female masseuse for harassing him saw many men criticising the victim. A user commented, “So this dude dialled 911 over a surprise bonus? Wild times we are living in.” Another response called his sexuality into question: “Sounds a little gay to me.”  With Efemini, he saw his assault as a means to an end; the abuse never registered. 

The effect of this attitude as regards male sexual assault is the continuous breeding of silence culture. “Many people believe that only women experience sexual abuse, and this misconception often shames men into staying silent about their own experiences” clarifies Joy Shokoya of  Mirabel Centre, a Shelter and Crisis Response Centre for sexual violence & trafficked survivors/victims. Shokoya notes that male victims deal with the shame of being abused by a woman rather than the abuse itself because they view it as more of an “emasculation” than a violation. This is echoed in Efemini’s reaction to his assault; he resents Madam Adunni not for the assault but the belittling. “A man who speaks out about being abused is often labelled a simp, because men are not expected to show vulnerability, they’re expected to suppress emotion and conform to rigid ideas of masculinity”, she unpacks. 

This unyielding concept of masculinity makes comprehending abuse a rigorous task. “Sometimes, the man struggles with articulating the feeling of violation, particularly when the act was initiated by a woman without his consent, or when his own arousal complicates his sense of what happened.” In one of the recent cases at the centre, a man who had been assaulted multiple times by a woman could not conclude that he was abused because he believed other men would not take him seriously, as men are supposed to show power and be aggressive. These are the defining traits of patriarchal masculinity heralded by society.

It is indeed true that men are the biggest beneficiaries of the patriarchy, but the privilege makes them oblivious to the noose it ties around their necks. Dismantling patriarchal ideas marked by aggression and hypersexuality humanises men and frees them of their shackles. It allows men to confront and recognise abuse, and helps them point to their abusers. And most importantly, it can lead to more discussions geared towards understanding consent, which benefits all genders. 

The opinion that men cannot be violated is false; it is a byproduct of toxic masculinity. Efemini was sexually assaulted, and our reaction to his assault is a call to challenge our ideals around consent and masculinity.

Praise Okeoghene Vandeh is a culture journalist and screenwriter with a Bachelors degree in History and International studies. Her work has appeared in Document Women, Marie Claire Nigeria, What Kept Me Up, Moda Culture amongst others.