Perhaps one of the most overlooked privileges is not wealth itself, but having enough margin in your life to respond to reality. Over the last few years, we have become fluent in the language of privilege, speaking easily about financial privilege, pretty privilege, racial privilege, passport privilege, educational privilege and social privilege, and in doing so we have become increasingly aware that people do not all start from the same place and that some doors open more easily for some than for others. Yet there is one form of privilege that seems to receive far less attention, and that is the privilege of being able to do something with the information you have, not simply knowing, but acting, because the truth is that information alone changes very little. We like to imagine that if people only knew better, they would do better, and entire industries are built around this assumption, from self-help books and documentaries to podcasts, awareness campaigns, public health initiative...
Chris Brown’s song Loyal is catchy, no doubt. But listen closely to the lyrics: “When a rich man wants you, and your man can’t do nothing for you… these hoes ain’t loyal.” The entire weight of betrayal is dumped on the woman. The man who knowingly chases someone else’s partner? He is invisible, blameless, even glorified. This narrative isn’t confined to music — it mirrors society. The Invisible Man, the Visible Woman Think about it: a man pursues a married woman, or a man flirts with someone in a relationship. When the story breaks, the woman is branded “unfaithful,” “cheap,” “disloyal.” Yet the man is rarely dragged into the spotlight. He is excused as “just being a man,” or worse, admired for his boldness. In Kenya , scandals play out the same way. Side chicks become national gossip. Their faces and names are plastered everywhere. But the married men who approached them, funded them, or promised them the world? Their reputations remain intact. The blame is not shared. It is ske...