On a warm evening in Dakar, Senegal’s bustling capital, the air buzzed with the sound of conversation as a group of fourteen men gathered in a modest community center. At the front stood Ibrahima Diane, a 53-year-old imam, ready to challenge long-held beliefs about masculinity, marriage, and responsibility. His message was simple but powerful: “The Prophet himself says a man who does not help support his wife and children is not a good Muslim.” As Diane described bathing his baby and helping his wife with chores, some men chuckled—clearly not all were convinced. But others applauded, perhaps recognizing a new path forward.
Diane’s session was part of a unique “school for husbands,” a United Nations-backed initiative that’s quietly transforming communities across Senegal. The program trains respected male leaders to embrace and promote “positive masculinity” in health and social issues, encouraging them to become advocates for gender equity in their own homes and neighborhoods. According to reporting from the Associated Press, the approach is gaining traction in a country where, as in much of West Africa, men traditionally hold the final say in major household decisions—especially those related to health.
In Senegal, women often require their husband’s permission to access family planning, reproductive health services, hospital deliveries, or even basic prenatal care. This dynamic can have life-altering consequences. But Diane’s sermons, delivered during Friday prayers, are beginning to chip away at these barriers. “Many women appreciate my sermons,” he explained. “They say their husbands’ behavior changed since they attended them.” Some men, too, have told Diane that his talks inspired them to become more caring husbands and fathers.
Habib Diallo, a 60-year-old former army commando, credits the school for shifting his perspective. “When my son’s wife was pregnant, I encouraged him to take her to the hospital for the delivery,” Diallo recalled. “At first, he was hesitant. He worried about the cost and didn’t trust the hospital. But when I explained how much safer it would be for both his wife and the baby, he agreed.”
The “school for husbands” program has been running in Senegal since 2011, but it’s only recently caught the attention of the Ministry of Women, Family, Gender and Child Protection as a promising strategy to combat stubbornly high rates of maternal and infant mortality. “Without men’s involvement, attitudes around maternal health won’t change,” said Aida Diouf, a 54-year-old health worker who collaborates with the initiative. Many husbands, she noted, still prefer that their wives not be treated by male health workers, further complicating access to care.
This innovative approach is not unique to Senegal. Similar programs in Niger, Togo, and Burkina Faso—supported by the United Nations Population Fund—have improved women’s access to reproductive health services by increasing male involvement, boosting the use of contraceptives among both men and women, and expanding access to prenatal care and skilled birth attendants. Discussions for men also extend to topics like girls’ rights, gender equality, and the harmful effects of female genital mutilation.
Today, more than 20 schools for husbands operate across Senegal, with over 300 men trained as peer educators. These men are carefully recruited based on trust, local respect, leadership, commitment, and a track record of supporting women’s health and rights. Candidates must be married and embedded in their communities. Once trained, they visit homes and host informal talks, acting as bridges between traditional norms and new, more equitable practices.
The results are beginning to show. In some communities, men who once enforced strict patriarchal rules are now promoting gender equality. According to Senegal’s gender ministry, this shift has led to fewer forced marriages and greater acceptance of family planning. “My husband used to not do much around the house, just bark orders. Now he actually cooks and helps out with daily tasks,” said 52-year-old Khary Ndeye, reflecting on the change she’s seen at home.
Despite progress, the challenges remain daunting. While maternal and infant deaths in Senegal have declined over the past decade, the numbers are still sobering: in 2023, there were 237 maternal deaths for every 100,000 live births, and 21 newborns out of every 1,000 died within their first month. The United Nations has set ambitious targets—to reduce maternal deaths to 70 per 100,000 live births and newborn deaths to under 12 per 1,000 by 2030—but Senegal has a long way to go.
One of the key issues is the prevalence of home births, which often lack the safety and resources of hospital deliveries. El Hadj Malick, a coordinator for the program, emphasized the importance of male engagement: “By educating men about the importance of supporting their wives during pregnancy, taking them to the hospital and helping with domestic work at home, you’re protecting people’s health.”
Changing mindsets, however, is no easy feat. Malick admits that discussions around gender can sometimes spark tension. “When we just talk to them about gender, there is sometimes tension because it’s seen as something abstract or even foreign,” he said. Some men even mistakenly believe that such conversations are meant to promote LGBTQ+ issues—still largely taboo in much of West Africa. But Malick has found that reframing the discussion around women’s right to be healthy resonates more deeply. “When we focus on women’s right to be healthy, it puts a human face on the concept and it becomes universal,” he explained.
Programs like these are a testament to the slow but steady progress possible when change comes from within the community, led by those who command respect and trust. The ripple effects are already visible: men are taking on more domestic tasks, supporting their wives’ health decisions, and advocating for safer childbirth practices. The hope is that, with continued effort, these shifts will translate into fewer maternal and infant deaths, healthier families, and a more equitable society for everyone.
As dusk settled over Dakar, Diane’s group finished their discussion. Some men still seemed skeptical, but others left inspired—perhaps ready to challenge old habits and embrace new roles at home. It’s a quiet revolution, unfolding one conversation at a time, but its impact may be felt for generations to come.