What Michelle Obama can teach us about black love in the age of MacG

THE last time a Black man was loved without condition was often when he was a three-year-old boy in his mother's arms.

- WANDILE MTHIYANE

Beyond that, the tenderness fades. The world no longer sees his heart — it begins to value only his hands.

Across South Africa, this transi-tion begins early. Black boys are taught that their worth lies in how hard they can work, how well they can provide, and how long they can suppress their emotions. Vulnerability is considered a weakness, and emotional expression, a liability.

Michelle Obama, in her reflections on love and relationships, offers a striking insight that speaks directly to this reality:

"Young people think love is supposed to be easy. But true love demands work — hard work. It requires showing up in the small moments, even when it's not pretty."

This raises a sobering question: although Black men are taught to value hard work, they are only trained for physical hard work — to build, provide, and endure. How can a generation of men, shaped by economic hardship and emotional neglect, be expected to show up in love with hearts they were never taught to use? And when they inevitably fall short, how does society respond?

In South Africa, where poverty, gendered expectations, and colonial patriarchy intersect, the emotional incapacitation of Black men is neither coincidental nor isolated. It is systemic. And its effects are increasingly visible in personal relationships, cultural commentary, and online discourse — often with devastating consequences.