The water in your mouth: On silence, strategy, and the unspoken dynamics of power

What does it mean to hold your peace? Is silence a shield or a cage? When does a tactical pause become a permanent surrender? I carry a specific piece of wisdom from my mother, given at the start of my marriage. She advised that when my husband began a quarrel, I should take a mouthful of water but not swallow it. Her meaning was literal. With a full mouth, you cannot talk back. This instruction was a lesson in the complex power of silence. It was both a strategy for de-escalation and a symbol of constrained voice. It frames the central tension in gender dynamics. Silence can protect or it can oppress. It can be a deliberate space for thought or a forced enclosure.

What does it mean to hold your peace?

How often have you been praised for your quietness? Silence is not a mere absence of sound. It is an active presence in our relationships. It shapes power structures and reinforces social norms. In many African communities, cultural prescriptions around silence are particularly pronounced, especially for women. Silence is often framed as a virtue. It signifies respect, humility, and communal harmony. Yet this imposed quiet has a direct consequence. It limits participation in decision-making. It reinforces male authority in family and community forums. When a woman is expected to be silent during critical discussions, that silence is not neutral. It is a tool of exclusion. It maintains an imbalance by design.

Silence as cultural prescription and control

When does a cultural norm become a mechanism of control? To view silence only as submission is a profound simplification. Silence can also be a strategic choice, an act of agency. In hostile or volatile environments, choosing not to speak can be a survival mechanism. It can provide critical time to assess danger, to plan, or to deflect aggression. My mother’s water ritual contained this dual truth. The good was the enforced pause. It prevented a reactive shout, allowing time to calm one's thoughts and consider a measured response. The bad was the risk of internalising that silence. If you never swallow the water, if you never give voice to your views, you may be silenced forever. Your unspoken words become a quiet burden of resentment. Furthermore, such withheld speech can sometimes inflame the other person, potentially escalating tension. This duality is where we must look with clear eyes.

The duality of silence: Between strategy and submission

What is the personal cost of a strategic silence? We must ask specific questions. Who benefits from this cultural silence? Who is harmed by it? How does a community differentiate between respectful listening and enforced muteness? The answers expose the machinery of control. They challenge us to dissect tradition from oppression.

Silence as complicity: A moral reckoning

What injustices have you witnessed but not named? This conversation finds a stark parallel in certain religious teachings. The idea that silence can equal complicity is a challenging one. Biblical texts, such as in Isaiah, call for raising one's voice and not holding back in the face of injustice. From this perspective, silence in the face of wrongdoing is a moral failure. It is an endorsement of the status quo. This principle applies directly to gender inequality and violence. When we witness discrimination or abuse and say nothing, our silence becomes part of the architecture that supports it. It offers implicit permission. For advocates and policymakers, this understanding is fundamental. Promoting gender equality requires the deliberate breaking of harmful silences.

Gender-based violence and the ecology of silence

Why does violence depend on a network of quiet? Nowhere is this more critical than in addressing gender-based violence. This violence thrives in an ecosystem of silence. Fear, stigma, and institutional failure convince survivors that silence is their only option. This silence grants impunity to perpetrators. It allows cycles of abuse to continue unbroken. Breaking this silence is therefore a powerful act of justice. It requires creating safe, non-judgmental spaces for survivors to speak. It demands community education that shifts blame from victim to perpetrator. Across Africa, grassroots movements have shown the way. They use community dialogues and storytelling circles to shatter the taboo. These initiatives transform private pain into public testimony, empowering survivors and mobilising communities.

Reclaiming silence: Tactical pauses and agency

Can we reclaim quiet as a source of strength? Given its risks, can silence ever be reclaimed as a tool for empowerment? The answer is yes, but with intentionality. Strategic silence is active, not passive. It can be employed in several ways.

• First, as a discipline of reflection. Taking a moment of silence before responding allows for a considered, clear statement. It prevents reactive emotion from undermining your message.

• Second, as an act of inclusion. Choosing silence can mean consciously stepping back to create space for others to speak, particularly those whose voices are marginalised.

• Third, as a signal of disapproval. Refusing to engage with or validate harmful discourse through silence can be a potent form of non-cooperation.

• Fourth, as the foundation of active listening. True listening requires quiet. It demonstrates respect and creates the conditions for genuine dialogue.

• Fifth, as a source of inner resilience. Quiet reflection builds the personal clarity and strength needed to sustain advocacy.

This strategic use of silence is not about submission. It is about reclaiming control over when and how one speaks. It moves silence from a state of imposition to one of agency.

Moving beyond silence to action

What is the first word you need to say? Recognising the power of silence is only the first step. Meaningful change demands we move beyond analysis to action. We must use our voices to challenge discriminatory norms and policies openly. We must stand with survivors, offering not just sympathy but practical support and advocacy. We must educate our communities, illustrating how harmful silence perpetuates inequality. We must engage men and boys as essential allies, encouraging them to examine and reject silent complicity. We must influence policy, working for legal frameworks that protect rights and amplify voices.

My mother’s advice was a product of its time and context. It was a pragmatic tool for navigating the world she knew. Our task is to honour that pragmatism while transcending its limitations. We must create realities where the water is taken for thought, not for silence. Where the mouth is cleared to speak with conviction, to question, and to shape the conversation itself. Do not confuse strategic pause with eternal quiet. The ultimate goal is not to master the art of holding water in your mouth. It is to find the courage, the moment, and the safe space to swallow it and speak.