The final Doek & Slay event at Harare’s Alex Sports Club on Sunday drew a staggering 23,000 women from across Zimbabwe, marking an unforgettable close to the year.
Women poured in from all corners, including Mutare, Gweru, Bulawayo, Masvingo, and even Victoria Falls. Some proudly held placards identifying their hometowns in a show of solidarity.
With its surging popularity, the event has transformed into more than a social gathering. For many women, it’s a celebration of empowerment, unity, and independence—creating a space that excludes men.
Barbra Ndoro, who traveled from Zvishavane, likened the energy to religious pilgrimages of the past. “This is our world. It’s about friendship, joy, and owning something for ourselves,” she said.
The sight of thousands of women celebrating together sparked uproar online. Some men flooded social media, criticizing the gatherings and questioning women’s motives.
Social platforms were soon ablaze, polarizing opinions. A vocal faction of men labeled the event inappropriate, while women pushed back, dismissing the criticisms as jealousy and insecurity.
Mazvie Jones didn’t mince words, suggesting men felt threatened by women’s autonomy. “Confident men aren’t intimidated by female friendships or a day out with the girls,” she wrote.
Jah Prayzah, Master H, Tamy Moyo, and Enzo Ishall headlined the show, amplifying its appeal and cementing its status as a cultural phenomenon. The high-energy performances thrilled the massive crowd.
Comments from the public reflected the growing gender tension. Fadzai Faffy Rupfutse jokingly suggested the next event would need South Africa’s massive FNB Stadium to accommodate everyone.
Others, like Michelle Machingura, mocked the backlash. “The abusive husbands association is well represented in the comment section,” she noted, highlighting the bitter online exchanges.
Wayne Tanaka Chisango praised women for their independence. “I’m super proud of you,” he said, echoing sentiments shared by many supporters of the movement.
Still, the criticism didn’t waver. Some men hurled insults, calling attendees “single women” and questioning their morals. Chef Phill claimed, “98% of those women have no men.”
Social media has turned into a battlefield of stereotypes and accusations. For many women, however, the criticisms seemed to fall on deaf ears as they celebrated their shared triumph.
The event’s overwhelming success reflects a deep sense of pride and ownership among participants. To many, the show is more than entertainment—it’s a statement of empowerment.
For critics like Wilo Wilocious, the gathering only fueled resentment. “It’s rare to see a decent married woman there,” he claimed, adding fuel to the online divide.
Conversely, supporters emphasized the importance of happiness and freedom. “Good therapy for the inner person,” Caritas Chiura noted, recalling youthful days of carefree joy.
The public reaction revealed deep-seated perceptions about women, marriage, and independence. Yet, women remain undeterred, with many already planning to make future events even grander.
Li Nda Cie pushed back against male hypocrisy, comparing Doek & Slay attendance to crowds at male-dominated events. “Why is it noise when women gather, but celebration when men do?”
The online arguments may rage on, but the numbers speak for themselves. Attendance continues to surge, signaling that Doek & Slay is more than a passing trend.
It’s a symbol of changing dynamics—women finding strength and joy in their own spaces, undeterred by online backlash or societal expectations.
If the turnout on Sunday is anything to go by, the next show promises to be even more electrifying, as women across Zimbabwe reclaim a space they can call their own.