“Women are born with value, but men have to build their value because they are the disposable sex.” Jacob Aliet’s words capture the core ethos of Unplugged, a book that has earned him both a devoted following and accusations of misogyny. For the past three years, he has been topping Nuria’s bestselling charts every quarter, and I was intrigued about the man behind the book and his participation in shaping the Kenyan manosphere. I joined him for a 55 km Relentless Walk, and together we Unplugged as we moved along the winding route. From his online activity and posts, it is easy to mistake him for a man who hates women. What is not as easily mistaken, however, is his unabashed, idiosyncratic brand of male supremacy. And with Red Pill and Alpha Male rhetoric saturating the internet, Aliet appears poised to crown himself Kenya’s self-styled “Master of Masculinity.”

Despite the forcefulness of his ideas online, the man who showed up for the walk was markedly different from the digital persona. Aliet moved with an almost disarming calm, engaging the walkers with easy humour and the occasional unsolicited life lesson. The group around him, mostly men, and one woman, walked with a determination and drive reserved for someone who has carved out a niche in their minds. It became clear that while his online rhetoric thrives on provocation, in person, his appeal lies in his ability to frame struggle, discipline and self-reinvention as a masculine pilgrimage. His followers, diverse in age, are Kenyans searching for structure, confidence and meaning in a world that often feels unstable. Aliet offers them language—sometimes crude, sometimes compelling—for articulating their frustrations. For some, that language becomes empowerment. For others, it risks mutating into disdain. The tension between those two outcomes forms the unspoken current beneath his growing influence.

Polarised reactions

Online, the reception to Unplugged mirrors the tension I witnessed during the walk. On Goodreads, the book attracts a strikingly polarised set of reactions. Just over half of its ratings are five stars, with a loyal segment of readers praising Aliet for articulating ideas they feel are ignored or suppressed in mainstream conversations. Jesse Nyokabi, for example, applauds him for unpacking “the unspoken truth about the modern woman”—from hypergamy to feminism and masculinity—in a way Nyokabi believes sharpens understanding for both genders.

Yet the criticism is equally forceful. Kat dismisses the book as “oversimplified mansplaining” and “sensationalist,” worried that younger readers may walk away with a skewed and biased view of women. Mercy Wambui offers a more conflicted response: she describes the book as relatable and engaging, but admits that she frequently questioned Aliet’s depiction of the modern woman, arguing that the bias distracts from the insight. Even readers who lean positive, like Mark Mwangi, point out recurring examples that bog down the pacing, albeit he still finds the book valuable for spotlighting “the things fathers should have taught us.”

These competing interpretations underline Aliet’s position in the cultural moment: a writer whose work resonates deeply with some, unsettles many, and provokes almost everyone who encounters it.

“Do you find that your followers are becoming increasingly adversarial towards women, with some no longer interested in marriage?” I asked him. The question made him slow down slightly, as though weighing it before answering. I was walking beside him, my tiny feet trying to catch up with his pace. The other woman and a host of other gentlemen were slightly ahead of us, silent, their expressions unreadable; behind us, a man kept a deliberate pace, listening with the kind of attentiveness that suggested he had a stake in the conversation.

Aliet admitted that he is always struck by the question, arguing that it usually stems from those who don’t like him, like the single mothers in the sexual market. “I am married myself, so how can I tell men not to marry? I only insist that a man should build his value first before going into marriage,” he said, adding, “and better understand the female nature.” His tone was calm and didactic, as if outlining a universal law rather than a personal philosophy. The man behind us nodded almost imperceptibly, absorbing every word. The women remained quiet, their silence adding an unspoken tension to the moment. I realised then that this was the dynamic that fuels Aliet’s influence: men who feel affirmed, women who feel appraised, and a conversation that hovers somewhere between guidance and provocation.

Money

“Think about it, Tracy,” he nudged me. “Do you really think women care about a man being God-fearing or kind when they don’t have money?” he asked. When a young man steps into marriage without resources, he only sets himself up for failure because women will always date up. This is why I talk about hypergamy. I don’t have an issue with it, but men need to know that they must have resources if they are thinking of long-term commitments with women.”

So, is marriage the marker of success in life?” I asked him after a long detour into why, in his view, women’s empowerment is breaking families. He had spoken at length about shifting gender roles, about men losing ground in their homes, about women becoming “too independent”, and how women lose their innate value. When he answered, it was with a familiar argument dressed in the language of psychology. “When women get money, they want to be independent,” he said. “But when men get money, they want to spread their success to their wives, sidechicks, and children. That is just evolutionary psychology, not Aliet speaking.”

As Aliet spoke, I found myself struck by the contrast between his calm delivery and the sweeping generality of his claims. To him, these ideas were tidy explanations for complex social shifts. These, of course, landed differently to me: somewhere between a provocation and a dismissal. The air around us briefly thickened with that unspoken tension: the divide between those who feel validated by his worldview and those who feel reduced by it.
I asked some of the men whether they subscribed to Aliet’s school of thought. Most said they agreed with significant portions of his philosophy, though they were quick to insist that much of it reflected his personal worldview rather than a universal truth. Still, the themes were consistent: men are supreme; women lose value when they age or have multiple partners, while men—“masterkeys”—somehow remain exempt; and men cheat to stay in relationships, while women cheat to leave them.

Emotional grounding

Yet beneath these declarations, something else became evident. For all the talk of male superiority, men seem deeply dependent on women for emotional grounding. It was hard not to notice the contradiction: women are branded the fragile sex, but it is men who appear emotionally brittle, requiring women to shrink themselves for the relationship to function. Without making women feel small, many men fear they have no chance at all. And then there are the women who contort themselves to fit this narrative in the hope of being chosen. It isn’t inherently wrong as every person eventually finds someone who matches their beliefs, but it does raise questions about internalised misogyny and what women sacrifice in the process.

We even strayed into the subject of why women often fall for narcissistic men. Aliet pointed to Beauty and Bester on Netflix, arguing that the dynamic is almost archetypal: the difficult man, the patient woman, and the promise of transformation that seldom arrives. It was a telling example—part explanation, part warning.

Apart from these wild musings, Aliet was surprisingly calm. The contrast between his measured presence and the provocation of his ideas perhaps explains both his devoted following and the unease he stirs in others. Walking beside him made one thing clear: Aliet’s worldview is not merely a set of opinions; it is a mirror reflecting the anxieties and contradictions of modern masculinity. Men claim supremacy yet depend on women for emotional stability; women shrink themselves to be chosen, even when the choosing devalues them; and the narratives we cling to continue to reinforce the very traps we complain about. Aliet may be controversial, but he exposes a truth that many would rather avoid: our relationships are shaped not just by love but by the power we fear losing.

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