The videos begin like romantic skits, with young men kneeling and clutching imaginary engagement rings or flowers, mimicking a proposal.
Then a caption appears reading: ‘Practicing in case she says no.’
Suddenly, the videos take a dark turn, as the men erupt into violent outbursts, ‘training’ to attack women who reject them.
One video shows a man pulling a kitchen knife from his jacket before repeatedly stabbing at an invisible off-camera woman.
Another shows a man viciously punching a pillow sprawled across the floor as though it were a person.
Others carry out the trend inside gyms, beating dummies and kicking punching bags while apparently imagining a woman turning them down.
In several especially disturbing clips, men mimic pulling out guns and opening fire.
In another viral video, a man performs the trend with a real woman, kicking her in the groin after she pretends to reject him.
Men carry out the trend inside gyms, beating dummies and kicking punching bags while apparently imagining a woman turning them down
A man performs the trend with a real woman, kicking her in the groin after she pretends to reject him
One video shows a man viciously punching a pillow sprawled across the floor as though it were a person
The trend, which has spread rapidly across Brazilian TikTok in recent weeks, has horrified women’s rights campaigners and prompted intervention from Brazil’s Federal Police and from TikTok itself which removed the videos from the platform.
The creators behind it are mostly young Brazilian men, whose attempts at dark humour reflect all too well the grim reality of a country grappling with a surge in femicides.
Brazil recorded 1,470 femicides in 2025, according to data from the Ministry of Justice and Public Security – the highest number since the crime was formally codified into Brazilian law in 2015.
The figure surpassed the previous record set in 2024 and amounts to roughly four women murdered every day.
In many of the country’s most horrifying recent attacks, the trigger was not robbery or organised crime, but rejection.
In April, 20-year-old Alana Rosa was stabbed more than 15 times inside her home in São Gonçalo, in Rio de Janeiro’s metropolitan region by Luis Felipe Sampaio, a man who had persistently pursued her for months after meeting her at a gym.
According to relatives, he repeatedly sent messages and gifts despite her lack of interest and continued attempting to contact her after she made clear she did not want a relationship.
One day, he broke into her home and launched the frenzied knife attack. Alana miraculously survived after spending nearly a month in hospital.
In Pernambuco, a 22-year-old woman was stabbed and set on fire by a former co-worker who had become obsessed with her after she rejected him romantically.
In Minas Gerais, a 38-year-old woman was fatally stabbed after rejecting a man who allegedly attempted to forcibly kiss her during negotiations over the sale of a mobile phone.
According to police, the suspect later claimed he had ‘blanked out’ and attacked her after she refused his advances.
And in São Paulo, a man fatally ran over and dragged his former partner, resulting in the amputation of both her legs and ultimately her death.
Under Brazilian law, femicide refers specifically to gender-based killings, particularly those linked to domestic violence, misogyny or contempt towards women.
The legislation recognises that women are often murdered not simply because of interpersonal conflict, but because some men believe they have the right to control or punish women who do not conform to expected behaviour.
Professor Fiona Macaulay, an expert on gender violence in Brazil and Professor of Gender, Peace & Development at Bradford University, told the Daily Mail that the TikTok videos reflect the broader society in which some men increasingly feel entitled to punish women for refusing them.
‘The law recognises that there are social norms around what society expects from women,’ Macaulay said, ‘and that women are often killed by men out of a desire to punish or control them.’
‘It’s all about hierarchy, and women are positioned as controllable. Whether it’s religious or secular nationalism, left or right, women are often placed lower in the hierarchy.
‘The idea that women should have equality is treated as somehow threatening.’
She also believes Brazil’s own political climate helped intensify these attitudes.
During the presidency of Jair Bolsonaro, the hard-Right former president cultivated an image built around hypermasculinity, or ‘machismo’, hostility towards progressive politics and contempt for the vulnerable, including women, she said.
Bolsonaro also loosened gun ownership laws, dramatically increasing civilian access to firearms in a country already marked by high levels of violence.
‘There has been a kind of permission given for the use of violence that I think didn’t exist before,’ Macaulay said.
She described Bolsonaro as embodying ‘swaggering masculinity’ and said the wider movement surrounding him reinforced hierarchical ideas about gender and power.
‘There’s a creeping climate where some men feel emboldened,’ she said. ‘Feeling like violence against women is justified because men rule the roost and women shouldn’t be saying no to them.’
For decades, Brazilian courts allowed men accused of murdering wives or girlfriends to use what became known as the ‘honour defence’, arguing they had been driven into uncontrollable rage after discovering infidelity or suffering humiliation.
The legal doctrine effectively framed women themselves as responsible for provoking the violence inflicted upon them.
By the 1970s, women’s movements in Brazil were protesting furiously against the defence, arguing that it legitimised femicide and excused male brutality.
Brazil’s Supreme Court eventually ruled the defence unconstitutional in 1991.
‘But I think vestiges of that thinking still remain,’ Macaulay said. ‘The idea that women should be punished for perceived misconduct.’
That mentality, she argues, helps explain why rejection itself can become so dangerous.
Alana Rosa, pictured with scars on her body after being stabbed more than 15 times by Luis Felipe Sampaio
Women participate in a demonstration to demand that the Chamber of Deputies approve a bill that criminalizes misogyny in Sao Paulo, Brazil
‘The most dangerous period for any woman leaving a violent relationship is the twelve months after she leaves,’ Macaulay explained.
‘But men can also become violent not only when a real relationship ends, but when an imagined or desired relationship is rejected.’
The TikTok videos, she believes, embody precisely that mindset.
‘She said no to you. I wanted a relationship with her. She said no. So I’m going to punish her for the temerity of saying no.’
The violence is not experienced equally across Brazilian society. Nearly two-thirds of femicide victims in Brazil are Black women, many of whom live in dangerous favelas run by gangs with no police presence.
‘Brazil has a long history of slavery and racial inequality, and racism absolutely plays a role. Victims are often targeted based on perceived disposability or social value,’ Macaulay said.
‘If somebody is racist, they may see Black women as less valuable, less likely to have their murders properly investigated.’
At the same time, a growing worldwide phenomenon known as the ‘manosphere’ has led to a disturbing overlap between online misogyny and real-world violence.
As defined by UN Women, the manosphere is a network of online communities that promote ‘narrow and aggressive definitions’ of manhood while pushing the false idea that feminism and gender equality have somehow oppressed men.
Over recent years, experts have increasingly warned that these ideologies do not remain confined to online spaces.
Investigations into prominent manosphere influencers have revealed business networks and communities built around these ideas, while authorities in several countries have raised concerns about links between online misogyny and offline violence.
An investigation by the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project recently examined how the Spanish city of Marbella has become a gathering point for prominent manosphere influencers.
These included figures connected to Andrew Tate, whose content has become enormously influential among young men globally.
One example is British influencer Harrison James Patrick Sullivan, known as HSTikkyTokky who was recently the subject of a documentary by Louis Theroux aptly titled ‘Inside the Manosphere.’
HSTikkyTokky promotes a macho lifestyle to his male – often underage – followers, with a focus on asserting dominance in relationships, pursuing wealth and adopting an aggressive, ‘alpha male’ identity.
The reporting mapped how what once appeared to be isolated social media content had evolved into a genuine network operating through livestreams, podcasts, business ventures and social circles.
‘We live in the same world as the Andrew Tates of this world,’ Macaulay said. ‘Brazil is not immune from that.’
The reach of this online misogynistic ideology is evident in recent criminal cases in the country.
One example saw an 18-year-old gang-rape suspect turn himself in wearing a ‘Regret Nothing’ T-shirt, one of Tate’s catchphrases.
A separate case involved a senior police officer who justified murdering his wife by demanding she be an ‘obedient’ partner to his self-styled ‘alpha male’ persona.
However, despite the grim statistics, Brazil has also developed some of the region’s most ambitious anti-femicide policies.
Specialist domestic violence patrols linked to the Maria da Penha law, named after a woman whose husband attempted to murder her twice, have been rolled out in many cities across the country.
Under the system, women granted restraining orders can enroll in police protection programmes where specialist officers regularly check in on victims and monitor perpetrators.
The patrols, which often use bright pink police vehicles, are designed both to deter abusers and encourage communities to report domestic violence.
‘Women who stay enrolled in these programmes generally do not get murdered,’ Macaulay said.
And now, a new trend is emerging – videos of women training in combat sports, from punching boxing dummies to executing martial arts throws on men
Since Brazil introduced its femicide law in 2015, police forces have gradually become better at identifying murders motivated by misogyny rather than recording them as generic homicides.
‘What you see in the data is partly that police have become much better at identifying cases where women were murdered for reasons of misogyny,’ she explained.
‘About 60 to 65 per cent of murders of women can be categorised as femicides.’
Brazilian women are now fighting back against the rising misogyny and violence against them.
After the Senate approved a landmark bill to criminalize hatred against women as a hate crime in March 2026, the legislation moved to the Chamber of Deputies for a final vote.
Free self-defence workshops, like those recently held by the Instituto de Defesa da População Negra (IDPN) in Rio, are becoming popular among women seeking the skills necessary to fight off male attackers.
According to a recent survey, six in every ten Brazilian women practice or want to take up a combat sport, with more than half of them citing learning to protect themselves as a reason.
So now, in the face of the manosphere’s online dominance, a new trend is beginning to surface.
Videos are circulating of Brazilian women training in combat sports, from punching boxing dummies to executing martial arts throws on men – to ensure they never become a victim.
