By Prosper Mene
In Nigeria’s political arena, women are scripting a story of striking contrasts—celebrated trailblazers breaking barriers, yet battling a relentless tide of sexism and exclusion. Today, this duality took center stage as public discourse spotlighted both the triumphs and tribulations of Nigerian women in leadership, a narrative unfolding against the backdrop of a nation where female representation remains stubbornly low.
The triumphs are undeniable. Figures like Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, the globally lauded Director-General of the World Trade Organization, and Aisha Yesufu, the firebrand activist who co-founded the #BringBackOurGirls movement, stand as beacons of what Nigerian women can achieve. Their names trended online today, praised for reshaping narratives of leadership and resilience. Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, one of just four women in Nigeria’s 109-member Senate, joined their ranks—her recent defiance against alleged harassment by Senate President Godswill Akpabio earning her widespread admiration. “These women are proof we belong at the table,” said Kemi Adebayo, a political analyst in Lagos. “They’re not just surviving—they’re rewriting the rules.”
Yet, the turmoil is equally stark. Akpoti-Uduaghan’s story took a dramatic turn today when the judge hearing her appeal against a six-month Senate suspension withdrew, citing pressure from Akpabio’s camp. The suspension, handed down after she accused Akpabio of sexual harassment, has ignited outrage among women’s groups, who see it as a blatant attempt to muzzle dissent. “This is what happens when women speak truth to power in Nigeria,” said activist Oby Ezekwesili, herself verbally attacked by a pro-Akpabio senator this week. The episode underscores a grim reality: with women holding just 3.7% of National Assembly seats—ranking Nigeria 179th globally for female representation, per UN data—progress remains a battlefield.
Social media captured the tension vividly. Posts today hailed heroines like Okonjo-Iweala and Yesufu, while others lambasted women like First Lady Remi Tinubu and Abike Dabiri-Erewa, head of the Nigerians in Diaspora Commission, for allegedly aligning with controversial political agendas. “We celebrate the queens who lift us up, but call out those who prop up the system dragging us down,” one X user wrote, summing up the polarized sentiment. The criticism reflects a broader frustration: even as some women ascend, others are seen as complicit in a patriarchy that keeps most locked out.
The numbers tell a sobering tale. Since Nigeria’s return to democracy in 1999, female representation has barely budged, a stark contrast to neighbors like Rwanda, where women hold over 60% of parliamentary seats. Cultural barriers—derogatory labels like “prostitute” hurled at female candidates, as seen in past Bauchi elections—and structural hurdles like exorbitant campaign costs keep the glass ceiling intact. “It’s not enough to have a few stars,” said Funmi Oladele, a gender studies professor at the University of Ibadan. “We need a system that lets every woman with vision step forward.”
Today’s developments hint at both hope and hurdles. Akpoti-Uduaghan’s fight has galvanized women’s networks, with protests planned in Abuja next week. Meanwhile, younger voices—like 28-year-old Zainab Yusuf, who announced her 2027 candidacy for a state assembly seat—signal a rising tide. “I’m inspired by the triumphs, but I’m running because of the turmoil,” Yusuf said. “We can’t wait for permission anym
ore.”
This gives an insight on the struggles and wins of women in the Nigerian political landscape.
