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Nigeria, Africa's largest democracy, faces a significant challenge in its journey toward true democratic representation: the glaring underrepresentation of women in its legislative bodies. The numbers tell a stark story. In the National Assembly, women occupy only 20 out of 469 seats. This disparity becomes even more pronounced at the state level, where some State Houses of Assembly have zero or just one female representative. Such statistics place Nigeria among the lowest-ranking countries globally in terms of women's legislative representation. In recent years, there has been increasing focus on improving women's political representation in Nigeria as a pathway to gender equality. However, the experience of countries like South Africa, where high female parliamentary representation (40% female parliamentary representation) coexists with persistent gender-based challenges, raises important questions about this approach. In Nigeria, understanding this complex relationship between representation and actual outcomes is crucial for advancing women's rights effectively.
"While increasing women's political representation in Nigeria remains important, it shouldn't be seen as a silver bullet for achieving gender equality"
While South Africa boasts over 40% female representation in its National Parliament, Nigerian women occupy less than 10% of legislative seats. Yet, a critical examination of both countries reveals a troubling paradox: South Africa's higher representation has not translated into proportionally better outcomes for women's rights. Despite their contrasting representation levels, both nations grapple with similar challenges. Nigeria faces endemic gender-based violence affecting about 30% of women and severe underrepresentation in STEM fields where women comprise only about 20% of professionals. South Africa, despite its impressive parliamentary numbers, confronts comparable issues with GBV, femicide, and gender gaps in various sectors. This parallel existence of challenges, despite vastly different levels of political representation, raises crucial questions about the effectiveness of focusing solely on numerical representation. In Nigeria's context, this insight is particularly relevant as it suggests that simply pushing to match South Africa's 40% representation – while important – may not be the silver bullet for addressing fundamental gender inequalities. The fixation on achieving higher numbers of women in political office, whether in Nigeria or South Africa, appears to overlook the deeper structural, cultural, and systemic barriers that perpetuate gender inequality.
Nigeria's journey in women's rights has seen significant milestones, starting with the 1929 Aba Women's Riots, where thousands of women protested against colonial taxation and political marginalisation, showcasing early feminist consciousness and organised resistance. Post the 1995 Beijing Conference, Nigeria has made notable, albeit uneven, progress. Politically, women's representation in the National Assembly has increased from 2.4% in 1995 to about 7.3% today, though only 44 out of 991 state assembly members are women. Economically, women's labor force participation has risen from 39% to 48%, yet the gender pay gap remains at 25%, and women own 43% of MSMEs but access only 2% of commercial credit. Educationally, female literacy rates have improved from 40.6% to 59%, with girl-child enrollment in primary education increasing from 76% to 84%, and female enrollment in tertiary education growing from 22% to 47%. However, 30% of women aged 15-49 still experience gender-based violence, with only 28% of cases reported, despite 35 out of 36 states passing the Violence Against Persons Prohibition Act.
While increasing women's political representation in Nigeria remains important, it shouldn't be seen as a silver bullet for achieving gender equality. The South African example shows that high representation numbers alone don't guarantee the protection of women's rights or the elimination of gender-based challenges.Instead, Nigeria needs a holistic approach that combines political representation with structural reforms, cultural transformation, and grassroots activism. Only by addressing these multiple dimensions can we hope to achieve the kind of meaningful change that goes beyond numbers and creates real impact in women's lives.
While the Beijing Platform for Action's emphasis on women's political participation through gender quotas has gained global traction, with over 100 countries adopting such measures, Nigeria's experience echoes South Africa's revelation that numerical representation alone doesn't guarantee substantive change. Despite Nigeria's National Gender Policy recommending 35% representation for women and various quota proposals over the years, the country's female parliamentary representation remains below 10% - yet even if Nigeria achieved South Africa's impressive 40% female representation, the fundamental challenges might persist. Recent Nigerian data illustrates this disconnect: states with relatively higher female political representation haven't necessarily shown better outcomes in addressing gender-based violence (which affects 30% of Nigerian women), reducing maternal mortality (which remains among the world's highest), or advancing women's economic empowerment (with the gender pay gap still around 25%). This suggests that Nigeria's focus should shift from simply pushing for more women in politics to cultivating and supporting feminist leaders who deeply understand and actively champion women's rights. The experience of Nigerian women's rights organisations reveals that some female politicians, constrained by party loyalties or cultural pressures, haven't prioritised gender-responsive policies, while certain male legislators have actively supported women's causes - demonstrating that feminist consciousness, rather than gender alone, may be the crucial factor in advancing women's rights through political leadership.
In Nigeria's political landscape, women face deeply entrenched patriarchal structures, the call for feminist leadership transcends mere numerical representation to address fundamental power dynamics. Recent studies from Nigerian women's rights organisations reveal how female politicians, often constrained by party loyalties, have sometimes perpetuated rather than challenged gender inequalities – for instance, some female legislators voted against the Gender and Equal Opportunities Bill, highlighting how descriptive representation doesn't automatically translate to feminist advocacy. The Nigerian experience demonstrates that while having women in politics offers important symbolic value, particularly in inspiring younger generations (with recent data showing increased political aspirations among young Nigerian women), the transformative change needed to address Nigeria's persistent gender inequalities – including a 25% gender pay gap, 30% prevalence of gender-based violence, and severely limited access to reproductive healthcare – requires leaders with explicit feminist consciousness. This is particularly evident in states where female politicians aligned with traditional party structures have failed to challenge harmful practices, while certain feminist-oriented leaders (both male and female) have successfully pushed for gender-responsive budgeting, maternal health initiatives, and girls' education programs. The intersectional nature of Nigeria's gender challenges, complicated by regional, religious, and socioeconomic factors, underscores why feminist leadership – which recognizes and addresses these interconnected systems of oppression – is crucial for meaningful progress beyond symbolic representation, as demonstrated by the success of feminist-led initiatives in addressing complex issues like early marriage in northern Nigeria and women's economic exclusion in rural areas.
The critique of women politicians in Nigeria must be viewed through a lens of fairness, recognising the double standards they face compared to their male counterparts. While data shows that female legislators, who comprise less than 10% of Nigeria's National Assembly, are often scrutinised for their commitment to women's causes, male politicians rarely face similar expectations to champion men's rights. This inequitable scrutiny is evident in the criticism faced by female politicians during the Gender and Equal Opportunities Bill debates, where their voting choices were heavily scrutinised regardless of complex political realities.
Drawing parallels with Nigeria's own historical feminist heroes like Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti and Margaret Ekpo, who fought against colonial oppression and for women's suffrage, today's challenge lies in identifying and supporting feminist-oriented leaders while maintaining the push for increased women's representation – a dual approach that recognises both the inherent right of women to political participation and the need for feminist consciousness in leadership. Recent successes, such as the passage of the Violence Against Persons Prohibition Act in several states, demonstrate how feminist-oriented legislators (both male and female) can effectively advocate for women's rights while working within existing political structures. The experience of Nigerian women's rights organisations shows that rather than expecting every female politician to be a perfect champion of women's rights, the focus should be on building coalitions of feminist-oriented leaders who can challenge patriarchal systems while continuing to advocate for increased women's political participation as a fundamental democratic right – recognising that just as Nigeria's pre-independence female activists fought for both representation and substantive change, today's struggle requires a nuanced approach that doesn't sacrifice one goal for the other.