NewsOpinions

Tokenism or transformation: The gender bills and politics of inclusion in Nigeria

By Lemmy Ughegbe, Ph.D

 

Nigeria’s 10th National Assembly is once again standing at a familiar crossroads, that of promise and pretence. The reintroduction of the gender bills, especially the one proposing special seats for women in parliament, offers another chance to correct the long-standing imbalance in women’s political participation. Yet history warns us to temper our expectations. We have seen these pledges before, which are lofty declarations of inclusion, only for them to die quietly in the labyrinth of political expediency.

Several of the so-called five gender bills were first presented during the 9th National Assembly. They sought to amend the Constitution to reserve special seats for women, grant citizenship rights to foreign spouses of Nigerian women, ensure affirmative action in party leadership, and strengthen gender equality measures.

All five failed to secure the required votes, revealing not just a lack of political will but a deeper resistance to women’s equal participation in governance. The rejection in 2022 was a stinging blow to gender advocates across the country and exposed the deep-seated patriarchy that continues to shape Nigeria’s political institutions.

Now, with the 10th Assembly revisiting one of those bills, House Bill 1349, proposing special seats for women, the debate has been reignited. The bill recently passed its second reading in the House of Representatives and was referred to the Committee on Constitutional Review.

Another bill seeking to amend citizenship laws to allow foreign spouses of Nigerian women to acquire citizenship is also under consideration. On the surface, these developments might suggest progress, but beneath the surface lies a more complex and disquieting reality.

Just days ago, on October 11 2025, Nigeria joined the world to mark the International Day of the Girl Child. From podium to podium, government officials made the usual affirmations about empowering the girl child and dismantling gender barriers.

Yet, the hollowness of those speeches becomes evident when placed beside the reality in the National Assembly. The same political establishment that waxes lyrical about inclusion is hesitant to institutionalise it.

Their rhetoric may soar on anniversaries, but their votes betray them when it matters most. Until the promises made to the Nigerian girl translate into tangible legal and political inclusion for women, such commemorations will remain annual exercises in public relations rather than milestones of progress.

Even the proposed special seats approach, which many have hailed as a modest breakthrough, risks being another exercise in tokenism. The intention may appear noble, but noble intentions rarely drive the political ecosystem in Nigeria.

The fear among many gender advocates is that these reserved seats, if approved, may not necessarily empower women but rather empower the same political godfathers who already dominate the system.

In a political culture where loyalty often trumps merit, there is a real danger that those who will fill these women’s seats will be handpicked by male powerbrokers seeking to expand their influence under the guise of gender inclusion.

This concern is not hypothetical; it is rooted in the realities of Nigerian politics. Time and again, women who emerge through political appointments or anointed tickets find their independence curtailed by the men who sponsored them.

Unless deliberate safeguards are built into the proposed law ensuring transparency, merit, and independence in how these seats are filled, the initiative could end up reinforcing the same patriarchal dominance it seeks to dismantle.

Real reform must go beyond the symbolic inclusion of women to the substantive empowerment of women who can think, speak, and act for themselves.

The central question, therefore, is not whether Nigeria should create special seats for women, but how those seats will be managed and protected from the clutches of political manipulation.

Genuine representation requires more than female faces in parliament; it requires women who carry the credibility and courage to speak truth to power, even when that power is male and mighty. Anything short of that will be a cosmetic fix, a reform in name only.

It is important to recall that the rejection of the gender bills in 2022 triggered one of the most organised and peaceful women-led protests in recent Nigerian history. Civil society groups, professional associations, and everyday Nigerian women converged on the National Assembly complex in Abuja, demanding a reversal of the decision.

The symbolism of that moment was powerful; it showed that Nigerian women are not begging for favours, but demanding fairness. They are not asking to be included as tokens, but as equal citizens with the right to shape the nation’s destiny.

In fairness, the leadership of the 10th Assembly has publicly promised to prioritise women’s inclusion in the ongoing constitutional review process. Both the Senate President and the Speaker of the House of Representatives have spoken of their commitment to ensuring that the gender bills do not suffer the same fate as before.

However, promises from political leaders in Nigeria have a short shelf life. Until those pledges translate into actual legislative votes, they remain little more than political sound bites.

The issue goes beyond the legislature. Political parties must also take responsibility for perpetuating the exclusion of women. Many parties pay lip service to gender inclusion, yet their nomination processes remain deeply skewed against female aspirants.

Women are often discouraged by the prohibitive cost of nomination forms, the culture of violence during primaries, and the male-dominated party structures that control access to tickets. Without comprehensive reforms in party systems, constitutional amendments alone will not achieve meaningful gender equality.

Critics of the special seats proposal often argue that it is a shortcut, that women should compete on equal footing rather than rely on reserved spaces. But that argument overlooks the historical imbalance and structural barriers that have kept women from even entering the field.

Quotas and special seats are not acts of charity; they are corrective mechanisms to level a field that has long been tilted. Countries like Rwanda and Tanzania have demonstrated how affirmative action in political representation can transform governance and bring diversity of thought and accountability into national decision-making. Nigeria, with its vast human capital and democratic aspirations, cannot continue to lag.

However, Nigeria’s implementation must be genuine, not cosmetic. If special seats merely produce proxies of powerful men, then we would have institutionalised tokenism, not empowerment.

The actual test will be whether the women who occupy those seats are empowered to legislate independently, champion policies that address women’s realities, and challenge the systemic barriers that continue to marginalise half of the population.

Ultimately, this conversation is about trust … trust in leadership, in process, and in the sincerity of reform. Nigerians have heard enough speeches. What they want to see are measurable outcomes.

The trust deficit between citizens and their leaders, especially on matters of inclusion and equity, cannot be bridged by rhetoric alone. It requires courage … the courage to pass laws that may upset the status quo but will strengthen the Republic.

The time for symbolism has passed. The 10th National Assembly has an opportunity to make history by doing what its predecessors failed to do, not by offering crumbs but by opening the table of governance to women as equal partners.

Anything less would be a betrayal of the girl child whom they celebrated on October 11, and of the countless Nigerian women whose brilliance has been dimmed by systemic exclusion.

Inclusion is not a favour. It is the foundation of democracy itself. Nigeria cannot claim to be a true democracy while keeping women at the margins of power. The world is watching, and history will remember whether this Assembly chose tokenism or transformation.

Dr Lemmy Ughegbe, ANIPR, writes from Abuja

[email protected]

WhatsApp ONLY: +2348069716645

Show More

Related Articles

Leave a Reply

Back to top button
Close

Adblock Detected

Please turn off Adblocker or whitelist this website in your Adblocker to enable us display ads