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Reality television has always thrived on conflict, and in Nigeria no show has perfected that formula quite like Big Brother Naija. Introduced to the Nigerian audience in 2006, BBN has become one of the country’s most influential cultural exports, shaping slang, style, and Saturday night Twitter (X) battles. But somewhere along the way, the producers […]
Reality television has always thrived on conflict, and in Nigeria no show has perfected that formula quite like Big Brother Naija. Introduced to the Nigerian audience in 2006, BBN has become one of the country’s most influential cultural exports, shaping slang, style, and Saturday night Twitter (X) battles.
But somewhere along the way, the producers decided that fights and explosive arguments made for good TV, and this choice has turned the show into a stage where toxicity is not only tolerated but often rewarded.
The trend started with 2018’s Double Wahala season, when Cee-C emerged as a central figure in conflicts, clashing repeatedly with fellow housemates, particularly Alex. Her fiery personality and infamous feud with Alex made her one of the season’s most talked-about contestants. What many dismissed as “pointless catfights” became defining moments of the show. Cee-C’s popularity, despite her frequent outbursts, sent a powerful message: chaos sells. Today she remains one of BBN’s most celebrated alumni, backed by her fiercely loyal fanbase, The Spartans.
It would not be far-fetched to claim that Cee-C’s popularity despite her frequent outbursts on the show served to embolden subsequent housemates in displaying similar behaviour.
Take Tacha, disqualified housemate from 2019’s Pepper Dem season. Known for her militant demeanor and unshakable confidence, she courted controversy throughout her stay in the house, engaging in frequent verbal clashes with fellow contestants. Week after week, she faced possible eviction, but her massive fanbase kept her in the game — until a physical altercation with eventual winner, Mercy Eke, led to her disqualification. Yet, Tacha’s popularity has endured. Her loyal supporters, The Titans, remain one of the strongest fanbases the show has ever produced, and Tacha herself has often maintained that she would have won the season had she not been disqualified.
A similar story played out with Erica Nlewedim from 2020’s Lockdown Edition. Though possessing a significantly less fiery temperament than Cee-C and Tacha, Erica was prone to similar outbursts during her time in the house; she had altercations with Wathoni, Lucy and eventually, launched an especially memorable verbal attack on Laycon which earned her a third strike and her eventual disqualification. Despite this, Erica is widely regarded as the season’s fan favorite, amassing a huge following of loyal fans, “The Elites”, and the fond moniker, “Stargirl”.
2023’s All Star Season saw Cee-C return to our screens, her fiery temperament intact. She might not have had as many clashes as she did in her debut season, but her run-in with the season’s eventual winner, Ilebaye highlighted that the showrunners had grown increasingly lax in their handling of aggressive behaviour from housemates, in favor of drama and increased views. At one point, Cee-C looked straight into the camera, threatened to “beat somebody up” on live television, and declared that she didn’t mind going home as a consequence. Although Ilebaye earned a strike for her conduct in her altercation with Cee-C, the fact that no harsher actions were taken by the showrunners in response to Cee-C’s threats of physical violence spoke volumes.
The showrunners’ tolerance for toxicity doesn’t merely affect the housemates trapped in the camera-filled arena, it also reflects something unsettling about what Nigerians now consider prime-time entertainment.
This year’s Season 10 may be the clearest example yet of BBN’s addiction to chaos. Rooboy, one of the season’s most visible contestants, has made a sport out of provoking housemate Imisi, insulting her, threatening her, daring her to snap. Instead of being reprimanded or disciplined, he has been celebrated by fellow housemates and viewers alike. When his name came up for eviction, social media rallied against his possible eviction, to keep him in — because apparently chaos equals entertainment, and there are only a few housemates more chaotic than Rooboy. He was saved, rewarded even, going on to snag the Head of House title in Week 5.
Meanwhile, Sultana took things to another level when she urinated in Dede’s suitcase — an act several viewers have criticized as the most alarming behaviour displayed by any housemate in the show’s 19 years of running. The response? Laughter, excuses about drunkenness, and silence from Big Brother.
Faith too made his mark, snatching a pot of food from Imisi’s hands and almost flinging it at her face. At her wit’s end, Imisi broke down in the diary room, pleading with Big Brother for intervention. None came. The rest of the house looked on and laughed, as if harassment were slapstick.
Outrageous as these interactions may seem, they aren’t an anomaly. BBNaija has a history of looking the other way when bullying becomes too loud, too obvious to ignore. Take Ilebaye Odiniya during the All Stars season in 2023. She was mocked, isolated, and belittled for weeks, and Big Brother hardly intervened. That neglect turned her into an underdog, and Nigerians, ever eager for a redemption arc, rallied around her until she won the entire season. Her victory was proof that audiences can celebrate vulnerability and authenticity, but it was also an indictment on the producers, who allowed the bullying to play out for far too long because it generated the kind of drama that trends.
It’s not that Nigerians don’t notice the toxicity. A 2021 study found that while most viewers admitted discomfort with the show’s immoral elements, they still tuned in every week because the conflict, the evictions, the mess, were simply too addictive to ignore. On Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok, the same aggressive contestants who threaten fights or cross moral lines are branded “the real entertainers.” Their bad behavior becomes a goldmine for memes, soundbites, and hashtags. Producers know this, and instead of enforcing the much-hyped “three-strike rule,” they lean into the chaos, not minding that this inconsistent application of the rule — where whispering attracts a strike, but peeing in a housemate’s suitcase somehow doesn’t — erodes the show’s credibility. As far as they are concerned, virality trumps accountability.
Viewers may receive their daily dose of entertainment from the showrunner’s refusal to correct harmful behaviour, but beyond laughs and social media posts, the cost of this toxicity is real.
Housemates like Imisi carry the weight of unchecked harassment, while contestants like Ilebaye leave the show with lingering emotional bruises. Every time Big Brother shrugs at bullying, it chips away at the show’s own credibility as a competition. It also chips away at us, the audience, because it normalizes the idea that cruelty is not just acceptable, but desirable, if it makes for good television. The show sends a clear message: if your outbursts can trend, you’re safe. If your humiliation can be turned into “content,” your discomfort doesn’t matter.
And yet, the show doesn’t have to operate this way. Viewers have already shown they can get behind underdogs, and that honesty and resilience can stand up to intimidation — Ilebaye’s win proved that. What’s really missing is consistent rule enforcement from the producers, along with some protection for housemates in their most vulnerable moments. The show could lean more on the kinds of drama that have always kept audiences hooked: strategy, wit, creativity, shifting alliances, betrayals that stop short of abuse, and of course, the age-old Nigerian catnip — romance.
Big Brother Naija is too culturally influential to keep relying on this kind of toxicity to retain viewership. Right now, when the showrunners stay quiet and by implication, encourage aggression, it doesn’t come across as neutral — it feels like complicity. The real question is whether the franchise wants to keep chasing short-term chaos for ratings, or build a version of the show that entertains without dehumanizing, excites without leaving scars, and highlights character over cruelty. Because if BBNaija keeps packaging violence as entertainment, the cost won’t just fall on the housemates — it will also shape the millions of viewers who watch, laugh, and slowly start to see toxicity as normal.