Does Nigeria’s Senate President Hate Women?

The Nigerian Senate chambers witnessed a tense moment on February 21, 2025, when Senate President Godswill Akpabio ordered Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan of Kogi Central to leave during a plenary session. The incident stemmed from a seating arrangement modification—a power granted to the Senate President under Section 2(2) of the Senate Standing Orders 2023 and Section 11(3) of the Constitution, typically exercised during political realignments or party defections.

When Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan attempted to contribute while refusing to occupy her newly assigned seat, she was deemed in violation of Senate protocol. While such an isolated incident might have been overlooked, the pattern of similar confrontations suggests a calculated political scheme rather than a mere procedural dispute. The narrative being peddled is that her outrage stemmed from something as trivial as a seating arrangement. However, the way it was handled reveals a deeper complexity than a mere seating arrangement dispute. 

Most media platforms latched onto her words—“I am not afraid of you”—framing it as though she was merely challenging Akpabio. But the full story lies beyond that statement. Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan made it clear that Akpabio had systematically silenced her since the nightclub incident, preventing her from taking the second reading of her bills. She accused him of discrimination and dehumanization—serious claims that were conveniently ignored. Instead of investigating the root of her frustration, fellow senators rushed to pacify her, with some even urging her to apologize.

Even a child could sense that something deeper was at play. There’s an unspoken history here, and Akpabio is wielding his national influence—the questionable prestige of being the country’s “third citizen,” to oppress her. Why else would he go as far as cutting off her microphone, calling on the sergeant-at-arms to remove her, and even threatening her with immediate suspension?

This is not the first time Senator Akpabio has tried to silence a female colleague. In July 2024, he clashed with FCT Senator Ireti Kingibe after she criticized FCT Minister Nyesom Wike. Senator Kingibe had raised concerns about being systematically excluded from key discussions on the Federal Capital Territory, despite holding its highest elected office. During a plenary session, she sought to address the issue, stressing her constitutional role in FCT affairs, particularly budget deliberations. However, Akpabio swiftly cut her off, deferring the matter to the following day—a move that came across as both dismissive and lacking urgency. The tension escalated further when he later appeared on television, openly disparaging Senator Kingibe, underscoring the growing rift between the Senate leadership and the FCT representative.

Both incidents with Akpoti-Uduaghan and Kingibe paint a troubling picture: women in the Nigerian Senate are actively silenced.

Akpabio’s pattern of behavior extends beyond the Senate. His political career has been fraught with controversy, particularly in his treatment of female colleagues. An incident occurred in 2020 during his tenure as Minister of Niger Delta Affairs, when Joy Nunieh, then Managing Director of the Niger Delta Development Commission (NDDC), accused him of sexual harassment and financial misconduct. Akpabio attempted to discredit her by questioning her mental stability and temperament, even suggesting she undergo a medical evaluation. Though he vehemently denied all accusations, Nunieh was dismissed, while Akpabio faced no repercussions despite the seriousness of the claims and the public nature of the dispute.

This incident mirrors his more recent interactions with female senators—whenever women in positions of power challenge him, his first response is to undermine, discredit, or silence them.

The nightclub incident that Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan referenced happened during a plenary session last year when she attempted to contribute. Akpabio interjected with a pointed comment, stating she needed recognition before speaking, “as this is not a nightclub.” Though he later issued an apology, claiming he would “never deliberately denigrate a woman,” the incident remains a reference point for broader concerns about his treatment of female colleagues.

His public apology starkly contrasts his continued pattern of hostility towards women in the Senate chambers. If his words were sincere, why has he repeatedly dismissed and silenced female senators? His actions suggest that his apology was nothing more than political theater.

The gender dynamics in Nigeria’s political sphere reflect a deeply entrenched systemic issue. In the current Senate, only four women hold seats among 109 senators. More troubling still is that those who dare to speak up—like Senators Akpoti-Uduaghan and Kingibe—face systematic intimidation and marginalization, their voices either dismissed or outrightly silenced.

This power imbalance isn’t unique to the Senate; it permeates every layer of Nigerian society, from National Youth Service Corps camps to student elections. While the global community moves toward gender parity in 2025, Nigeria’s legislative leadership seems intent on reinforcing outdated gender hierarchies.

The narrative that a woman’s place is primarily in the domestic sphere—focused on marriage and childbearing—strongly opposes modern democratic principles. Perhaps most concerning is the double standard: while women must constantly prove their competence and worth in public service, their male counterparts are often granted authority simply by their presence. This disparity not only undermines democratic representation but also squanders the nation’s potential by sidelining capable leaders based solely on gender.

Senate President Godswill Akpabio’s repeated clashes with female politicians are not isolated events but part of a larger systemic issue. His pattern of undermining and silencing women in leadership positions reflects the broader misogyny ingrained in Nigeria’s political structure.

If Nigerian democracy is to progress, the voices of women in leadership must not only be heard but also respected. The treatment of Senators Akpoti-Uduaghan, Kingibe, and past figures like Joy Nunieh serves as a reminder that political power in Nigeria is still largely a man’s game—one where women are tolerated, but only if they remain silent. But as history has shown, silence is never a lasting conclusion.