MzAgams

As International Women’s Day approaches—the time of year when Nigeria’s political class pause to dust off their “women are the backbone of society” speeches while actively sitting on said backbone—it’s only fair we check in on the state of gender equality in our hallowed Senate chambers.

Here’s the update: there are four women senators. Out of 109. Yes, four. Just enough to form a small choir or fill the backseat of an Uber. And if you’re wondering whether these women are seated proudly front and center, think again. They’ve been quietly tucked into the far corners of the chamber, like decorative throw pillows, so as not to distract from the real business of the day: men talking over each other.

After all, the Senate chamber doubles as a retirement home for former governors, deputy governors, and assorted political heavyweights who believe governance works best as a boys-only club with snacks.

And by “boys,” I mean men of a certain age who still find sexist locker-room humor wildly entertaining. Like the senator who thought it was appropriate to say that an older female colleague would “need a jar of Vaseline to have sex.” This was not, as you might expect, met with gasps of horror or a disciplinary hearing. No, it was met with the sort of chuckles you’d expect from men who think calling women “iron pants” is top-shelf comedy.

Enter Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, senator from Kogi, who made the unfortunate mistake of believing the Senate was a workplace instead of an exclusive men’s club with microphones. Natasha did something truly outrageous: she questioned why the Senate President, Godswill Akpabio, was trying to relocate her seat into a literal dark corner of the chamber.

For this crime of not knowing her place, Natasha was promptly referred to the Senate’s Ethics and Privileges Committee and removed from the chamber.

Not one to be quietly shooed into the shadows, Natasha then went on live television, where she accused Akpabio of longstanding victimization and sexual harassment, saying the seating incident was simply the final straw. Apparently, constant harassment from the Senate’s top officer has a way of wearing a person down.

And in a plot twist that should surprise absolutely no one, the female senators—past and present—lined up to denounce her. Because if there’s one thing more predictable than the harassment itself, it’s the public ritual of disowning any woman who dares complain about it.

And the Senate? They suspended Natasha.
For six months.
Officially, it was over the seating disruption. Unofficially? Well. Naughty Boys Club™ rules: When a woman stands up, she must be put back down.

Of course, we’ve seen this movie before. Just ask Joy Nunieh, who famously slapped Akpabio and became a temporary folk hero. Now? I hearsay she’s lost her job, her professional standing, and her mental health. Meanwhile, Akpabio? Still there. Thriving. Promotion unlocked.

And so, as International Women’s Day rolls around, expect the usual festival of speeches praising women’s “resilience” and “contributions.” Expect flowery tweets. Maybe even a cake.

Just don’t ask:
Why female senators are hidden behind pillars and shoved into corners.
Why sexist jokes about Vaseline are acceptable on the chamber floor.
Why women who report harassment are exiled while their harassers are rewarded.
And why, in 2025, the Senate is still operating like a badly aged fraternity house with a national budget.

But hey. Happy International Women’s Day.
Try not to laugh too hard.