Apparently, I am a feminist killjoy—a term coined by Sara Ahmed to describe those who, amongst other things, refuse to participate in or accept positions that perpetuate inequality and injustice, particularly those related to gender and power.
I don’t believe in the special seats for women bill (the SSW Bill). If it becomes law, it will not reform our political economy nor improve the lives of the majority of Nigerians. The campaign has been impressive, reminiscent of the well-oiled Not Too Young to Run campaign of 2016-18, but no… Just like lowering the age eligibility requirement to contest did not transform political culture, this won’t either.
This is what worries me.
We are in a time of deep troubles. Decades of capitalism and neoliberalism have stripped societies of needed investment in what matters most (health, education, and functioning public goods and services), and corporate greed and insatiable desire for continuous growth and profit are destroying earth. Genocides, war mongering, and identity superiority are on the rise. Bullying in the game of aid and trade is blatant, as evidenced by the recent visit of five presidents of African countries to the White House. In Nigeria, add insecurity, inflation, floods, erosion, and decaying public services to the mix. Yet there are immense opportunities to do better collectively that we lose because we are so focused on the status quo; we have limited political and social imagination.
If a house is burning, do we put out the fire or struggle to get in before it turns to ash? The National Assembly, indeed the three arms of government in Nigeria, does not inspire confidence that we have the leadership required not only to weather through but also to reimagine the future for the benefit of the majority. All around there is pain, suffering, and unhappiness except for those in power and the power adjacent.
Another concern is the dissonance between what we know and what we are hearing and saying. Here is what we are hearing about the importance of the bill: it will address historic inequality in women’s political representation within the legislature. Fair enough. There are currently 13 states with 100 percent male legislators in the state assemblies: Bauchi, Borno, Gombe, Imo, Jigawa, Kano, Katsina, Kebbi, Abia, Osun, Sokoto, Yobe, and Zamfara. There are some states that have never, not since 1960, elected a woman to any position. The challenges are rooted in tradition and religion, and advocates want to rely on affirmative action to overcome these hurdles that keep the political representation of women in Nigeria at one of the lowest in the world—barely three percent in the National Assembly and five percent of 988 state assembly seats.
Advocates say that enough female legislators will result in better lawmaking that will benefit women and children directly and society at large. When we raise doubts based on what we know about the historically weak engagement of elected or appointed female legislators, deputy governors, or ministers on sexual harassment (63 percent of female students have suffered harassment), we are told quite persuasively to ‘free women in political leadership from any expectations that their experiences as women will lead to better anything.’
The argument being, there is a way to be in politics and power, and men and women will behave the same way and make similar decisions in order to succeed. Samia Suluhu Hassan of Tanzania has shown she can be as vicious as any East African dictator. Closer to home, our first ladies—with no formal office—also wield power brutally, as Aisha Buhari did with those who pointed out how engorged she became during General Buhari’s tenure. It looks like the SSW Bill is really, to adapt Michela Wrong’s title, about it being time for women to eat. And yes, ‘not all women…’
Which leads to a third concern: what you ask the tailor for is often not what you get. If the bill passes, in one fell swoop, women will make up 13 percent of NASS. Far from the 35 percent recommended, but compared to current levels of representation, an achievement. The recommendation for 35 percent is based on Kanter and Dahlerup’s Critical Mass Theory that a specific proportion of women, i.e., 30-35 percent, is needed to move beyond token representation and create a more impactful presence.
Based on this theory, women will still be a token and unlikely to be impactful in the legislature, and that is before we factor in that these women will be subject to the same corrupt political processes (primaries and elections) that currently determine Nigeria’s political governance. The height of women’s political representation in the National Assembly was 2007–2011, when we had 9 female senators (Joy Emodi’s election was later annulled) and 27 female house members. Of the 9 senators, 4 were related to existing politicians—as wives and daughters. There was a less obvious pattern in the House, but it was there too. What is the probability that these seats will go to women who will uphold the status quo as fiercely as men do?
The timing of the campaign is suspect—especially the zeal with which it is being championed by NASS officers. Is this show of support to distract from the sexual harassment allegations made by Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan against Senator Akpabio? One of the attacks against Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan has been on the basis that her allegations would make it harder for women to get into politics. How much harder can it be? We know NASS took her allegation seriously, judging by the ferocity with which Akpoti-Uduaghan has been fought since the allegation became public, but they have not treated the allegation with any understanding or acceptance that millions of women face degrading choices in pursuit of economic well-being or plain human aspirations.
I sympathise with advocates and colleagues who, exasperated by years of engagement on women’s political representation, say in defence, ‘We have to play the game as it is, not the game that we want.’ Unsaid is, ‘never mind if the wins are performative or non-reforming.’ ‘No matter if we let despots buff their designs by temporarily performing for women.’ The same men who have underfunded ministries of women’s affairs and ignored dismal maternal death rates suddenly care; they desire women they will select to make up 13 percent of the National Assembly.
I am not sold. What we are up against in Nigeria is systemic, and nothing short of uprooting that system will make a difference.
