Feminism

By Muḥammad San

I have read the PhD thesis of the Emir of Kano, and just like in his Gamji days, Sanusi Lamido Sanusi (now Muhammadu Sanusi II) remains forthright in expression and uncompromising in his quest to balance Shari’a.

Some may dismiss contributions like mine as disturbing or argue that we are too little academically to weigh in on the Shari’a debate. But this is a debate that dominated Nigeria at the turn of the millennium, and Sanusi himself was at its centre. Having read his papers, watched his TED talk, and reviewed the recent compendium of his essays, I can say I have at least a fair understanding of his intellectual outlook.

Sanusi has always been controversial. His now-famous remark that a wife should slap back or retaliate against an abusive husband is a good example. That boldness, perhaps, was the same energy that pushed him to the University of London to produce a doctoral thesis on Islamic family law, using Morocco and Kano as his comparative space.

The Emir is an ardent advocate of girl-child education, but this passion seems to have narrowed his focus, leaving him blind to the ordeals of men under the same system. While women’s marginalisation has been widely documented, men, too, are now facing a new wave of vulnerabilities. The cases are there for anyone who cares to look.

The infamous Maryam Sanda case, in which a woman brutally murdered her husband, remains etched in public memory, yet the debate around it was clouded by sympathy. In 2021, a young wife in Kano was convicted of poisoning her husband after repeated disputes. In 2022, another woman fatally stabbed her husband during a quarrel over financial neglect. These are not isolated events. They highlight the rise of what can be called “feminine defence,” but they also expose the growing fragility of men trapped in broken family systems.

Sanusi himself points to Morocco as a model. “What did they do in Morocco? They built schools and invested in transportation so that girls could be moved from villages to the nearest schools. They also invested in school feeding and provided financial support to the poorest families ready to send their sons and daughters to schools,” he said in an interview with Time Africa Magazine. Yet the contrast is sharp. In Kano, the state government spends millions on lavish emirate ceremonies, while journalists like Dan Bello continue to expose the dire state of public schools in the very heart of the metropolis.

To be fair, Sanusi’s thesis tackled the historical marginalisation of women in Islamic family law with rigour and depth. But in amplifying women’s rights, it failed to defend men or acknowledge their growing vulnerabilities in a rapidly changing society. By leaning heavily on the Moroccan Moudawana, itself a product of feminist activism, the work framed men only as a dominant class to be restrained. Missing were the struggles many men face: unemployment, the crushing demands of polygamy, and the relentless pressure to perform as patriarchs without resources.

This omission is striking. In Kano today, the rise of wives killing their husbands is not just a crime. It is a signal of imbalance in the family system, a warning that reform is incomplete. Without addressing male fragility alongside female empowerment, Shari’a reform risks becoming a zero-sum game. Sanusi’s thesis suggests that empowering women alone can resolve family crises. But true reform, as Shari’a itself demands, must be a balanced restructuring that preserves the dignity and well-being of both men and women.

Muḥammad Sani is a freelance and public policy writer from Zaria. Can be reached via muhdusman1999@gmail.com.

By Sa’adatu Aliyu 

Nigeria’s legislative chamber is an embarrassment, with lawmakers handling important matters like a bunch of drunks in a bar. These are the individuals determining our fate, appearing anything but serious. Watching them feels like being strapped to a chair and forced to watch a tedious comedy. It’s a complete nightmare.

Moreover, seeing Senator Natasha walking out of the Senate was disturbing, highlighting the reality of injustice and the flawed Nigerian system that perpetuates sexism and denies women their freedom. The penalty imposed on her is nothing more than a testament to bullying.

As men dominate the floor, as they do in other male-dominated spheres, true justice appears elusive. Most of these men, who see sexism as a normal part of women’s lives, felt it appropriate to gang up against Senator Natasha. This mindset is all too prevalent among African men, who often excel at trivializing sexism. In simple terms, this is a case of toxic patriarchy reinforced—something many women have been tirelessly fighting against for years.

As a literature student who has studied the origins of feminist movements, I’m aware of the struggles women face. However, this issue goes beyond feminism; it’s about truth.

With that in mind, we all know the incident began after Senator Natasha made several claims about being sidelined by the Senate President. She was constantly ignored whenever she attempted to raise a motion concerning the development of Ajakota steel mines. Behind the Senate President’s actions, however, was a backstory. Months ago, a nightclub comment sparked widespread condemnation. After enduring so much, Senator Natasha eventually erupted, leading to the escalation of the issue and further allegedly accusing the President of a history of sexual harassment.

On Natasha’s Outfit 

The Lafaya, as it is referred to in northern Nigeria, is primarily worn by Muslim women and is considered quite decent attire, often worn at traditional events like wedding ceremonies by brides and occasionally during horse-riding festivals. It’s important to remember that Natasha is a Christian woman who has chosen to wear an outfit that not only fits her well but is also attractive and appropriately modest. Yet, the Senate President claims that her chosen fashion is transparent and offensive to his view.

If this is true, how could Natasha make it through the Senate gates if her attire was indeed so exposing and provocative? I believe the Senate has a dress code, and if her Excellency was violating it, she wouldn’t have been allowed to pass through the Senate gate.

But because, clearly, there’s nothing inappropriate about her way of dressing—which is quite respectable for a Christian woman, by the way—it renders the Senate President’s claims unfounded and disrespectful. Instead of focusing on significant issues, he gets distracted by a Senator’s wardrobe choices. It’s ridiculous.

Women as Enablers of Toxic Patriarchal Abuse

Women, particularly those from our mothers’ generation, especially African women, have been indoctrinated into a dangerous culture of acceptance that enables them to tolerate the excesses of men in society and even defend them. This includes women who attempt to justify a man’s sexual misconduct or other behavioral missteps. As a result, a daughter trapped in a bad marriage, where she is a victim of domestic violence, is often advised to endure her situation.

A daughter who’s a rape victim is not just blamed but is asked to never speak of the issue. She is the victim yet bears the shame. “It’s a wrong committed by men. There’s nothing we can do.” That’s what young girls have been taught. And because of this, many women have to live with abusive men, continuing to endure abuse on many fronts because suffering is equated with righteousness. For these women, silence is bravery, and speech is cowardly.

Moreover, among other things, those women who come out to dismiss the allegations leveled against the Senate President unapologetically belong to this school. Another likely reason to smear Natasha’s claims as false and unfounded is the threat she poses to them – women who may be envious of her based on her physical appearance and youthful beauty.

Women are known to size each other up and hold grudges against those they believe possess qualities they lack, and one thing the senator has is beauty. Just based on that, the other women may feel threatened. Therefore, supporting her is out of the question. Yet, this does not surprise me—the silence of the women who were supposed to stand with her; women are often seen as their own worst enemies.

However, while her suspension might appear as a defeat, I commend Senator Natasha for her stoic bravery and refusal to be silenced in the face of injustice. Regardless of the outcome of this case, she has triumphed because she spoke up. Natasha has refused to be that meek daughter, that “good daughter.” She has defied expectations and rejects being labeled as “Mama endurance” in the face of harassment.

And while some women may be saying, “She should have just kept quiet; look where this has landed her,” I want to tell them that it’s better to be in this position, knowing you advocated for yourself and can walk away, than to remain silent in an environment that continues to torment you.

It’s daughters like these that we want to raise – daughters who can look into the eye of injustice and say no, not again. Natasha spoke truth to authority; she fought back. And people may see her action as inappropriate, but we forget that her outburst is as a result of accumulated frustration. She’s the true daughter of “Ane Ebira,” who refused to go mum.

As a member of the same tribe as Her Excellency, Senator Akpoti, I can confidently say that the Ebira people are renowned for their bravery and steadfast fearlessness when faced with provocation. It is not our nature to instigate conflict, but we are never hesitant to confront challenges if it means defending ourselves. We are recognized for standing up for our truth. You cannot bully an Ebira man or woman without them pushing back. “I’m not afraid of you” stems from a legacy of fearless ancestors who never backed down from a fight.

Sa’adatu Aliyu works at DLC Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. She can be contacted at saadatualiyu36@gmail.com. 

By Isah Dahiru

The recent interview with popular Kannywood actress Nafisa Abdullahi has ignited a heated debate across the social landscape of northern Nigeria, capturing the attention of various commentators, particularly on social media. In her comments, Nafisa made a bold assertion, claiming she is in complete control of her body and mind, and no external pressure will sway her from dressing or presenting herself as she chooses. While many regard Nafisa as a rising icon in the realm of feminism, others view her stance as a challenge to societal norms, often overlooking moral values and even biological realities that define the differences between men and women.

However, I firmly believe that Nafisa and those who share her views are fundamentally misguided. Our bodies are not commodities to be paraded for public admiration. We are not here merely to fulfil some visual pleasure or as adornments for others’ gaze. Instead, we are human beings endowed with dignity and deserving of respect. As the saying goes, “Modesty is the garment of wisdom,” and our attire should reflect the strength of our character, not just the shapes of our bodies.

Some may view Nafisa’s perspective as a rallying cry for women’s rights, but we must question: at what cost? Feminism, when reduced to a struggle for the right to dress indecently or act without moral constraints, becomes an empty movement. True feminism should not undermine the fundamental principles of respect, but rather empower women to pursue their dreams, shape their futures, and contribute meaningfully to society. Yet, today, far too many feminists have turned their movement into a celebration of physicality and superficiality, often at the expense of deeper issues that affect women—such as access to education, healthcare, and opportunities for economic advancement.

“Not all that glitters is gold,” and the so-called “empowerment” that comes from making oneself a spectacle for public approval is fleeting at best. Our communities need leaders who inspire change through actions that address real problems, not through empty displays of vanity. Nafisa and her supporters must realise that feminism was never about endorsing self-destructive behaviours but advancing equality and opportunity for women, especially in the most critical areas—health, education, and justice.

Moreover, the widespread glorification of such behaviours leads to a dangerous distortion of the feminist narrative. In the pursuit of gender equality, many have lost sight of the core values that have guided humanity for centuries. As the Yoruba proverb says, “A child whose mother does not discipline will be disciplined by the world.” While Nafisa may feel empowered by her choices, she must ask herself whether these choices empower women or diminish their potential. Are they fostering respect, or are they merely setting up an unrealistic, unsustainable standard that undermines the integrity of the feminist movement?

The case of Nafisa is also emblematic of a broader issue in modern-day feminism: the movement has become entangled with other societal problems, including the normalisation of self-objectification. This is particularly damaging in northern Nigeria, where the pressures of social norms and expectations are often at odds with personal freedoms. It is one thing to advocate for women’s rights but another to ignore the vital cultural and moral fabric that holds communities together. The old adage, “When you are in Rome, do as the Romans do,” speaks to the importance of understanding context and respecting traditions that shape our societies.

Furthermore, it is essential to note that the modern feminist movement has, in many ways, become an outlet for personal grievances—whether stemming from personal insecurity or trauma. In some cases, it’s a response to physical abuse, neglect, or toxic home environments. Unfortunately, this mindset often distorts the movement into focusing on external appearance and aggressive defiance rather than internal healing and social harmony. Feminists like Nafisa who endorse such ideologies must ask themselves: Are we fighting for the right to make healthy, empowered choices, or are we simply reacting to our wounds?

“Empty vessels make the most noise,” the proverb warns. Feminism, when misdirected, can become just that: an empty echo of ideals without true substance or lasting impact. Instead of dwelling on appearances, activists should channel their energy into solving tangible issues affecting women daily. Why not focus on creating innovative solutions for women in business, technology, or healthcare? Why not work toward making pregnancy and childbirth safer for women in rural areas? Let’s think about addressing the millions of girls who are denied an education or the thousands of children living on the streets of cities like Jos and Kano. These are the real battles feminists should be fighting.

The world has always advanced through the cooperation of men and women, and both genders have vital roles to play in society’s development. Nafisa and her followers should consider taking a more constructive approach. Instead of focusing on outward appearances and ideological battles, they could use their platforms to bring about meaningful change. 

Let Nafisa invest her energy into projects to help women access technology, provide better healthcare, or champion the cause of good governance. As the saying goes, “A man with a good wife is like a man with a treasure chest”. True success comes not from looking beautiful for the world but from making contributions that endure long after physical beauty has faded.

Time waits for no one. The years spent in idle pursuits are years lost. Like all of us, Nafisa is in her prime, and it is her responsibility to use this time wisely. Rather than spending it on fleeting concerns like hair and makeup, let her invest in causes that uplift women and contribute to the collective well-being of society. Her legacy can be more than just a pretty face—it can be one of deep, transformative impact. “He who does not cultivate his own field, let him not expect to reap the harvest.”

The choice is hers—will she become a true role model, not just for how she dresses, but for the change she brings to the world?

By focusing on true empowerment and social progress, Nafisa can transcend the superficiality of celebrity culture and contribute to a more meaningful, lasting legacy for herself and the women who look up to her.

Isah Dahiru is a pharmacist who wrote via easerdahiru@gmail.com.

By Rabi Ummi Umar

Recently, I found myself in the heart of Abuja—a bustling city surrounded by the everyday hustle and bustle of urban life. The streets were alive with activities—commercial drivers calling out for passengers, pedestrians hurrying to their destinations, and the overall pace of the city reflecting the urgency of modern life.

Though an intern, I was there with some female staff writers of Economic Confidential, a tabloid published by Image Merchants Promotion (IMPR) Limited. This, however, was not for leisure or sightseeing but for an official assignment—to shoot an episode of ‘Economy on the Streets’ for the Economic Confidential’s YouTube channel. Yet, what caught my attention was something that went beyond the task at hand, revealing a deeper issue about women’s involvement in public discourse.

As a budding communicator, this ‘field trip’ was more than just an opportunity to write news stories, features, or opinion pieces. It was a chance to extend my skills beyond the written word, to engage directly with the public through a street interview—what we call a vox pop—to gauge Nigerians’ thoughts on the contentious issue of the reintroduction of fuel subsidies.

It was also a chance to experience the realities of journalism beyond the confines of a newsroom. To my surprise, I noticed that most of the respondents were men. Conversely, women seemed reluctant to lend their voices or share their opinions on the matter.

At first, I rationalised that perhaps the women were in a hurry, given that it was a weekday. I thought they might not have a few minutes to discuss Nigeria’s pressing economic challenges as more important tasks were awaiting them.

However, as the seconds, minutes, and hours ticked by and the number of women who declined to participate grew, it became clear that they did not want to discuss our nation’s challenges.

This realisation took me back to last year when I was on my Student Industrial Work Experience Scheme (SIWES) with News Digest, an online media platform. I was invited as a guest on WE FM (106.3), a radio station in Abuja, to discuss “Women Participation in Politics.”

During that discussion, I argued passionately that there were insufficient opportunities for women to engage in politics, and I stood firmly by my belief. Yet, a year later, my experience during the street interviews has led me to question this stance. The opportunities, it seems, are indeed out there.

On the streets, even though these women were not holding political office themselves, they had the chance to contribute to public discourse. Yet, they chose not to. This realisation troubles me because it raises questions about women’s participation in public life—whether in political offices or the organised private sector.

We frequently hear discussions about gender equality, inclusivity, roles, and the presence of women in positions of power. However, when we look deeper, we might find that men are not the primary reason women like myself remain on the periphery of public discourse or power.

As women, we may contribute to our marginalisation by refusing to seize opportunities, even when they are right before us. This brings me to a few questions we should all consider: Are women not given opportunities because men seek to dominate?

Are women holding themselves back because society expects them to remain confined to domestic roles? Are we, as women, making efforts to break free from these constraints? Or are we simply holding ourselves back?

While I leave these questions for you to ponder, I want to call on women to recognise that opportunities exist to showcase our capabilities, our capacity to deliver, and much more. We should strive to reach our goals based on what we have to offer.

But we must start somewhere, even if it’s as simple as participating in a street interview. Your voice is vital to society’s prosperity. No matter how insignificant you may think your contribution is, your participation in various aspects of society, community, and the nation at large matters more than you realise. Your voice truly matters.

Rabi Ummi Umar is a student of Al-Hikmah University, Ilorin. She can be reached at rabiumar058@gmail.com.

By Abdullahi Yusuf Tela

Introduction 

In many societies, women are constantly reminded of their roles as wives and mothers. They are saddled with the responsibilities of producing and nurturing children and caring for the home. Over the years, however, women have embarked on a struggle aimed at affirming their identities while at the same time doing all they can to transform the societal, cultural, or traditional perceptions of their gender. Women are striving very hard to change these perceptions through education and by creating awareness.

Female writers have significantly helped by making the female characters in their works more prominent. They aim to have female characters that are powerful and outspoken. This is because women in most male writings are often illustrated as subservient. 

In 1966, Flora Nwapa broke the silence of women by publishing her first novel, Efuru, inspiring other female writers. These women used literature to explain the state of their societies, either good or bad, and the importance of female existence in society. These feminist writers include Zaynab Alkali, Buchi Emecheta, Mobolaji Adenubi, and Hilary Rouse-Amadi.

Notably, Azizah, like other female writers, has been able to outline the following feminist angles in her book, A Sackful of Wishes.   

Cultural Feminism:

Cultural feminism celebrates human attributes in women. It focuses on the feminist virtues by celebrating the positive sides of women. In A Sackful of Wishes of Azizah Idris M., Inna Binta, Hadiza’s mother, is a character who portrays aspects of cultural feminism. Inna Binta is a calm, reserved woman who faces a lot of tragedies as a new bride to Mallam Musa. She is hated and manipulated by her co-wife, Mairo Lauje. Inna Binta’s character shows a woman with patience despite the confrontations she faced from Mama Mairo. Cultural feminism believes that there is strength in a woman’s silence. They see the strength in women in the face of oppression. 

Hadiza’s mother, Inna Binta, could endure hardship from her co-wife or return to her parents. Binta remains strong even when Mairo Lauje makes her evil plot to charm her into never staying in Mal Musa’s house. 

Despite all the plots, Binta says, “It’s okay, I can do that . . .as long as she lets me stay with you. You are worth it.”

It is evident from the above quote that Binta, as being put in the cultural feminism, wanted peace for herself, her husband, and her children; that was why she heeded Mama Mairo’s deal. At this point, the cultural feminists view the mother’s strength as crucial. “Mothers have to be strong to take on both roles, loving, protecting, and counselling in turns” (Ngcobo 536).

Marxist feminism: 

The Marxist feminist approach propounded by Karl Marx is embedded in this work. The author portrays Hadiza Musa as someone who earnestly wants to earn for herself and feed her children. When she faces hunger, starvation and poverty, Hadiza immediately engages in a skilled job to take care of her children. She was into plaiting people’s hair and got an immense reward in cash. Hadiza becomes her own woman, independently sourcing and feeding herself and her children. 

It should be noted that Marxist feminists connect the oppression of women to social exploitation and oppression. A Sackful of Wishes by Azizah Idris M. majorly portrays an oppression of the female gender. According to Sotunsa, Marxist feminists believe that male domination is one of the societal ills, and gender oppression must be overcome to overcome societal ills. Hadiza resists the dominance of her husband, AR, whom society believes she needs to bow to. In the text, Hadiza says:  

“I want to start a business.” 

“I don’t have enough money, but I have skill in weaving hair. So, I’m going to start making people’s hair, I want your permission.” (129)

When her husband, AZ, decides to stop her, Hadiza says:

You can’t stop me, you know. You don’t feed me, nor clothe me, you don’t know how I buy my detergent or my body cream or provide the needs of Maahir. You just go out and come home. Some nights, you would try to come near me. Why do you think I got the money for those perfumes and creams that make me feel smooth and appealing to you? You either man up and hold on to your responsibilities or you let me start a business. (129)    

Fortunately for Hadiza, she wins the battle to make people’s hair after Umma Sala, Abdurrazak’s mother, intervenes.   

In portraying her bizarre situation, Hadiza was quoted as thus: 

I resorted to selling two of my wrappers from Mahir’s naming gifts to buy some foodstuffs since I was so heavy, I could not plait my customers’ hair at this stage. I found it difficult to sit for long. They did not sell for much. I saved some of the cash because I knew my situation, and I could need it anytime. I bought some spaghetti and vegetables. My sisters came to check on me the next day. We ate and chatted, and I even gave them some transport fare. Nobody would think things were amiss in my house. (141) 

Another portrayal of Marxist feminism in the text is in the character of Umma Sala, Abdurrazak’s mother. Umma is the boss of the house because her husband, Abdurrazak’s father, is not earning much, and she’s making money with her food business. 

As it turns out, Umma took over control of the house. With her business as a food vendor and other small businesses, whenever she did something in the house, she billed it to Baffa. Whether he had it or not, he would pay when he got some money. 

Radical Feminism: 

A Sackful of Wishes by Azizah Idris M. portrays richly a form of radical feminist approach. Radical feminists view society fundamentally as a patriarchy in which men dominate and oppress women. According to Shulamith Firestone, radical feminists seek to abolish the patriarchy in a struggle to liberate women and girls from an unjust society by challenging existing social norms and institutions. This struggle includes opposing the sexual objectification of women, raising public awareness about such issues as rape and violence against women. 

The central character, Hadiza Musa, exhibits a taste of radical feminism as a woman who mysteriously falls in love with a man so obsessed with her that Hadiza rebels against her husband’s oppressive behaviours. The radical feminism inked in the work portrays Hadiza as a woman who stays firmly and fights against starvation, rape, humiliation, and disrespect from her husband and, subsequently, his. Hadiza Musa rebels to the extent that she leaves her husband’s house several times out of her mother’s frustration and anger. 

Hadiza states that: 

I was fed up with my life. I was just twenty-five years old, but I had seen the difficulties of a sixty-year-old’s lifetime. I did not put on fancy clothes, nor did make-up appeal to me. I had forgotten how to laugh heartily, my soul was a wreck, my spirit in shambles. I was a walking time bomb waiting to explore. The things I bore in my chest were unimaginable. I had a sackful of wishes that I craved, that I needed to explore but could not do that because I was a coward. There, that’s it. (172)

Her rebellious act makes her stand tall against society, which tends to make her return to her horrible marriage. With the assistance of her brother, Yusuf, Hadiza can take the matter to court. She perseveres despite the intricacies of her husband, Abdurrazak, until she finally gets a favourable judgment dissolving the marriage.  

Conclusion

A Sackful of Wishes is one of the many texts that portray the difficulties, hardships, pain, angst, and oppression women experience in their marriages. It is one of the works that uses a feminist approach to fight for women’s freedom and free them from society’s shackles. 

Thus, it is evident from the text that there still exists a repressive and hostile environment against women. The text shows how young Hadiza faces and traverses through oppression and pain from her psychopath husband and his mother. 

Abdullahi Yusuf Tela wrote via abdullahiyusuftela@yahoo.com.

• Title: Nearly All The Men in Lagos Are Mad

• Author: Damilare Kuku

• Genre: Fiction

• Date of Publication: 2021

• Page: 198
• Publisher: Masobe Books

• Reviewer: Aliyu Idris

It is the author’s debut. It entails twelve short stories narrated in cooperative narration; almost every story revolves around a subject regarding the woman or feminine gender.

From the book title, you may sense that it’s questionable, derogatory and disrespectful to men. However, the book exposes the sufferings of women and how the men of Lagos behave, especially towards women. It involves the story of sacrifice, endurance, rape, patriarchy and phallocentric, deceit and betrayal. Women are presented as saints. But, as it happens in reality, some characters found in some stories are the reason for their suffering.

Another crucial issue highlighted and promoted in the book is the concept of feminism. Just like contemporary feminists, I am not flabbergasted to find out that one of the author’s inspirations to produce the book is a feminist (Ngozi Chimamanda Adichie).

Almost every female writer who writes in any genre of literature promotes feminism right from the 19th and 20th-century feminists such as Virginia Woolf, Simone de Beauvoir, and Kate Millet down to the present-day feminists.

Because contemporary feminist writers do not stick to one feminist ideology but many subcategories. For instance, every story in the book has a different class of feminist ideology. For example, the first story titled “Cuck-Up” uses Amazon feminism to potray how defiant women are despite appearing weak and passive.

The last story in the book, “Independence Day,”  uses cultural feminism, showing women’s kindness and gentility.

Eco-feminism in the story “Anointed Wife” emphasises that patriarchial societies are detrimental to women.

Charles E Brazzler, in his book Literary Criticism An Introduction to Theory and Practice Fifth Edition, asserts that it’s the view of contemporary feminists that subjugation of women still exists worldwide. Issues such as rape, prostitution, social injustice, early marriages, polygamy etc., the feminist writers continue to add their voices to protest through their pens and papers.

It should be noted that feminism has been broadly international in scope, and many local and general factors dictate its disposition. For example, writers from Arab traditions such as Fatima Mernissi and Leila Ahmed have attempted to articulate a feminist vision distinctly marked by their specific cultural concerns. The same is true of African-American feminists such as Alice Walker and feminists of Asian heritage such as Gayatri Spivak (Habib 2005:669).