...Examining the Court’s Ruling on Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan’s Recall
By Oyinkan Andu
The Federal High Court’s decision to vacate the order restraining INEC from receiving recall petitions against Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan might seem like another legal technicality. But in Nigeria, where democracy often functions like a high-stakes chess game, it’s far more than that.
Yes, the ruling reaffirms the constitutional right of constituents to recall elected officials. But it also raises a pressing question: is this a legitimate expression of voter dissatisfaction or just another political tool wielded to neutralise opponents?
In a political landscape as ruthless as Nigeria’s, recall mechanisms can be easily weaponised. Imagine a system where every ambitious politician, backed by well-oiled interests, could trigger a recall simply to distract, destabilise, or discredit an opponent. That’s not democracy—that’s guerrilla warfare.
The courts, therefore, carry the weighty responsibility of ensuring that recalls serve the people, not political vendettas. While this ruling allows the petition process to proceed, INEC must still verify whether it meets legal standards. The real challenge? Ensuring the recall process remains a tool of accountability, not an instrument of sabotage.
A Battle Beyond the Courts
There’s an unspoken rule in Nigerian politics: women must play by different rules or risk being destroyed. Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan is learning this the hard way.
When she accused Senate President Godswill Akpabio of sexual harassment, the expected reaction should have been outrage, an investigation, something. Instead, she was swiftly suspended for six months—punished for daring to speak out in a system meticulously designed to silence women like her.
The backlash followed a familiar script. Yet, something unprecedented happened: many Nigerians rallied behind her.
For a country where high-profile accusations of sexual misconduct have historically met women with more backlash than justice, this shift was remarkable.
Consider Busola Dakolo’s case against Pastor Biodun Fatoyinbo—the backlash was so severe that she eventually fled the country briefly. The playbook is always the same: discredit, dismiss, destroy.
Yet, despite the growing support Akpoti-Uduaghan has received, scepticism remains.
Some immediately doubted her claims—not just out of political distrust, but because the truth can be too unsettling to confront. What if she’s pulling back the curtain on something too ugly to acknowledge? What if this is just the tip of the iceberg—a world where male politicians have long wielded power with unchecked impunity, protected by silence, complicity, and fear? Or worse still, what if some female politicians, past and present, have been coerced into submission, while others—women who could have reshaped Nigeria’s political landscape for the better—were cast aside and destroyed simply for refusing to play along?
Others dismissed her as yet another ambitious politician playing the game. They scrutinised everything—her privileged background, her past as a single mother, even her audacity to be politically ambitious.
But did they stop to ask: what if she’s telling the truth?
Her allegations don’t exist in a vacuum. Investigative reports from The Guardian and Al Jazeera have hinted at murmurings—and even documented claims—about Akpabio’s conduct. Former aides and political insiders have whispered about inappropriate behavior for years. But like so many before, these allegations were swept under the rug.
The same forces that fuel scepticism today—patriarchy, political self-interest, and distrust of authority—are the ones that have allowed such claims to be ignored in the past.
If history teaches us anything, it’s that impunity thrives in silence. And yet, silence is precisely what is expected of women in Nigerian politics.
Speaking Out Isn’t Just Hard—It’s Dangerous
Calling out powerful men in Nigeria doesn’t just lead to public humiliation—it’s a battle for survival. If Akpoti-Uduaghan is telling the truth, she isn’t just fighting for justice; she’s fighting for her future.
Women across Africa who challenge power rarely escape unscathed:
Fatou Jagne Senghore (Gambia) was persecuted for pushing gender rights.
Stella Nyanzi (Uganda) was jailed for calling out misogyny.
Joyce Banda (former President of Malawi) endured relentless smear campaigns simply for daring to lead.
Nigeria is no different. The system is designed to make women regret speaking up.
Why Is It So Hard to Believe Women?
Scepticism toward Akpoti-Uduaghan follows predictable lines. She’s a politician. In a system riddled with corruption, people assume any claim is a power move.
She’s privileged. Many believe wealth should shield a woman from harassment. In reality, privilege just makes her easier to discredit.
She’s a single mother. Nigerian society weaponises a woman’s personal life. Being unmarried or divorced is treated as a flaw, making her an easy target.
She’s up against a powerful man. This isn’t just any politician—Akpabio is the Senate President. This is a battle between an insider and an inconvenient woman.
In a system that prioritises the status quo, it’s always easier to believe a woman is lying than to confront the reality that a powerful man might be guilty.
A Nigerian #MeToo Moment?
Nigeria has dodged its #MeToo reckoning for years.
In 2017, the U.S. saw powerful men fall as women spoke out. In Nigeria, women who speak up are ridiculed, threatened, or erased.
Now, with Natasha’s case, we stand at a crossroads:
If she is lying, let the evidence prove it.
If she is telling the truth and is destroyed for it, what does that say about us as a society?Let’s us also give her the benefit of the doubt that she may not have planned to reveal this issue if her hand was not forced by the Senate presidents petty actions against her while undergoing her duties.
This isn’t just about Natasha. This is about every Nigerian woman who has been afraid to speak.
It’s why women’s groups chant “We Are All Natasha.” It’s not just a slogan—it’s a demand for change. If a senator can be silenced, what hope do ordinary women have?
Beyond Politics: This Is About Justice
Forget party lines. Forget personal opinions about Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan. This is about justice.
What allegedly happened to her could happen to any woman—any woman who dares to say, “Enough.”
So will Nigeria listen? Or will we continue silencing women until they stop speaking altogether?
A Shifting Demographic Tide—And A Hopeful Future
There’s something the system isn’t ready for: women are becoming the majority.
Demographic studies show that across Africa, female populations are growing faster than male populations due to socio-economic factors. This shift could fundamentally change power dynamics.
A growing female electorate will demand better representation.
As women gain economic power, traditional gender roles will evolve.
A society that values female leadership is more likely to embrace justice, collaboration, and reform.
But change is never welcomed by those who benefit from the status quo. The very trend that could lead to a more equitable Nigeria is already provoking backlash.
The Real Battle: Will Nigeria Listen?
At its core, this is a battle over Nigeria’s future.
Will we continue a culture where speaking up comes at a cost too high to bear? Or will we seize this moment to redefine the standards of justice and power?
The courage of women who speak out must be celebrated, not condemned. Because if a senator, armed with privilege and power, can be silenced—what chance do the millions of silenced women stand?
And so, the question remains: Will Nigeria listen?
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