In the same month we celebrated the global progress of women, the Nigerian woman took a visceral hit. The harrowing footage from the Ozoro festival in Delta State acted as a grim “return to reality”—a jagged reminder that for the Nigerian woman, freedom is often not an inherent right, but a precarious gift, granted or rescinded based on the whims of the mob.
The Ozoro videos are a stain on our democratic fabric. Watching a sea of men hunt down a woman to grope and violate her in broad daylight is not merely a “cultural nuance”; it is a systemic failure. It signals that we are failing to uphold the basic rights of half our population. If there is no swift, decisive punishment for these perpetrators, the message from the State is unfortunately clear: Nigerian women are not truly free; they are merely on parole.
Before the Ozoro festival, there was conditioning. I see a set of beliefs that gave audacity to some men to think that such behaviour is acceptable. In my study of Psychology, we are introduced to Ivan Pavlov’s classical conditioning—the idea that repeated stimuli can create involuntary behavioral responses. We must ask: what “stimuli” has our society provided men to make them believe that a woman in a public space is fair game?
From a developmental perspective, we see how the “Schema”—the mental frameworks we use to organize information—is built. From childhood, many Nigerian boys are fed a schema where masculinity is defined by dominance and femininity by domesticity or “availability.” We see this play out in the average household, where a daughter is raised to shoulder the weight of most chores like cooking, cleaning, and laundry – while her brother is often exempted, or worse, taught to expect his sisters to serve him. This early division of labor isn’t just about housework; it is a powerful psychological script that tells a boy his time is for development and leisure, while a girl’s time is for service and convenience.
When Sigmund Freud spoke of the Id—the primitive, impulsive part of our psyche—he noted it must be checked by the Superego (the moral conscience). At the Ozoro festival, what I observed was the total collapse of the Superego. We saw a collective regression where men felt no moral friction in committing assault. Why? Because their conditioning suggests that a woman’s body is public property if she steps outside the “box” society has built for her. This isn’t just “bad behavior”; it is a psychological pathology rooted in the belief that women are “lesser than.”
After listening to the horror stories of several women on social media who shared their experiences at past festivals, I am taken back to a thought I hold about the male-female dynamic in Nigeria that I don’t think we talk about enough. It suggests a deep-seated resistance to female independence.
A significant portion of our society struggles with the idea of a woman possessing absolute freedom. Not “permission,” but actual autonomy. I see this struggle manifest whenever a woman claims:
·The freedom to dress as she pleases, without being labeled a “provocation.”
·The freedom to say no—even in her 40s, while single.
·The freedom to choose a child-free life or a career-first path.
·The freedom to live a life that does not revolve around anyone else.
How else do we explain the atrocities? How does a woman walking through a market become a target for groping? How does a “no” to a suitor become an insult to his ego so profound that it warrants insults or violence? It happens because of a faulty internal script that suggests a woman exists for a man. If she forgets her “place,” the mob—or the partner, or the employer—is there to “remind” her through shame, control, or violence.
“If a ‘culture’ requires the sexual harassment and suffering of women to be sustained, that culture is not a heritage; it is a crime scene.”
It is time to reclaim a word unfairly maligned in our local discourse. We should all be feminists. In my context, feminism is not a “Western import” or a war against men. It is the absolute freedom for a woman to be heard, seen, and equipped with all that is required to achieve her dreams. It is the refusal to box her or limit her potential simply because of her biology.
Feminism is the radical belief that a woman is a whole human being—not a helper, not a decorative object, but a sovereign soul. When we embrace this, we don’t just “help women”; we heal the soul of the nation. A society that suppresses 50% of its brainpower and talent is a society destined for stagnation.
To move beyond the trauma of Ozoro, we must move beyond performative outrage. We need structural shifts in how we raise, employ, and govern:
1. For Parents: Educate Without Borders. The conditioning starts at the dinner table. Stop telling your daughters that certain courses are “too masculine.” Educate the girl child without limits. If she wants to be an astrophysicist, do not tell her she should study catering because it “allows more time for a husband.” Give her the tools to build a world, not just a home.
2. For Workplaces: Equity Over Optics. Don’t just “look” at women; see their value. Promote women who are due for it. Remove the “motherhood penalty” where women are passed over for promotions because they might get pregnant. Give them the necessary tools—mentorship, flexible hours, and equal pay—to thrive.
3. As a Society: Deconstruct Gendered Roles. We must stop assigning roles based on gender. This is especially vital in leadership. Whether in the boardroom or the halls of government, women are equals. We must challenge the “Boys’ Club” mentality that treats a female leader as an anomaly rather than a standard.
The sight of dozens of men chasing one woman at the Ozoro festival is a terrifying indicator of a belief system that views women as prey. But behavior can be unlearned. Schemas can be rebuilt. Pavlov’s dogs were conditioned to salivate, but humans have the capacity for reflection and change.
We must demand justice for the victims of Ozoro, but we must also demand a change in the Nigerian psyche. We must build a Nigeria where a woman can walk through any market, any festival, and any boardroom, knowing that her freedom is not a gift from men, but a birthright from God.
Ultimately, we must realize that the scenes at Ozoro are not isolated incidents; they are the symptoms of an outdated psychological script. True change will not come solely from a courtroom, but from our classrooms and our living rooms. We must begin the intentional work of unlearning. As parents, as employers, and as a society, we must stop raising our boys to be masters and our girls to be servants.
Creating an equal playing field is not the “job” of women; it is the responsibility of every Nigerian who believes in justice. We must all become feminists in the truest sense—advocating for the absolute autonomy of every woman to exist, speak, and move freely. Let us commit to a Nigeria where a woman’s freedom is not a “provocation” to be punished, but a standard to be protected. Let us build a nation where no woman has to ask for “permission” to be herself. Anything less is a betrayal of our shared humanity.
The time to rewrite the script is now, and I hope you play your part.