When Senator Natasha Akpoti Uduaghan sat before the Arise TV cameras, she didn’t just tell her story. She exposed a system. A system built on arrogance, unchecked power, and the entitlement of men who believe women in politics should be seen, not heard.
Let’s call it what it is—state-sanctioned misogyny.
December 8, 2023. Akwa Ibom. Senate President Godswill Akpabio’s birthday celebration. Senator Natasha, alongside other guests, is given a tour of his residence. At some point, he allegedly suggests she spend “special moments” with him. Read that again. A sitting Senate President, comfortable enough to proposition a female colleague with her husband not too far behind.
That is not just a man overestimating his charm. That is a man who knows power in Nigeria means impunity.
Her husband knew the game. Like many Nigerian men who understand how power works in this country, he warned her. Never travel alone. Because that is what women in power must constantly do. Calculate their safety around men who see them as trophies, not equals.
But Natasha refused to play along. And true to form, the system struck back.
First, the Senate showdown. She stood her ground in a disagreement and Akpabio, a man who had spent decades feeding off Nigeria’s broken system, ordered security to throw her out.
A sitting senator. Thrown out like an intruder.
Would this have happened if she were a man? We know the answer. But Nigerian politics has always had a problem with women who refuse to shrink themselves for the comfort of fragile male egos.
Then came the retaliation. A ₦100 billion lawsuit. Senate disciplinary actions. A full-scale institutional attack designed to send a message. Not just to Natasha, but to every woman watching. Step out of line and we will ruin you.
We have seen this script too many times. A powerful man abuses his position, a woman speaks up, and suddenly the entire system mobilizes not against the man but against her.
And it is not just Natasha. Look at what is happening to the substantive Speaker of the Lagos State House of Assembly. Two high ranking women, bullied and sidelined for daring to exist in spaces men believe belong to them.
How long will we pretend this isn’t a crisis? How long will we act like this is just politics as usual when what we are witnessing is systemic intimidation?
I watched the Senator Natasha interview on Arise TV. While the content was powerful, I found Arise TV’s handling a little frustrating. The constant interjections felt like they were rushing through a conversation that deserved more time. And then there was Rufai, casually calling her “Natasha” as if they were old schoolmates. Senator Natasha. Show some respect.
She made serious allegations, and honestly, none of them sound out of character for Akpabio. This is a man who believes money and power can get him anything. The threats she described. The demands she accused him of making. They fit the pattern.
And then there is Senator Bamidele. A hawkish regional champion who sees the Tinubu administration and Akpabio’s Senate presidency as a Southwest power play over the North. I have not forgotten his role in the Abdul Ningi suspension saga. This is someone who operates on pure political calculations, not principles.
Akpabio, with his ultra-fragile ego, will not take this lightly. He will mobilize his loyalists, his “children” in the Senate, as one of them shamelessly called him on national TV, to attack Natasha.
Most of them are spineless. Their priority is not governance but securing favors. Will Natasha escape this battle unscathed? It would take a miracle.
But not this time.
Because this time, we are watching.
Loudly. Relentlessly.
Is that how it is going to be? Not this time. Not anymore.
Stephanie Shaakaa
University of Agriculture Makurdi,
Benue State.
