They say politics is not for the fainthearted. But in Nigeria, it’s not just courage a woman needs — it’s armor.
Every election season, we watch capable women step forward — articulate, educated, and community-driven — only to be cut down by the invisible blades of culture, bias, and male insecurity. The system smiles politely while holding the gate shut.
Juliet Anaeme, popularly known as Ada Ozubulu, knows this battle too well. Her story is the story of a thousand Nigerian women — brilliant, visionary, yet constantly reminded that “politics is not for women.”
Juliet has done what many men only talk about. She has contested elections, organized women’s groups, and built bridges across communities. From rural empowerment programs to youth mentorship, she has walked the path of service. Yet, like many women before her, she has been told — directly and indirectly — to wait her turn. But when does a woman’s turn truly come in a society that refuses to make room for her?
Nigeria’s political data tells a painful truth. Out of 469 seats in the National Assembly, women occupy less than 6%. In some states, none at all. This is not democracy — it’s discrimination wearing a suit.
I once watched Juliet at a town hall in Anambra. The hall was packed — traders, widows, students. She spoke not from paper, but from pain. She talked about the struggles of market women who feed the state’s economy but have no say in policy. The crowd nodded. Some wiped tears. For a moment, it felt like leadership had a human face again.
Yet when nomination time came, the party gatekeepers — mostly men — sidelined her. Not because she lacked merit, but because she lacked godfathers. That’s the quiet tragedy of Nigerian politics: competence without connection is a disqualification.
Still, she didn’t quit. Instead, she returned to her first mission — people. Mobilizing women. Mentoring youths. Speaking truth to power, even when power pretends not to hear. That resilience is what makes Juliet more than a politician — she’s an awakening.
Every time society tells her “you can’t,” she builds another path. Every time the system closes a door, she gathers others to break a wall. That’s not just courage — that’s leadership in its purest form.
Juliet Anaeme’s story is not merely about a woman seeking office. It’s about a society at war with its own potential. Nigeria cannot rise while half of its capable citizens are kept on the sidelines of power.
Her journey is both a warning and a promise:
If women like Juliet continue to stand, Nigeria still has hope.
Because true leadership is not about who wins elections.
It’s about who refuses to be defeated.
—
Linus Anagboso
Digital Solution Consultants,
Columnist, Community Advocate.
#D-BIGPEN.
