Interpreting Senator Florence Ita-Giwa’s Take On Akpabio/Natasha Scandal To Be ‘Orishirishi’ (OPINION)
By Isaac Asabor
After reading a news story on former Senator Florence Ita-Giwa’s response to the Akpabio/Natasha scandal as reported in a national newspaper, a colleague sighed and said, “Orishirishi.” The exasperation in her voice was unmistakable, and when I probed further, she explained that the response from Senator Ita-Giwa was not only incomprehensible but also concerning.
For the sake of clarity, “Orishirishi” is a traditional coinage rooted in the Yoruba language of southwestern Nigeria, meaning variety. Given the foregoing explanation, there is no denying the fact that my colleague was ostensibly pissed off with the plethora of views being shared by many Nigerians, particularly those of Senator Florence Ita-Giwa, Senator Ireti Kingibe, and from trending public opinion been expressed and shared that Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan is fond of accusing men of sexual harassment.
Without a doubt, the smear campaign against her is no doubt a seeming mischievous attempt to give her a bad name. As proverbially said, it is bad to give a dog a bad name in order to hang it.
In fact, there is no denying the fact that since the Akpabio/Natasha Scandal erupted that there have been “Orishirishi” of opinions on the issue that has led to a cacophony of perspectives, most of which seem to miss the point. It will be recalled that Senator Ita-Giwa criticized Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan for alleging that she was sexually harassed by Senate President Godswill Akpabio. In her response to the sexual harassment claim on Arise TV on Tuesday, Ita-Giwa stated that Senator Akpoti-Uduaghan is beyond the stage of making such allegations. According to Ita-Giwa, women cannot be sexually harassed when they become senators.
“By the time you contest elections and get to the Senate, you have passed that stage of your life of being sexually harassed.
“You go there to serve, and you are all equal in that place. And again, it shows weakness; you don’t allow it. It (sexual harassment) cannot happen in the Senate.
“I am not saying the lady is lying, but when you get to the Senate, you’re there as a person. You’re not there as a woman.
“At that stage in politics, if you come out and say someone is sexually harassing you, it is a weakness,” the former presidential adviser said.
Given the foregoing backdrop, it is difficult to reconcile Ita-Giwa’s response with the reality of sexual harassment, which transcends age, social status, and professional designation. The assertion that women are no longer susceptible to sexual harassment simply because they have attained the status of senators is both problematic and misleading.
Sexual harassment is not a function of a woman’s rank or title. It is a power play, and power is often wielded irrespective of the victim’s stature. There have been countless cases of accomplished, highly placed women across the world who have spoken out about being harassed in professional and political spaces. Ita-Giwa’s response, therefore, appears to diminish the seriousness of Natasha’s claim, suggesting that a woman’s ascension to power somehow shields her from harassment. This assertion is not only flawed but also dangerous, as it discourages women from speaking out against such abuses in political and professional spaces.
My colleague’s exclamation of “Orishirishi” becomes even more justified when we examine other voices that have weighed in on this issue. Senator Ireti Kingibe, for instance, not only took sides with Akpabio, but took a more perplexing stance, suggesting that Natasha’s allegation was concocted or groundless. This further feeds into the culture of blaming the victim that allows harassment to persist unchecked.
The crux of the matter, however, remains the tendency of some Nigerians to dismiss allegations of harassment based on irrelevant factors such as the age or status of the accuser. Ita-Giwa’s argument essentially promotes the idea that there is an expiration date on a woman’s vulnerability to sexual harassment, a notion that is both untrue and harmful. If a female senator can be harassed and is discouraged from speaking out, what hope is there for young, aspiring women in politics and other male-dominated fields?
The larger issue here is not just Ita-Giwa’s response but the general reaction from society when a woman makes allegations of harassment. The default reaction is often to question the woman’s motives, dig into her past, or suggest that she is exaggerating. In Natasha’s case, some have insinuated that she is fond of making such allegations, as if a pattern of complaints automatically discredits her claims. This is a tactic frequently used to silence women who dare to challenge the status quo.
The problem with this approach is that it sets a dangerous precedent. If every woman who speaks up is immediately questioned, dismissed, or ridiculed, fewer women will be willing to come forward in the future. The implication is that powerful men can continue to act with impunity, secure in the knowledge that their victims will be too afraid to speak out.
It is also worth noting that Ita-Giwa’s response contradicts the broader fight for gender equality in politics. If the argument is that women are equal to men in the Senate, then why are their complaints dismissed so readily? Equality should mean that allegations of misconduct are taken seriously, investigated properly, and addressed accordingly, not brushed aside under the guise of strength or resilience.
Moreover, Ita-Giwa’s statement that “at that stage in politics, if you come out and say someone is sexually harassing you, it is a weakness” is highly problematic. It suggests that enduring harassment without complaint is a sign of strength. This is the kind of mentality that emboldens perpetrators and keeps victims silent. Strength should not be measured by one’s ability to endure abuse but by one’s ability to challenge and change oppressive systems.
In the grand scheme of things, my colleague’s sigh of “Orishirishi” perfectly captures the absurdity of the situation. The variety of responses, from Ita-Giwa’s dismissal to Kingibe’s call for discretion and the public’s attempt to discredit Natasha, reflects a troubling societal attitude towards sexual harassment. Instead of rallying behind the victim and calling for accountability, the discussion has been derailed into questioning her motives and legitimacy.
If there is one lesson to be learned from this hullabaloo, it is that Nigeria still has a long way to go in addressing issues of sexual harassment, particularly in politics. Women in power should not be expected to suffer in silence, nor should they be told that they are beyond the stage of being harassed. The conversation should not be about why Natasha spoke out, but rather about ensuring that all allegations of misconduct, regardless of the accuser’s or accused’s status, are taken seriously and addressed appropriately.
Until Nigeria can create an environment where women, regardless of their position, can speak up without fear of being ridiculed or dismissed, the exasperated sigh of “Orishirishi” will continue to resonate. And sadly, it will continue to represent the frustration of those who watch as issues of grave importance are reduced to mere spectacle, debated with little concern for the real victims involved.
