No is a complete sentence
When I first heard of the rape and murder of Uwavera Omozuwa, the first emotion I felt was fear. In most conversations around rape in Nigeria and perhaps in many other parts of the world, the dominant narrative is one that blames the victim. The way the rape conversation has always gone, it is the girl’s fault for going to meet the guy or for being in a compromising position. This victim-blaming and shifting of responsibility—together with the objectification of women—is a bullying strategy aimed at silencing the person that speaks out.
In Uwavera’s case, what caught my attention and made me scared was the absence of the usual parameters used to blame the victim. She was in a church—a space that connotes holiness; she was studying—absolutely not seeking any attention. Yet, she was raped and murdered. We can perhaps now begin to understand that rape is not about what the victim is doing or wearing.
One would think that the facts of this case should prevent even the most ardent rape apologist from victim-blaming. However, on social media, you can still find people trying to fault the dead by asking what was she studying alone in a church. Even the University of Benin’s press statement was advising young people to be wary of the company they keep. This, for me, is a clear case of blaming the murdered victim.
Women, it seems, are to be responsible for the actions of men. They are somehow expected to manage themselves such that they do not trigger the animalistic desires of men. Women are told to dress in a certain way to avoid harassment and never go to a party or a boy’s house alone. It is always women who need to make unreasonable adjustments to their lives even when it is clear that the societal norms that lead to the objectification and sexualisation of women are in men’s territory.
As a woman in Nigeria, if you go to certain markets or even a party, men try to slap your butt or touch you inappropriately. In public buses, men try to feel your body—one was filmed recently and posted on Twitter. It is like no one knows where to draw the line anymore. Nigerian music—Olamide’s story for the gods, for example—skits and comedies often trivialize rape. This shows how men and even the entertainment that we consume perceive women as objects to satisfy men’s sexual desires. Women are not seen as having feelings, as people that can be hurt, or as people that can be damaged. We are seen and marketed as products—something that can be used to satisfy men’s urges. And when you see people as objects and not persons, you abuse them.
Rape is never the fault of the woman; it is about men abusing power—the power that a patriarchal society has given them. It’s not about what the woman wears or where she goes. It is about the perpetrator and the entitlement that they think they have over a woman’s body, anywhere and anytime. That girls have to carry out a social media campaign explaining consent, that they have to scream “no means no,” exposes the depth of this entitlement and reveals a deep-seated societal problem.
People have said: “Do not turn this into a gender war, men get raped too.” Are they then trying to say that we are even? Some others have said: “Not all men though.” Yet again, they miss the point. Women, just like men, signed a contract with society to be protected and respected, but, over and over again, our bodies have been looted and disrespected, and the fact that men can even boldly use rape to threaten women shows how poor our laws have been in getting us justice. How many rapists have we brought to justice in Nigeria? Where is our rape offenders list? How many powerful men who have been accused of rape have been interrogated?
#JusticeForUwa is important because people now realise that there is a systematic problem in the mind of rapists, and you cannot protect yourself from them. In the words of Jessica Valenti: “Being responsible has nothing to do with being raped. Women don’t get raped because they were drinking or took drugs. Women don’t get raped because they weren’t careful enough. Women get raped because somebody raped them.”
To change the current realities, we need to introduce functional laws and respect consent. As Deepak in the movie PINK said: “No isn’t just a word; it is a complete sentence, and it doesn’t need any further explanation”.
About the author
Ayomide Oluseye is a PhD candidate at The Open University, UK. She researches and writes on teenage pregnancy and motherhood in Nigeria.