Opinion
Whither Women’s Right To Family Property?
As Nigeria continues to grapple with gender inequality, a critical issue that has long been overlooked is the right of women to family property. The significance of this topic cannot be overstated, as it affects millions of women across the country who are denied their rightful inheritance due to discriminatory cultural and social norms. The law passed by the Rivers State Government aimed at addressing this injustice is a step in the right direction, but its implementation and impact remain to be seen. In this topic, one question has continued to seek an answer to no avail. Will women’s rights to family property wither away, or will they finally receive the recognition and protection they deserve?
In Nigeria, women’s rights to family property have been historically limited by cultural and social norms that prioritise male inheritance. Pre-colonial Nigerian societies were largely patriarchal, with property ownership and inheritance passing through male lines. Women were often seen as chattels, with no independent rights to land or property. Colonialism introduced new legal frameworks, but these reinforced existing gender biases. The British colonial administration’s introduction of the “Native Law and Custom” perpetuated patriarchal norms, solidifying men’s control over property. Post-independence Nigeria saw minimal changes. The 1978 Land Use Act, for instance, gave state governors control over land distribution, often favouring men. Patriarchal traditions did not help matters as men are seen as heads of households, with women as dependents.
Customarily, many ethnic groups have laws which exclude women from inheriting property while most religious beliefs and interpretations tend to reinforce gender inequality in property rights. Women, who assert property claims face ridicule and ostracism. In some clime, women’s limited access to education and employment makes them financially dependent on men.These norms have led to women being denied inheritance, limited access to land and property, increased poverty and vulnerability, capping it up with perpetuation of gender inequality. In an effort to address these injustices, the Rivers State Government signed the Rivers State Prohibition of the Curtailment of Women’s Right to Share in Family Property Law No. 2 of 2022, aimed at protecting women’s rights to family property. Key provisions include; equal inheritance rights for women, protection from disinheritance, right to consent in property transactions, access to land and property registration and establishment of a gender and development department
By the provisions of this law, Rivers women should have the right to equal ownership and control of property, inheritance of ancestral property, protection from forced marriage and property grabbing, increased economic empowerment, and enhanced social status. Unfortunately, despite the passage of this, Rivers women still face barriers to land-sharing. In a report compiled by Elfredah Kevin-Alerechi, a journalist with The Colonist Report Africa, “women in Rivers State have continued to struggle for land, despite the Prohibition of the Curtailment of Women’s Right to Share in Family Property Law No. 2 of 2022. Recall that at the time of the law’s passage, the International Federation of Women Lawyers, FIDA, stated that the new law would allow women in Rivers State to fully realise their potential and inherit their entitlements, while also paving the way for discrimination to be challenged in court.
According to Elfredah, it is surprising to note that some community leaders are yet to comply with the law, directly or indirectly resisting the changes brought about by the law, and slowing its impact. She quoted a respondent as saying “the government doesn’t have the right to force us to give land to our daughters because the daughters will eventually get married,’ “if a woman is given property in her father’s house, it means she will benefit more than the male because the property of her husband also belong to her”. However, it is more worrisome to discover that women on their own part may not have come to the full awareness of the enormous power the passage of such law has weilded into their hands. Study has revealed that many women are not aware of their rights under the law, or may not know how to claim them. This is as some women face barriers in accessing education and legal assistance to navigate the legal process and deep-rooted patriarchal norms and stereotypes continue to influence attitudes and behaviours, hindering the law’s effectiveness.
This present reality possibly suggests that the passage of Prohibition of the Curtailment of Women’s Right to Share in Family Property Law No. 2 of 2022 has not significantly eliminated the historical discrimination women in Rivers State face concerning access to and inheritance of land. Although it could be argued that the law is relatively new, and it may take time for its effects to be fully realised, the truth is that no matter how long the law may have been in existence, adequate implementation and enforcement remain key.It is essential to address these challenges through continued advocacy, education, and support to ensure the law achieves its purpose and women’s rights are protected. Addressing these challenges is crucial to ensuring the effective implementation of the law and promoting gender equality in Rivers State.
Sylvia ThankGod-Amadi
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
