In a country of over 200 million people, where women constitute nearly half the population, it is difficult to justify a National Assembly where fewer than 5% of seats are occupied by women. Many agree this imbalance is unacceptable, and while the need for reform is now widely acknowledged, debate persists over the most appropriate tool to correct it. One proposal now before the 10th National Assembly – the constitution alteration bill for Special Seats for Women, scheduled for a vote by the National Assembly – has emerged as the most viable path forward. However, critics dismiss it as tokenistic and a dilution of merit. Such critiques risk overlooking a fundamental reality: without deliberate intervention, equitable representation in Nigeria’s legislatures will remain aspirational, not achievable.

The Special Seats Bill is a carefully designed and time-bound corrective measure. It proposes 37 women-only seats in the House of Representatives (one for each state and the FCT) and a corresponding arrangement for the Senate, with details being finalised. At the state level, three special seats are proposed in each State House of Assembly based on senatorial districts. These seats will be contested and are not permanent as the bill includes a review clause.

Countries that have made progress on women’s representation did not stumble into it, but adopted reforms suited to their context. Likewise, Nigeria’s bill reflects our unique political terrain e.g. first-past-the-post elections and single-member constituencies. These features create high-stakes contests that give political parties no incentive to consciously balance their candidate lists. Women are rarely considered “safe bets” in such winner-takes-all political environments.

Past efforts by women’s groups urging political parties to voluntarily adopt quotas have repeatedly failed. Proposals to reserve seats from the existing legislative structure have similarly face  resistance from lawmakers unwilling to cede political ground. The Special Seats Bill offers a pragmatic alternative by expanding the number of seats so existing constituencies remain intact, thereby minimising disruption while enabling inclusion.

This bill offers women structural access and real influence. The claim that the bill is tokenistic assumes that any form of seat reservation automatically implies lesser value or symbolic placement. However, tokenism happens when presence lacks power. Because the seats are to be contested, this bill offers both. In a legislature, numbers matter; not just for passing bills, but for transforming public perception. More women in the legislature will not only influence legislative priorities; it will normalise women’s leadership in spaces where they have long been perceived as exceptions.

Opponents argue that political office should be based on merit, suggesting that reforms should focus on levelling the playing field rather than creating special seats.

Unfortunately, such calls to “just” level the playing field often push reform to an indefinite future. Nigeria has had over two decades of democracy since 1999, with repeated promises by political parties to increase women’s participation. The result? A decline in the number of elected women. The 2023 general election saw the lowest number of women elected to the National Assembly since 1999 which is a stark indicator that the playing field is not just uneven; it’s getting worse.

Any idea that our current electoral process rewards merit is, at best, aspirational. Elections are shaped by money politics, geographical balancing, patronage networks, and informal power structures. Many men who benefit from these dynamics are not elected because they are the most qualified, but because they are better positioned and better resourced. Asking women in such an environment to simply compete “like men” for limited seats or wait for the playing field to level is effectively asking them to remain excluded.

Moreover, adopting special seats does not negate broader reforms. Both are complementary. While long-term social and cultural changes are necessary, representation cannot be postponed until the coast is cleared of all obstacles.

Historical and contemporary examples demonstrate that women’s political gains rarely happen organically. Senegal introduced a parity law in 2010, and within a year, women held 44% of parliamentary seats. Kenya reserved 47 seats for women in its National Assembly, guaranteeing representation that previously existed only in rhetoric.

Even the Nordic countries (e.g. Finland, Denmark, Norway, etc.) celebrated today for their inclusive democracies did not achieve their numbers through passive evolution. Despite suffrage rights dating back to 1900s and minimal legal barriers, it took decades of deliberate policies, quotas, and cultural shifts for women to gain critical mass in parliament. Today, they boast some of the highest levels of women’s representation globally, but it was not inevitable. It was engineered via advocacy and structured intervention.

If countries that have long enjoyed high levels of education, democratic maturity, and political stability needed special measures to make real gains, it is not realistic to expect Nigerian women to succeed without similar support.

Concerns about expanding the legislature are legitimate, but must be placed in context. A cost-benefit analysis on the bill by Policy and Legal Advocacy Centre (PLAC) found that additional women seats would amount to less than 1% of the national budget and less than 5% of the National Assembly’s budget. The leadership potential, policy shifts, and broader national benefits far outweigh this minimal fiscal impact. The political, social, and economic cost of exclusion is far greater.

Since Nigeria began incremental constitutional amendments in 2010, no women-focused proposal has succeeded. The Special Seats Bill therefore presents the 10th National Assembly with a rare opportunity to shift this trajectory and leave a legacy of inclusion.

The bill does not pretend to solve every barrier women face, but lays a foundation upon which long-term reform can be built.

The time for rhetorical commitments is over. Other nations moved forward precisely because they refused to wait and Nigeria must do the same.

Democracy, to be credible, must be representative. The Special Seats Bill deserves a chance not because women should be accommodated, but because Nigeria’s democracy cannot be complete without them.

Nkiru is Programme Manager, Legislative & Gender Issues at Policy & Legal Advocacy Centre (PLAC), Abuja