The decision by ‘Survivors of rape and incest’ to go to court for the enforcement of their rights highlights the marginalisation of the less privileged people in the country. The rights being canvassed are basic rights that should never have been in dispute in the first place, had relevant institutions lived up to their billing.
This is hardly surprising, however, because rights are ordinarily difficult to enforce even for the average Nigerian. Yet, when law, public morality, and basic humanity intersect in the life of a nation, remaining silent at such times amounts to tacit complicity.
Recently, a suit instituted at the Federal High Court in Ikoyi by the Women Advocates Research and Documentation Centre (WARDC) sought judicial affirmation of rights for survivors of rape and incest. The litigation seeks to compel Nigerian authorities to confront the embarrassing neglect of citizens who have endured the most intimate forms of violence. To ignore this group of Nigerians is to subject them to another round of violence: this time, from the State.
By approaching the courts, the plaintiffs are invoking the rights already recognised by the Nigerian Constitution, not requesting favours or new entitlements. These fundamental rights, including the right to life, dignity, personal liberty, and access to medical care without prejudice, should not become less enforceable for the women involved, who suffered violence in private spaces. Governments have a solemn responsibility to safeguard those rights without fear or favour.
The obligations the survivors seek to enforce are acknowledged under domestic law and in continental and international treaties to which Nigeria has voluntarily subscribed. These include the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, the Maputo Protocol, the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women, the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights and the Violence Against Persons (Prohibition) Act. The unmistakable thread running through these provisions is that victims of sexual violence are entitled to psychological and reproductive health support, including safe termination of pregnancy when sexual assault results in conception.
The very existence of the suit points to a failure of governance. After decades of advocacy, engagements in legislative reforms and international commitments, Nigerian women who have been violated should not be left rowing frustratingly against systemic obstacles that treat their pain as an inconvenience and their medical needs as expendable. “I survived the rape. I survived the shame. But I should not have to survive government neglect, too,” one of the survivors said.
Sexual assault already scars the body and fractures the psyche. Forcing survivors to carry unwanted pregnancies against their will, their health needs, and the law’s guarantees is an aberration: a betrayal by a government that claims to serve its people. Nigerian society should reject this unhesitatingly.
Cultural and religious sentiment, which Nigeria harbours in abundance, must never take the place of constitutional duty. The Nigerian Constitution is a solemn charter of rights that is binding on all citizens, not a manual of suggestions. Sections 33 and 34 guarantee the right to life and dignity. The VAPP Act mandates comprehensive support for victims without making exceptions for medical abortions that can save lives, and Nigeria’s ratification of international treaties on women’s rights was not accompanied by disclaimers that domestic sentiment should outweigh global commitments.
As culture evolves, public policy must follow the law, not the voices of resistance from the geopolitical zone. Adopted by Nigeria and African states, the Maputo Protocol requires signatories to permit safe termination of pregnancy with respect to sexual assault, incest or endangerment to the woman’s health. This consensus was neither externally imposed nor the result of Western arm-twisting; it was the outcome of an African recognition of contemporary realities and women’s rights.
A government that claims to value the lives of its womenfolk cannot simultaneously adopt policies that push them into dangerous and clandestine medical interventions. An estimated 1.2 to two million induced abortions are said to occur in Nigeria every year. Research indicates that denying survivors access to safe, legal medicare does not reduce the horrendous figure.
On the contrary, it increases the number of unsafe ones, amid reported incidents involving the use of bicycle spokes and clothes hangers. Public hospitals continue to bear the brunt of managing severe complications from unsafe abortions — a major cause of gynaecological admissions in tertiary hospitals. Cases include infections (sepsis), haemorrhage (uncontrolled bleeding), uterine perforation, cervical trauma, and secondary infertility.
The torturous climb to find redress is also concerning. The criminal justice system often fails to hold perpetrators accountable when a woman or girl is raped. Investigations stall. Police trivialise reports. Evidence kits are unavailable. Perpetrators are rarely brought to book. Survivors are blamed, shamed or dismissed. To deny them essential medical care under such circumstances is to aggravate their suffering while rewarding impunity.
However, recourse should not be made to judicial interventions alone in the pursuit of a long-term solution. The Federal Government must demonstrate leadership by issuing clear national guidelines that allow victims of sexual violence to access ancillary medical care. States must redouble their efforts towards the full implementation of the VAPP Act, with a special focus on addressing the major challenges of funding and establishing support centres. Public hospitals must be funded and equipped to provide services without discrimination, stigma or bureaucratic bottlenecks. Health workers must also be trained to follow the law, not their personal sentiments.
The suit before the Federal High Court in Ikoyi is an indictment of the country. How long it takes for justice to arrive, if it arrives at all, will say much about the value Nigeria places on its women. The country should not be seen as aspiring to join the ranks of nations that strip women of their rights. Rather, it should stand among countries committed to protecting women when they are most vulnerable. Nigeria’s leadership must ensure that constitutional guarantees are not just on paper but also fulfil promised liberties.
The survivors and the Women Advocates Research and Documentation Centre have done their part by bringing the matter before the law. They have shown courage in the face of institutional indifference. The onus is now on the Nigerian State. It must demonstrate that the lives of women are not expendable, that their dignity is non-negotiable, and that their rights will not be dismissed.
A country cannot claim to uphold justice while abandoning its most wounded citizens. This suit challenges Nigeria to decide how it wishes to be seen by the international community. The country must choose wisely, now.
