I am deeply concerned, not just by the deaths of five Lagos female political leaders, which happened sequentially, but by the eerie silence and dissociation that followed it. Unlike so many other news and happenings, some of which are not even irrelevant, the story of the Lagos 5 is not trending.
As I write this, the news of their demise seems to have barely made a ripple on the surface of public discourse, with just a few reports and mentions on social media handles.
It is almost a week after the passing of the fifth woman, yet there is no noise, no outrage, no hashtags. It seems as though their lives, their impact, and their contributions to leadership, politics, and public conversation were insignificant — unworthy of the outrage and condemnation that would normally accompany such a tragedy.
I marvel at the way everyone just glosses over this immeasurable tragedy and moves on with a “business as usual” attitude.
Nigeria is at a time when female representation in leadership and political spaces has nosedived; yet, there is no outrage over the seemingly mysterious deaths of five elected female leaders within a span of six weeks.
Oluwakemi Rufai was the elected councilor of Ward C in Ibeju-Lekki. She died on August 13, 2025, just two weeks after being sworn into office.
Zainab Shotayo was the councilor of Ward C3, Odiolowo-Ojuwoye LCDA. She died just five days after Oluwakemi, on August 18, 2025.
Princess Oluremi Nutayi Ajose was the Vice Chairman of Badagry West LCDA. She died on September 20, 2025, just two months after being sworn into office.
Basirat Oluwakemi Mayabikan was the councilor of Ward F in Shomolu LGA. She died on September 21, 2025, a few weeks after assuming office.
Adebimpe Akintola died on September 29, 2025, barely 60 days after she assumed office as the administrative head of Coker-Aguda Local Council Development Area (LCDA), Lagos State.
All five women were reported to have died after a brief illness. They were quietly buried immediately, according to Muslim burial rites.
Yet we are in the midst of ongoing advocacy, campaigns, demands, and agitation for female leadership, because Nigeria ranks terribly low in the global gender equality index — even within the continent. And in the 27 years of Nigeria’s return to democratic rule, this is the period with the most abysmal percentage of female representation. Yet five female leaders mysteriously died days apart, but there are no investigations, no inquiries, no autopsies. And on the part of the people, there is no outrage, no campaigns, no hashtags — just silence.
It is just a few days after the revelation of the deaths of the Lagos five female political leaders, yet all seems to be well with the world. You only hear about this national tragedy in whispers, mentioned in conversations or in one or two social media posts.
The irony is that these women were not ordinary; they were political leaders — women who had taken the bold step to enter the political arena, often dominated by men. Women who had dared to brave the odds of campaigning, contesting, and winning elections. Still, silence.
Recently, while in conversation with a friend from Lagos, she casually said, “They were not cooked well” — sparingly, dismissively, passively. I was dumbfounded.
The Lagos five had faced and braved the challenges, scrutiny, and criticism that come with Nigerian politics and being on the ballot. They were undoubtedly passionate about making a difference in their communities, bringing about change, and serving the people. Their deaths, under mysterious circumstances, raise and leave more questions than answers.
Who were these women? What happened to them? What did they stand for? Why are their deaths mysteriously hushed? Why do their deaths not spark the outrage that would normally greet such a tragedy? Was it a coincidence, or was there something more sinister at play? The answers, much like justice, seem elusive.
Lagos prides itself on being the economic hub of Nigeria, where the pulse of politics and activism beats strongly. Yet the lack of reaction to the deaths of the Lagos five is not just disturbing but heartbreaking.
Beyond the circumstances of their deaths, what is even more troubling is the eerie silence that has greeted the news.
Where is the outrage? Where are the protests? Where are the demands for justice? Where are the calls for accountability? Who is taking responsibility for this national tragedy?
It seems as though the lives of these women are considered disposable — collateral damage. It is as though their contributions to society were not worthy of recognition or protection.
This silence is not just a reflection of the apathy that often characterizes our society; it is a symptom of a deeper problem. It reflects the systemic marginalization of women, particularly women in politics. It shows that women’s lives are often seen as less valuable, less worthy of attention and protection.
The deaths of the Lagos five are a stark reminder of the dangers that women in politics face. They are often subjected to violence, intimidation, and harassment — all because they seek to provide democratic leadership.
In most sectors, women are forced to navigate a male-dominated world, where their voices are silenced, their contributions undervalued and overlooked, their safety at risk, their lives endangered. This persists to this day.
Regardless, this is not just about women in politics. This is about the value we, as a people, place on human life. This is about the kind of society we want to build. Is it a society that values justice, equality, and human rights — or one that doesn’t? Do we want to build a society that values the lives of its citizens, particularly its most vulnerable members — or one that doesn’t?
The silence is deafening. But it is time for us to break it. It is time for us to speak up and demand justice. It is time for us to demand better because we deserve better. We owe it to the Lagos five; we owe it to ourselves and to women yet unborn.
We must honor their memories by demanding justice. We must honor their legacies by fighting for a better future. We must let this tragedy remind us of the countless women who have lost their lives in similar circumstances. Let it remind us of the countless women who have been silenced, marginalized, and oppressed. And let this remembrance lead us to demand urgent change.
We must demand more than just change; we must demand justice for these women. We must demand accountability for their deaths. We must demand a society that values the lives of all its citizens — particularly women. We must demand a political system that protects and empowers women, rather than silencing and marginalizing them.
Nigerian women demand justice for the Lagos five, who died under mysterious circumstances. We call on the President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria and the Governor of Lagos State to mandate an investigation into their deaths.
We call on the First Lady of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, Senator Oluremi Tinubu, to stand with us in the call for accountability and transparency in the investigation of their deaths.
We call on support organizations that promote women’s empowerment and participation in politics — UN Women, the UN, UNDP, the British High Commission, the U.S. Embassy, and gender-friendly corporate organizations — to join our demand for accountability and transparency in investigating these deaths.
We call on all Nigerians to speak out against the violence and marginalization of women everywhere, especially in leadership and politics, because it is only together that we can create a society that values the lives of all its citizens.
It is only together that we can demand better.
Hawwah A. Gambo is a Corporate Communications Consultant, Gender Inclusivity/Mainstreaming Advocate, Social Entrepreneur & Publisher of Sheroes Rising. She writes from Abuja, Nigeria.
