What the VAPP Act Repeal Means to Women, Activists and Survivors

VAPP Act

Photo illustration by Dami Mojid / THE REPUBLIC. Ref: KOGI REPORTS.

THE MINISTRY OF GENDER X SEXUALITY

What the VAPP Act Repeal Means to Women, Activists and Survivors

On 9 July 2024, a bill to repeal and reenact the Violence Against Persons Prohibition (VAPP) Act passed its second reading at the National House of Assembly. Nigerian women analyze this Bill through personal and collective histories on what it could mean for the fight against gender-based violence.
VAPP Act

Photo illustration by Dami Mojid / THE REPUBLIC. Ref: KOGI REPORTS.

THE MINISTRY OF GENDER X SEXUALITY

What the VAPP Act Repeal Means to Women, Activists and Survivors

On 9 July 2024, a bill to repeal and reenact the Violence Against Persons Prohibition (VAPP) Act passed its second reading at the National House of Assembly. Nigerian women analyze this Bill through personal and collective histories on what it could mean for the fight against gender-based violence.

Trigger warning: Sexual violence, physical and psychological abuse.

In August 2024, 24-year-old Yasmin Bello* left the office of the Legal Officer-in-Command, Zone 10 Sokoto, sniffing into her hijab. It had been three anxious months since a friend put her in direct contact with the Criminal Investigation Department, and now she was leaving with a protection order against her cousin, Ahmed. ‘He began spreading rumours of me sleeping around, then peeping at me through my toilet window,’ she told me, ‘He then proceeded to blackmail me that he has pictures of me bathing and he’d share them online if I don’t sleep with him.’

Under the Violence Against Persons Prohibition (VAPP) Act, Ahmed’s actions are classified as coercion (section 3) and emotional and psychological abuse (section 14). If convicted on both charges, he could spend a maximum of four years in prison and pay a fine of N200,000. Before the case could be heard in court, Yasmin’s father demanded that she withdraw it. The protection order was the best she could get. 

This order, provided for by section 30 of the VAPP Act, prohibits Ahmed from contacting her in any way or being within ten meters of her. If violated, the Officer in Command assured Yasmin that the matter would transcend her, and the state must prosecute Ahmed under the Act. She said: ‘It is the only form of justice I’ve gotten, despite being a victim of serial sexual violence by grown men in my community.’ 

The VAPP Act was domesticated in Sokoto State in 2021, six years after former president, Goodluck Ebele Jonathan signed it. A month before Yasmin got her order, a bill to repeal the Act and reenact a different version entered its final stage of consideration at the National Assembly. This change was championed by Senator Jibrin Isah of Kogi East Senatorial District, under claims that the current Act is ‘inimical to its purpose.’ While the provisions of the Bill offer stricter punishments, use less gendered language, and remove references to outdated legislation, it also effectively compounds the problems of survivors and advocates, especially under provisions for the Survivors of Violence Support Fund, by reducing the ability of NGOs to be independently funded.

VAPP ACT AND SOKOTO: ‘WOMEN SHOULDN’T REPORT THINGS LIKE THIS’

In 2001, the Women’s Rights Advancement and Protection Alternative organized a conference on gender-based violence, which formed the Legislative Advocacy Coalition on Violence Against Women (LACVAW). By the next year, the Coalition submitted a bill titled ‘Violence Against Women (Prohibition) Bill to the National Assembly without success. Four years later, they shifted to integrating other bills on gender-based violence into more holistic legislation. But only in 2008, when Yasmin was eight, did these integrations birth the VAPP bill. In its first section, the Bill featured an expanded definition of rape that included how her step-cousin had been abusing her: Section 1 (2015) read:

A person commits the offense of rape if he or she intentionally penetrates the vagina, anus or mouth of another person with any other part of his or her body or anything else; (b) the other person does not consent to the penetration; or (c) the consent is obtained by force or means of threat or intimidation…

Yasmin had been penetrated using stones and sticks. Growing up in a conservative Muslim family, she did not have the words to report what was happening to her. She was too afraid to give any hints. However, when her mother found out, she would learn being discovered was a greater shame. ‘What she (my mother) did was to beat me in public. I was beaten 50 times and slapped 15 times,’ she said, ‘And I can remember the exact number because after every slap, every beating, I prayed to God for help, but then no help came until I stopped asking.’

While Yasmin continued to endure abuse from her step-cousin and his friends, LACVAW kept pushing the Bill through several interventions. There were media campaigns and 16 days of Activism in November 2009 under the theme ‘Commit, Act, Demand! We Can End Violence Against Women.’ But it was only until 14 March, 2013, that the House of Representatives finally passed the Bill containing 48 sections, 26 of which outline acts under six kinds of violence: sexual, physical, psychological, emotional, financial, and political. Each section prescribes punishments for committing, attempting, inciting, or assisting offenders. By this time, Yasmin’s pool of abusers had expanded beyond family members to include the gateman at her secondary school.

Following one of Nigeria’s most intense electoral periods, President Jonathan conceded defeat and handed over power to Muhammadu Buhari. Following pressure from activists, President Jonathan signed the VAPP Bill four days before he left office on 25 May 2015. 

It was in this same year that Yasmin was starting to unlearn shame and gathered the courage to report an abuser for the first time. In a shuttle heading to the Usman Danfodio University, a man seated beside her had unzipped himself and forced her hand into his trousers. This crime is covered under Indecent Exposure in the VAPP Act. Section 27 (2015) read: ‘A person who intentionally exposes his or her genital organs, or a substantial part thereof, and induces another to either massage or touch with the intention of deriving sexual pleasure from such acts commits an offense under this clause.’

Yasmin had one witness, the shuttle conductor, but he had laughed while he watched her freeze in her seat, unable to understand why this had happened to her again. When the shuttle stopped, Yasmin went to the security office of the school to report but was advised to let it go. She said:

It took so much for me because I was 15. It was not like I really even had an idea of how to do these things correctly. So, I went with so much hopes that, okay, maybe I could do this. But then he just told me that, no, that women shouldn’t report things like this.

Even though the act had been passed, individual states needed to domesticate it and possibly engage in sensitization. But while LACVAW had publicly appreciated former Senator Aminu Tambuwal of Sokoto State for his help in getting the VAPP bill passed, it would take six more years of activism before the act would be domesticated in Sokoto. When the definitive wave of activism began, Yasmin was invested. 

For this, the #ArewaMeToo movement was instrumental. In 2019, two of its leaders, Hassana Maina and Sadiya Taheer, organized a standstill protest across nine northern states to induce state legislators to domesticate the act. To discredit the movement, rumours that it was an LGBTQ+ rally began to spread. The Sultan of Sokoto, Muhammadu Sa’ad Abubakar, banned the protest, the commissioner of police withdrew support, and various state actors in Sokoto decried the movement despite multiple clarifications of its purpose. Taheer said she heard one of the officers saying: ‘Look at her telling women to voice out when they’ve been raped, how can we allow for that? If it’s our sister, how can we marry her off when she’s voiced out that she’s been raped?’  

Despite her activism online, Yasmin was barred by her parents from going to the State House of Assembly, where the protest would be held on 03 December 2019. Taheer, who made it there with a small team of seven, was beaten and detained by the police. After this experience, Yasmin decided that she would no longer keep silent. Silence was a tool and an enabler.  

The next year, when a shopkeeper in the market groped her and solicited sex, she recorded the entire incident and went to the police with evidence. Unfortunately, she was turned away for the same reasons as before. According to her, the police said: ‘Why will you report this? You will drag your family’s name through the mud.’ 

In 2021, the VAPP act was finally domesticated in Sokoto State, providing women like Yasmin with multiple layers of protection against abusers. Now, it’s been one month since she got her protection order against Ahmed, and she has discovered the move to repeal the act. She said: 

Somehow, the men in my community have stopped making advances toward me. It’s just literally quietened around me. Men actually no longer spread rumours or lies or whatever they think about me, and it’s more of let’s just stay away from this person. I don’t want any issue with the court. The VAPP Act is something very dear to me. So I think it’s very horrible that a lawmaker could think of a repeal.

What will change if the VAPP act, which made Yasmin feel safer, is repealed and replaced? 

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THE ACT AND THE BILL: A COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS

‘Upon close scrutiny of the Act, it becomes obvious that it contains provisions that are inimical to the realization of its objectives.’ — Jibrin Isah (National Assembly, July 2024) 

In April 2022, Senator Isah submitted the bill to repeal and reenact the VAPP act. Borno and Taraba State had just domesticated the act, leaving Gombe, Zamfara, and Kano as the only states without a comprehensive law against violence, even though the incidence of rape in Nigeria was 65 per cent for women and 10 per cent for men. But Isah’s Bill didn’t make the news. Osinachi Nwachukwu, the famous gospel singer, had just died in Abuja, and Nigerians were consumed by stories from her family and friends on how the singer was heavily abused by her husband and manager, Peter Nwachukwu. Osinachi’s family maintained her death was a homicide.  

Osinachi allegedly suffered spousal battery (section 19), psychological abuse (section 14), and financial abuse (section 12) throughout the 16 years of her marriage. One friend, Ene Ogbe, claimed that Osinachi’s children had once watched their father push her out of the car. Their youngest son had told her his father was a pastor who taught him ‘beating women is good.’ The story ignited outrage with #JusticeforOsinachi trending on social media, inspiring a strong wave of activism against gender-based violence. The VAPP act is the most comprehensive body of laws that provides justice for women like Osinachi. It was two years later, in July 2024, that Senator Isah’s bill finally made news. It passed the second reading. Nigerian women, particularly, were shocked, confused, and angry.  

That same July, two incidents of violence engulfed public consciousness. Firstly, a senior policeman in Lagos State, simply identified as Officer Owolabi, was taken into custody for luring a 17-year-old complainant into his office under the guise of giving a progress report on her case and allegedly raped her. Secondly, students at the College of Medicine, University of Lagos (CMUL) protested the school’s inaction against the sexual harassment of its female students, which had caused Oluwagbemileke Otokiti, a 200-level student, to be fined N5,000 and be required to write apology letter by the student legislative council for being a repeat offender. Natasha Ashiru, who started the viral #EndSACultureinCMUL, was livid when she found out about the VAPP repeal. She said: 

When I heard about the repeal, I was very confused because there are 36 states in the country, not all of them have the Vapp Act in their law. I went to all of the media outlets, and all I was seeing was that he was trying to get it thrown out the window and not edited. I feel like if you take a look at the rising rate of femicide in Nigeria and crimes committed against women, a repeal shouldn’t be the first thought on your mind.

Senator Isah’s Bill is not seeking to merely repeal VAPP but to replace it. According to him, the ‘Bill for An Act to Eliminate Violence in Private and Public Life’ addresses problems in the VAPP act, such as inadequate punishments for offenders, limited scope of rape, support for victims, gender bias and legislative errors. However, after being presented with a comparative analysis of both laws, Nigerian women view the Bill with even greater suspicion.  

The figure below summarizes the key differences between both legislations: 

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Joan was in the middle of university clearance when she heard the news of the repeal. After considering the differences between the bill and act, she found that the bill contained a new section that effectively reduced the severity of the punishment for raping minors. She told me: 

Im not sure why they thought to differentiate by age, as if it makes a difference. Well, it would help the rapist because he knows he would get a lesser punishment if he went for an older minor. What’s the essence of differentiating by year if it’s the same offense. 

Under the bill, the punishment for raping an adult is a minimum of twelve years imprisonment. Yet, the maximum sentence for raping a 16-18-year-old is ten years. On the other hand, the definition of punishment for gang rape is strengthened in the bill. Also, the definition of rape is expanded beyond the previous designation of vagina, anus, and mouth to include penetration of any part of a persons body by anything. But could this mean if a persons ear is penetrated with a stick that they could prosecute for rape rather than physical injury? Hassana Maina, a lawyer believes intent will still determine how such actions are viewed. She told me that: 

Aside from the action, the judge will have to determine intent. This expanded definition is good because it means if someone does not get to the vagina, for instance, but penetrates a person’s thighs with the intention of rape, and there’s evidence, they can be prosecuted. 

However, for Maina, who also runs the Anti-Sexual Violence Lead Support Initiative (ASVIOL), the most concerning development in this bill is the Support of Violence Survivors Fund. The idea of a fund might be good, but the reality of a communal fund that receives every grant awarded for the support of survivors in Nigeria being completely controlled by the government is highly questionable. Non-governmental agencies like ASVIOL are the most active in supporting victims, and they will be affected. ‘We see how much government agencies want to clamp down on civil society, so anyone in NAPTIP can begin restricting funding regarding response and prevention of sexual gender-based violence,’ Maina said, ‘This is a very dangerous provision.’ 

Nigeria is notorious for fund misappropriation, bottleneck bureaucracies and inefficient processes. If a government agency removes independent funding for non-governmental agencies, it would mean fewer services for victims. Maina maintains that this is already the government’s legacy. She said: 

Let’s not forget that the 2015 VAPP acts implementation has largely been done by donor funding. I hear the Nana Khadijah Centre is shutting down because the Sokoto State government is not funding it. The agreement with the European Union was that they would fund it for three years, and afterward, the government would take over. The government is not taking over. And what about the sexual assault centres that the 2015 bill had provided for? Do we have them in all states? Are they properly funded? Are they properly staffed? These are the things that legislators should busy themselves about. How can we ensure that the provisions of these laws are implemented? How can we ensure that we can strengthen these provisions? 

Hadiza Abubakar from the Nana Khadija Centre* in Sokoto confirmed the situation. ‘We have many survivors,’ she said, ‘and we don’t know what to do with them. There is only one doctor left volunteering. The government is supposed to be funding this.’ 

Therefore, unlike Yasmin, survivors who have not found access to high-ranking state actors would have to jump more hurdles to reach justice after overcoming shame and silence. Additionally, access to immediate response could be delayed for any survivor due to a lack of availability. However, for many women, the bill’s impact is more than the direct consequences of the definitions and penalties it contains; it is about the use of political performance to erase the efforts of women. 

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WHAT THE BILL MEANS TO WOMEN: MORE PERFORMANCE, NO RECOGNITION

Before the National Assembly, Senator Isah presented the VAPP as gender-biased toward women and somewhat deceitful. In his words:

In the face of opposition to its obvious gender-biased nature, the promoters renamed it, tinkered with some of its provisions, introduced seemingly gender-neutral language, and successfully obtained its passage.  

While the act uses masculine and feminine or gender-neutral pronouns in describing crime and punishment, statistical trends prove that women in Nigeria are significantly more likely to be victims of violence than men. Reducing the overall incidence was the original incentive of LACVAW. Therefore, many women sense an intention of erasure within the choice to repeal rather than amend the act. Maina said: 

Why can’t it be amended? As a lawyer, I know for you to repeal an act, you’re saying that it’s not good at all. I think part of my argument against Senator Jibrin is the condescension with which he spoke about the 2015 VAPP act. He did not even acknowledge the work that people have been doing. So you begin to wonder, if this person is not mischievous, what is all this about? I think I would like to add that perhaps he’s looking for, you know, something to make him popular. 

A repeal would peel away history and paint over it. An erasure of firstly, the 14 years of women-led organizing by Charmaine Pereira Saudati Mahdi, and Saudati Sani, who pushed for its original passing, and then an erasure of the six extra years it took activists like Taheer, Maina and survivors like Yasmin who pushed for its domestication in Sokoto.  

For Ashiru, Isah’s move reveals a general inclination toward the erasure of women’s voices rather than amplification or paying proactive attention, and this underscores the reasons women, especially survivors, are not bold enough to seek justice in the first place. She said: 

I still stand behind the fact that you should not repeal the VAPP act. You can only appeal for its amendment. The ripple of this is going to place women all over Nigeria, where women of CMUL are right now, in a place where it seems like you can get justice, but at the highest point where you’re supposed to get justice, nothing is going to be done. 

Consequently, many women see the repeal and reenactment not as a development with the intention of safeguarding people, especially women, but as a calculated move to take credit for the extensive work done and funded by the actions of women. Shalom, a feminist and writer, said: 

The choice to repeal rather than amend does feel like an acutely intentional erasure of the hard-won gains women have fought for over the years. Amending the law would at least acknowledge that it’s part of a larger history of progress in addressing gender-based violence in Nigeria. But a full repeal essentially wipes out that history, as if the efforts of women, activists, and organizations who pushed for this legislation never mattered. It sends a message that our victories can be undone without consequence, without accountability; it disregards the years of work and sacrifice that went into securing these protections in the first place. 

The claimed benevolent intentions fall short, considering that the punishments for five crimes, including Political Violence and Violence by State Actors, were not increased in the new bill. Thelma, a young business owner in Anambra passionate about women’s rights, told me, ‘I think it’s in their best interest to refuse to strengthen the punishment against them, seeing that they may be offenders themselves or their friends and allies.’  

Other crimes like stalking, which also predominantly affect Nigerian women, did not have their sentences or fines increased. Chisom, a medical doctor based in Jos, told me that, ‘it tends to take away the seriousness of those horrible crimes which have the potential to become very violent.’ 

Following the second passing of the bill, it was referred to the Committee on Judiciary, Human Rights, and Legal Matters for a report by 20 August 2024. Till date, no news on the report has been shared. Meanwhile, local and international pressure continues to mount against the bill, not so much for its content but for the method: a repeal

*Yasmin Bello–name altered to maintain anonymity.

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