When WikkiTimes reporter Victoria Ogechukwu sought budget documents in Bauchi, the agency chairman first offered to give her cash, then a hotel room. “He kept asking how much I would accept per night,” she recalled.
“I am used to these advances. It has made me uncomfortable with meeting sources at their offices for interviews. I insist on phone interviews most of the time,” she said.
Sometime last year, Ogechukwu visited an organisation in Bauchi (name withheld) to get some data for her report. After multiple trips to the office, she was finally allowed to speak to their Chairman, who agreed to grant an interview. But what started as sharing information through journalistic engagement ended in offering bribes and sexual advances.
She took the data only after refusing the advances and insisting on future phone interviews to stay safe.
“He told me to come into his office. He tried giving me money at first, but I declined, informing him it is against my professional ethics. Then he started talking about how if I weren’t a journalist, he would have had me for the night.” Ogechukwu was livid with anger, but she was desperate to get that information.
“I had a similar experience at a ministry in Bauchi. I had to lie that I was married to save myself because I realised people respect marriage a lot,” she added.
In 2023, Ogechukwu reported on a story about budget allocation, in which a former Senator in Plateau State carried out a project to build a town hall in a different community, rather than where it was initially proposed to be built. “I interviewed the senator when I was doing the report, but after it was published, some people who claimed to be the Senator’s boys threatened me, saying I have been paid to make their senator look bad and that God will punish me and I won’t go scott free.” she recounted.
Other Reporters’ Tales
Like Ogechukwu’s story, another WikkiTimes rookie, Hafsah Muhammed, learned early how swiftly official pushback can escalate. After her story criticised police social-media silence, the spokesman bombarded her with eight missed calls, menacing texts and a promise to “find” her; she now blocks his number and interviews officers by SMS.
“I received eight missed calls on my phone from the spokesperson minutes after my editor published the report. The frequency of calls panicked me, and I reported to my Editor, who asked me to call the officer back.
“Before I could call back, I started receiving a series of text messages from him accusing me of publishing false claims about the Police command. One of the text messages said he would find me, a direct threat to me”, Hafsat recalled.
“That experience always made me feel anxious when contacting any Police Officer. I had to fight it, but it took a while,” she added.
Recounting her second narrative, Hafsah was aboard a tricycle on her way to the Civil Service Commission in Gombe to submit an FOI letter when some machete-wielding thugs waylaid the tricycle in a robbery attempt. Just before the 2023 general elections, the thugs campaigned for a major presidential candidate.
“Luckily, we narrowly escaped as the tricycle driver deftly drove away from the scene while we watched others being robbed,” she said.
Hafsah asserted that her unpleasant encounters can be seen as part of the journey, especially as an investigative journalist. She remains resilient and strong in her efforts to hold those in power accountable.
“Investigative journalism is not for the weak. I have witnessed my superiors within the newsroom go through worse experiences and emerge stronger and better. I feel honoured to be part of this team. It’s a circle of brave journalists.”
Under the dim rain of an election day, Bolanle Olabimtan found herself surrounded by hostile men. “They came and took my phone, went through my private chats… They threatened me, and this was under the rain, and I was shivering,” recounts Olabimtan, a reporter with TheCable
She was one of at least five female journalists attacked while covering Nigeria’s 2023 elections, her phone confiscated and footage deleted by political thugs. Olabimtan’s ordeal is part of a disturbing pattern: from physical assaults in the field to sexual coercion in newsrooms and vicious cyberbullying online, Nigerian women journalists are under siege.
Even routine assignments can turn violent. At the 2021 #EndSARS memorial, Adefemi Akinsanya of Arise TV was filmed shielding her crew from officers intent on seizing their drone. She still weeps recalling an officer’s rifle inches from her chest: “Get away from me,” she pleaded on camera.
Workplace abuse remains rampant. Fauziya Lawal-Dawai, a contract announcer at Katsina State Radio, says a decade of sexual harassment ended with her sudden dismissal in November 2023; the station blamed a missed meeting, while NAWOJ called the sacking retaliation, and Katsina’s governor ordered an inquiry.
Abuja TV presenter Khadija Musa (pseudonym) described a boss who piled extra chores on her, publicly berated her, and erupted when she declined weekend errands, forcing her eventual transfer and near exit from journalism.
In Kano, senior editors told veteran broadcaster Khadija Abdullahi that she appeared in the spotlight “too often.” “Does it always have to be Khadija?” she overheard before self-doubt and cyber-abuse pushed her off flagship programmes.
“I became used to doing roles that were expected to be carried out by him. I was overworked. Subsequently, I realised he was only using me to achieve his interest,” she narrated.
“One day, I came to the office on a day off to finish up some tasks, and he asked me to do something for him, and I declined. I said no, today is my day off, and I only came at will. He suddenly started screaming and hurling insults at me. I had to report him to the management, and my department was changed. But even at that, he later kept bad-mouthing me to whoever cared to listen,” she said.
The devastating experience significantly reduced her productivity, leading to poor morale and, ultimately, a complete break from her career as a journalist.
“My advice to any female journalist out here facing any kind of harassment as such; don’t let anybody clip your wings or cripple you. Do not give room for manipulation,” she advised.
Behind beautiful journalistic stories across newsrooms are journalists who dare to report what happens in their surroundings. Women are becoming more prevalent in the newsroom, reporting daily happenings in society, including sourcing the news. In doing their reportorial work, female journalists face multiple challenges by virtue of their biological makeup.
More women are emerging in the workforce across sectors in Nigeria every day, but despite advocating for laws to protect them, they often battle harassment, intimidation, and stigmatisation. According to the World Bank, women will account for 48.4% of the workforce in Nigeria in 2024, implying a significant participation of women in the workforce.
Online Abuse: The New Battleground
Away from the streets, Nigerian women journalists are fighting “hidden battles” online, facing torrents of cyber-abuse that can be as vicious as any physical attack.
Social media has become a hotbed of targeted harassment, where female reporters who speak truth to power are bombarded with misogynistic slurs, doctored images, and even death threats. “Online harassment has been a growing concern,” notes Voice of Nigeria, “and the discriminatory culture present within society has led to increased online attacks against women journalists.”
These digital assaults often spike when women cover traditionally “male” beats like politics, corruption or conflict. For example, female investigative journalists who expose wrongdoing have been doxxed by partisan trolls, their personal information spread online to incite fear.
Sexist trolls routinely question women’s competence, attacking their appearance or marital status instead of their reporting. Credible data show that the majority of Nigerian women journalists have endured some form of online violence. In a global UNESCO-ICFJ study that included Nigeria, 73% of surveyed female journalists said they had experienced online abuse ranging from insults to threats.
Alarming proportions faced explicit dangers: 25% received threats of physical violence and 18% were threatened with sexual violence as a result of their reporting. Disturbingly, about 1 in 5 women (20%) said online attacks had escalated into offline harassment or abuse, blurring the line between virtual and physical danger.
These findings echo the experiences of journalists like Kiki Mordi, who after reporting on sexual predation in universities, was subjected to coordinated online smear campaigns painting her as untrustworthy – an attempt to discredit her revelations. CFWIJ points out that story themes linked to women’s rights or government wrongdoing often trigger orchestrated trolling, frequently with political actors quietly fueling the attacks.
In Nigeria’s polarised online space, women journalists covering elections or human rights have seen their comment sections flooded with rape threats and hateful epithets, all aimed at silencing their voices through fear. The impact is profound. Several prominent female reporters have withdrawn from social media or toned down their reporting to preserve their mental health.
“About 40 percent of women journalists have avoided reporting certain stories to evade online harassment,” a global study noted, illustrating the chilling effect.
Those who persist often beef up personal security or seek psychological counselling to cope with relentless abuse. The mental toll – anxiety, depression, even PTSD – can be devastating. “I haven’t watched the video [of my assault] in years… it’s quite traumatic,” admits Adefemi Akinsanya, who also faced online vitriol after standing up to police. For younger women journalists, the digital onslaught can be especially harsh as an entry into the profession. Yet many continue to press forward, displaying resilience even as they call for stronger protections in cyberspace.
Breaking Barriers Amid Stigma, Stereotypes, and Harassment
For over a decade, Khadija Abdullahi carved a place for herself in northern Nigeria’s broadcast journalism scene, defying a deeply patriarchal newsroom culture. Yet, her rise wasn’t without pain.
From the onset, family disapproval shadowed her career. “They felt the exposure that came with the job wasn’t meant for women,” she told WikkiTimes.
Within a year, her confidence faltered as male colleagues viewed her growing visibility as a threat. In one instance, after a board meeting, she overheard seniors plotting to push her out of the spotlight. “They felt I was always in the spotlight, and it shouldn’t be so. That particular incident broke me. I felt I was the problem; maybe I was taking one too many steps at a time. It took a lot of counselling to redeem my self-confidence,” she said.
Online, the attacks continued. Inappropriate messages and sexualized compliments about her voice disrupted her on-air focus. Eventually, she stepped down from anchoring shows that triggered such reactions. Still, Khadija remained undeterred, urging women journalists to maintain professionalism and integrity. “There are people out there waiting to take advantage of you as a woman. It is left to you to decide whether to maintain your integrity as a woman or otherwise, for worldly gains.”
Hadiza Musa Yusuf, an investigative journalist, encountered similar abuse in 2021. An elderly source in Kano’s civil service repeatedly dodged her interview requests. When she returned alone the next day, he proposed to her instead of answering questions. “Hard as I tried, he avoided my questions on the report and diverted the conversation, complimenting how pretty I was and my willingness to be his girlfriend…I was shocked because this man was obviously in his 60s. I eventually had to give up the interview”
For Sadia Adamu (not her real name), gender and ethnic bias were daily realities. Newly hired at a television station, she noticed how the newsroom’s default greeting—”Gentlemen of the press”—excluded her. Her editor, a middle-aged man, routinely dismissed her work while making stereotypical assumptions based on her background. When she requested to host a male-led show that had run for 12 years, her boldness was met with resistance. She was told as a woman; she can’t do it. She persisted, broke the barrier, and was finally recognised, though the applause felt forced.
Over time, more women joined the newsroom, slightly easing the discrimination. But another challenge lingered: sexual harassment. Editors often tied professional opportunities to personal favours. Sadia’s refusal to compromise left her isolated, as silence became her only survival tactic.
These stories echo a larger problem. Most of the incidents remain unreported, creating space for more abuses to thrive unchecked. A 2020 study by UNESCO and the International Center for Journalists found that 73% of 714 female journalists globally had experienced online harassment. About 30% censored themselves, 25% reported the abuse, and 20% withdrew from online spaces entirely. Alarmingly, 20% faced real-world attacks as a result of online threats.
Such statistics emphasise the need for institutional action. Newsrooms must implement clear policies to protect women, encourage them to report abuse, and hold perpetrators accountable. Legal and educational tools can also offer recourse.
Dr. Ruqayya Yusuf Aliyu, a scholar and former journalist, believes both policy and personal conduct matter. “It is obvious that female journalists most often face harassment outside the newsroom, especially. They need to improve in conducting themselves responsibly and professionally to avoid being taken advantage of.
“There should be policies that cater for them to protect them from such vices. Measures should be taken to protect them against such scenarios”, she said.
Bauchi-based lawyer, Barrister Maryam Zailani, adds that legal redress is possible. “Section 42 of the Nigerian constitution clearly states that no gender should be discriminated against. People need to be aware of the consequences attached to harassment or intimidation,” she said.
Experts agree: protection should go beyond reacting to abuse. Mentorship, strong newsroom policies, and active legal enforcement are essential. For northern Nigeria’s female journalists, the road is steep—but resilience and reform can make it safer.
This report is produced by WikkiTimes in collaboration with the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID) as part of a project documenting issues focused on press freedom in Nigeria.
