“Women belong in the kitchen”—once a misogynistic jab—has found itself reborn in African discourse, not as an insult but as an accidental prophecy. The phrase, notoriously ripples by President Muhammadu Buhari in 2016, triggered a global backlash when he remarked that his wife “belongs in the kitchen, the living room and the other room.” But nearly a decade later, what was once used to cage women is now being weaponized for liberation. Kitchens across Nigeria have become altars of innovation, breeding ground for resilience, and surprisingly, a theatre of political preparation. It is from this once-dismissed space that leaders like Honourable Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan , the most frustrated senator in 2025 are rising—not in spite of the kitchen, but with the grace and grit it taught them.
Natasha Uduaghan, now a senator and a symbol of courage in Kogi politics, once told a gathering of women in Lokoja, “I learned discipline, patience, and strategy from my mother’s kitchen. But I refused to remain there.” Her words are not rebellion; they are redemption. She represents a generation of Nigerian women who took the heat of domestic expectation and turned it into political firepower. From the kitchen, Natasha cooked up a vision that would shake political structures in a patriarchal region, defying not just men but also systems that believed power could not wear gele. The same woman mocked for being “just a woman” in campaigns now chairs critical Senate discussions and champions bills for economic inclusion.
President Buhari’s defenders still argue he was “joking” or “culturally situated.” But public memory is not so forgetful. “He meant no harm,” one northern elder told Channels TV, “our wives know we value them.” Yet, that same brand of love can be smothering when it refuses to evolve. “Love without respect is tyranny in wrapper,” Natasha once said during her 2023 campaign. And she wasn’t merely campaigning; she was confronting the ghosts of Buhari’s words with every community she empowered. That is the irony—what was meant to silence women has birthed louder, more effective voices. The kitchen didn’t kill them. It trained them.
Reactions to this awakening are as complex as the culture that shaped them. Feminist scholars like Aisha Yesufu insist, “We must never romanticize the kitchen. It’s okay to start there, but don’t chain women to it.” On social media, tags like #FromKitchenToCabinet and #NatashaEffect are trending. Even Pastor Paul Enenche of Dunamis International Gospel Centre weighed in recently, saying, “The Proverbs 31 woman was not just a cook—she was an empire builder.” The Nigerian kitchen is no longer a passive space; it’s an ignition chamber. Honourable Natasha, Hilda Baci, and thousands of others have proven that leadership can rise from the most unlikely ovens.
This cultural redefinition carries spiritual undertones too. Bishop Oyedepo once proclaimed, “When destiny is stirred from a place of humility, it becomes unstoppable.” That humility is found in flour-covered aprons, tearful onions, and midnight hustles over kerosene stoves. Natasha’s rise, like that of biblical Esther, came from learning silence—but not staying silent. She entered the palace not just with perfume, but with purpose. In a society that still debates whether women should speak, cook, or lead, she is doing all three. And doing them well.
So yes, maybe women do belong in the kitchen—but not because men say so. They belong there because they choose to, because they’ve made it a launchpad and not a life sentence. And when they leave, they’re not just stepping out—they’re stepping up. Honourable Natasha Uduaghan is proof: the kitchen may be where they started, but it’s certainly not where they end.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
08152094428 (SMS Only)
