Across campuses, street corners and social media timelines, a disturbing trend is gathering momentum: young women brutalising, stripping, poisoning, and in some cases, killing other women over male lovers. The violence is visceral, the humiliation often filmed and shared, and the scars deep. In this report, GODFREY GEORGE explores how romantic rivalry, toxic patriarchy, digital sensationalism, and a failing justice system are colliding to create a subculture of female-on-female violence
It began with whispers. Then it spread like wildfire through the campus of the Ogun State Institute of Technology, Igbesa.
In a video that surfaced online in early June 2025, a young woman, said to be a student of the institution, is seen writhing on the floor, shielding her head as long, muscular canes lash her body without mercy.
The attackers are not hired thugs or cult members but her fellow female students.
Their rage was neither spontaneous nor restrained. It was cold and calculated. One of them, identified in the video as Lolade, led the charge with confidence and a chilling sense of purpose.
Ignoring pleas from onlookers, she declared, “Our mothers know what we’re doing. We don’t care who she tells.”
This was not merely an ambush; it was a public execution of sorts, carried out in daylight, cameras rolling, for reasons rooted in one claim: that the victim had ‘snatched’ someone’s boyfriend.
By the time the assault ended, the young woman’s back and scalp bore raw, angry welts. She was bruised, broken and humiliated.
The video, shared and reshared online, sparked widespread outrage, but also revealed a darker, more disturbing undercurrent: a wave of comments that rationalised the brutality.
“Serves her right,” one commenter said. “Girls don too dey overdo,” said another.
In a society where male infidelity is often normalised and female rivalry weaponised, this incident offers a harsh reflection of the layered violence women sometimes direct at one another, not in protest of injustice, but in defence of patriarchal power dynamics disguised as love.
The Ogun State Police Command has since confirmed that it is investigating the matter, with the Divisional Police Officer of Igbesa said to have taken over the case.
But justice, if it ever comes, cannot erase what the images already seared into public memory: a young woman cornered by her peers, beaten not for a crime, but for choosing, or being chosen.
And all of it, heartbreakingly, in the name of a man.
Mother-daughter hotel fight that shook Nigeria
In the dim lighting of a hotel room somewhere in Nigeria’s capital, two women lunge at each other: slaps, shouts, sobs echoing off tiled walls.
One is visibly older, her voice steeped in bitterness. The other, younger, teary-eyed, was on her knees. Between them stands a man, silent, helpless, unsure which side to hold.
“She’s my daughter,” the older woman yells, her hands raised not to embrace, but to strike. “She wants to take the man I love.”
The daughter’s response is buried under tears. “Mummy, please… I didn’t mean to”
But the blows came anyway.
This wasn’t Nollywood. This wasn’t fiction. This was reality, captured by a guest in the adjacent room who, unable to sleep through the din, began recording.
What was captured was not merely scandalous. It was soul-crushing: a mother and daughter, ravished by the same man.
By the next day, the video had gone viral. Nigerians across platforms were stunned, confused, and angered. Was this real? Could a mother truly attack her daughter over a romantic partner? Was this desperation, mental illness, or simply the twisted shape of love in a society increasingly consumed by transactional relationships?
Some speculated it was not a biological relationship but a “business”, a term that has become code for female sex workers who present as familial units to protect each other in brothel-like environments.
Others insisted it was genuine. Either way, the public consensus settled on one unsettling truth: whatever the nature of their bond, it had been violently severed in full view of the world.
The man at the centre of the fracas remains faceless, nameless, and silent.
OOU students trade blows over boyfriend
Within the hallowed walls of Olabisi Onabanjo University, a place meant to cultivate knowledge and aspiration, two young women found themselves locked in a very different kind of lesson: one about heartbreak, betrayal, and public humiliation.
The video, blurry but unmistakably raw, captures the fight: two students, one shouting, the other clawing, locked in a vicious struggle on school grounds.
A crowd gathers. The cameras roll. One girl accuses the other of seducing her boyfriend under the pretext of “marketing a product.”
Whether it was perfume or pain relievers, no one recalls. What everyone remembers is the rage, sharp, unfiltered, female rage.
By the end, dignity lay scattered on the pavement, alongside a torn wig and a cracked phone screen.
Lagos girls strip to scars over man
Two women, one man, and a story as old as time, but retold in the rawest, most embarrassing of ways: on camera, before a crowd, and without shame.
Shewa wore black. Biola, pink. They had once called each other best friends, perhaps even sisters, until love, or whatever was left of it, got in the way.
It is said that Biola abandoned her boyfriend when his pockets ran dry. And like clockwork, Shewa stepped in, filled the girlfriend void, and stood by him until his fortunes changed. Love, loyalty, or strategy?
Now that the man was “buoyant,” as the rumour mill spun it, Biola returned, accusing Shewa of betrayal. The confrontation that followed was anything but civil.
According to an eyewitness, “They fought like Floyd Mayweather and Manny Pacquiao.” Before long, one of them was stark naked.
The video, now deleted from Instagram due to guideline violations, drew thousands of comments from disbelieving Nigerians. While some laughed, others lamented, calling the girls out to do better.
Girl flogged, strip friend over boyfriend
In the fading light of a Calabar evening in August 2024, a hotel room became the theatre for a crime of betrayal, rage, and public humiliation.
A young woman known online as “Pretty Goddess” had invited her friend, “Debit Queen,” for what was supposed to be a casual house party. Instead, it became a premeditated trap. one now etched in digital permanence.
Debit Queen walked into that room alone. She walked out bloodied, bruised, and stripped of her dignity.
Videos of what followed have shaken Nigeria’s digital conscience. In one of the viral clips, Pretty Goddess, not her real name still unknown, can be seen flogging Debit Queen with a thick cane.
Four women surround the victim. No one intervenes. No one speaks up. There is only the rhythmic slap of cane on skin and the occasional hiss of fury.
Then, the ultimate cruelty: Debit Queen is stripped naked, her humiliation captured in full and uploaded onto social media, where it circulated for over 48 hours on X (formerly Twitter). The images and clips, many blurred by bloggers but still recognisably graphic, drew a flood of condemnation from enraged users.
One viral comment read, “Even if there were five of them, I’d stand up to them. This is unacceptable.” Another said, “She needs to be arrested for such an act.” And yet another: “The fact that someone can record this and still upload it shows how far gone we are.”
But what pushed this feud beyond the bounds of private confrontation?
At the heart of the saga lies Ralph, a boyfriend, barely seen, barely heard from, but apparently central to Pretty Goddess’s fury.
According to her version of events, she had checked Ralph’s phone and found chats with Debit Queen. She accused her friend of betrayal, of sleeping with her partner, and, in a fit of jealousy, orchestrated the meeting at a hotel to “confront” her.
Debit Queen, speaking days after the ordeal from a hospital bed in Calabar, denied everything. “She said there was a party,” she said in a video posted by a popular blog on X. “When I arrived, she began beating me. There were four girls in the room. There was nothing I could do. She was with her friends, and I was alone.”
Her voice trembled through the recounting. “I know him, but I’m not his friend. I didn’t sleep with him.”
In an astonishing turn, Pretty Goddess later admitted to luring Debit Queen under false pretences. She claimed she didn’t plan the attack; it was simply “anger.” She apologised publicly, pledging to make amends. “Please, find a place in your heart to forgive me,” she begged.
But forgiveness, in this case, may not be hers to claim.
The Cross River State Police, acting under the directive of Commissioner Augustine Grimah, have launched a full investigation. Debit Queen remains under medical care. The hotel management is under scrutiny. And authorities have vowed that justice will be served.
“We urge hotels to conduct background checks on guests to prevent such incidents,” the police spokesperson, Iren Ugbo, said in a statement.
But there are deeper questions beyond the legalities: Why has female-on-female violence, particularly over romantic partners, become so disturbingly common in Nigeria’s digital age? Why does humiliation now come with a hashtag?
The law is clear. Under the Criminal Code applicable in Southern Nigeria, any act of physical violence or unlawful use of force can constitute common assault or, if injury results, assault occasioning harm. Legal experts, such as human rights lawyer Mrs Selena Onuoha, say this case fits squarely within that framework.
“Even if no visible injury is present, the act of undressing someone and using force is already assault,” she noted.
“But beyond the courtroom, society must now reckon with what it has seen. Violence is being repackaged as content. Humiliation is trending. And the line between online cruelty and offline brutality grows thinner with each passing day.
“There is no justification for what was done to Debit Queen. And no apology, no matter how viral, can undo the scars now carried in body and memory,” says human rights lawyer Rowland Ibekwe.
‘Leave my boyfriend alone’
It was a bright afternoon at the University of Cross River State, Calabar campus, until it wasn’t.
Along the stony path that leads from the old Mass Communication block to the Department of Urban and Regional Planning, a storm was brewing. And when it broke, it left students and faculty in stunned disbelief. Two female undergraduates launched at each other with such brute force, they upended what should have been an ordinary academic day.
In a grainy video now circulating on social media, the women are seen grappling, slapping, and crashing against the flowerbed lining the walkway. Their screams punctuate the scene as bystanders attempt to pull them apart, some with mild concern, others with the idle curiosity that so often greets public brawls in Nigerian universities.
At the centre of the chaos, as rumour has it, is a man. A boyfriend, either shared, snatched, or speculated. The alleged cause of the fight remains unconfirmed. But in the court of campus whispers, the verdict was swift: it was a lover’s war.
The incident, which occurred in September 2023, has sparked renewed conversation about the growing trend of public altercations among young women, particularly within Nigeria’s tertiary institutions. Many observers have expressed concern that these acts of violence, often over romantic interests, have become not just embarrassing but habitual.
At the time of filing this report, neither the identities of the students involved nor the mysterious man at the heart of the feud had been officially confirmed. UNICROSS management has also remained tight-lipped, offering no public statement or disciplinary update.
Still, the video lingers online, a permanent mark on the reputation of an institution striving to project excellence. And as the dust settles on the walkway-turned-ring, the deeper question remains unanswered: What happened to dignity?
Ogun woman strips husband’s ex-lover, inserts bottle in private part
What began as a call for an “important discussion” quickly spiralled into a theatre of horror in the quiet Lusada area of Ogun State.
At its centre: a 20-year-old woman, a bottle of Alomo Bitters, a vengeful wife, and a husband torn between cruelty and complicity.
The victim, whose name is withheld for privacy, told police that she had received a call from her former lover, Osas Onyekwena. He sounded sincere, urgent, even. So, she made her way to the agreed-upon meeting point. But when she arrived, it wasn’t just Osas waiting. His wife, Tomisin Onyeokweni, was there too. And they had a plan.
The couple lured her into an unfinished building. There, Tomisin produced a pair of scissors, used them to tear the young woman’s clothes, and stripped her naked. With Osas allegedly holding the woman down, Tomisin proceeded to insert an empty bitter drink bottle into her private part, an act of sheer savagery.
As if that wasn’t enough, they photographed the abuse and threatened to release the images online should she dare speak up.
But she did.
Shaken, violated, and stripped of her dignity, the woman made her way to the Agbara Divisional Police Headquarters.
The Divisional Police Officer, SP Dahiru Saleh, immediately swung into action. The couple were arrested. They confessed. And suddenly, this grotesque scene became national news.
Police spokesperson, SP Abimbola Oyeyemi, confirmed the details in a statement. He noted that while the suspects expressed “regret,” their actions are being treated with the seriousness they deserve.
“The Commissioner of Police, Kenneth Ebrimson, has directed that the suspects be charged in court as soon as the investigation is concluded,” Oyeyemi said.
But beyond the criminal charges lies a societal wound. What kind of rage drives a woman to orchestrate such bodily violation? What toxic narratives about “ownership” and “betrayal” fuel these acts of violence between women?
In Nigeria’s criminal justice system, this isn’t just assault; it borders on sexual violence. And it raises crucial questions about the intersection of love, vengeance, and brutality in relationships where consent and dignity have long ceased to matter.
For the young woman caught in this nightmare, no amount of regret or remorse can undo the trauma.
And for a society still grappling with how to process such acts, the time for conversations is now.
For the love of Saheed
At 6:30 a.m. on November 13, 2018, the quiet hum of early morning in Limelite Hall, Olabisi Onabanjo University, Ogun State, was violently interrupted by the rage of young women at war.
At the heart of the chaos was a young lady named Blessing. Their target was Bolu, a fellow student and erstwhile confidante, who now stood accused of a grievous betrayal: sleeping with Blessing’s boyfriend, Saheed.
What began, allegedly, as a simple business interaction, Bolu marketing her wares to Saheed, had, according to Blessing, turned into something far more intimate.
The claim? That Bolu had used the pretext of sales to seduce the man she called her own. And if that weren’t enough, Blessing alleged that one of those trysts took place on her bed.
Bolu denied the multiple encounters but admitted to one. It did little to calm the storm.
That morning, armed not with weapons but with righteous fury, Blessing led her squad to Bolu’s room. The door was broken. She was dragged outside, and a brutal confrontation ensued.
News of the incident swept through campus like wildfire. Some said it was shameful. Others watched with voyeuristic intrigue, many capturing footage that quickly found its way to social media.
As is often the case in such sagas, commentary flooded in, some mocking, others mourning the erosion of sisterhood in a setting meant for academic pursuit.
Those who didn’t live to tell the story
In Nigeria, romantic rivalry and partner disputes have increasingly escalated from simple arguments or public fights into deadly encounters.
The phenomenon of women fighting women over men—and sometimes men fighting men over women- is no longer just a spectacle for social media or a footnote in community gossip.
It is, in many cases, a matter of life and death.
Recent news reports and journalistic investigations paint a worrying picture of how intimate partner jealousy can end in fatal violence.
In 2015, a chilling case from Bauchi State revealed how a simple quarrel between two women over a man turned into a tragedy. Twenty-eight-year-old Iklima Alhassan was murdered by another woman, Fatima Baba Isa, after a physical confrontation over their mutual involvement with the same man.
Witnesses told police that the altercation became violent quickly. Iklima never recovered. Fatima was arrested and charged with murder, but the damage had already been done: a life had been lost over a man.
Elsewhere in Osun State, a long-standing rivalry between two cult groups reached a climax in 2015 when three members were killed. The cause? A dispute over a woman.
What began as a romantic triangle quickly turned into a bloodbath. Such scenarios reveal how, even within violent subcultures, women can become the symbolic flashpoints for masculine dominance and aggression.
Beyond individual cases, the numbers are sobering. In just the first six months of 2020, Nigerian police records indicate that over 40 women died in incidents directly linked to domestic and romantic conflict.
More recently, in February 2024, there were reports that 26 women were murdered and five were disfigured due to partner-related violence within just four months. Many of these cases involved suspicions of cheating or betrayal.
Civil society groups tracking gender-based violence estimate that two dozen women have died in early 2025 alone from similar causes.
What makes these statistics even more disturbing is the casualness with which society often responds.
Online platforms overflow with videos of women tearing out each other’s hair, slapping one another in public, or ambushing each other in schools or hotels—all because of a shared lover.
These videos are often laced with laughter, emojis, and shallow commentary.
But behind every slap or fist is a broken mental state, a society desensitised to violence, and an undercurrent of psychological insecurity.
Weapon use in these scenarios is not uncommon. In some reported cases, knives, glass bottles, and even petrol have been used in altercations.
These are not mere fights; they are torture sessions born out of rage, trauma, and warped notions of loyalty and possession.
Perhaps the saddest layer to this crisis is the lack of awareness and preventative interventions.
Nigerian law criminalises assault and battery under the Criminal and Penal Codes, but arrests are often rare unless videos go viral.
The social pressure on women to secure and keep romantic partners at all costs—even to the detriment of their own mental and physical well-being, continues to fuel this cycle.
At the heart of these cases is a patriarchal society that treats romantic relationships as trophies.
In many cases, men face little to no consequence; the blame, humiliation, and physical toll fall on the women.
The tragic irony is that while women are attacking each other, the men at the centre of these altercations remain free, unbothered, or even flattered.
Growing trend with consequences
This growing trend has far-reaching consequences. It destabilises communities, distorts young people’s understanding of love and loyalty, and contributes to the overall climate of insecurity.
Even worse, some of these incidents escalate to the point where a grieving family is left to bury a daughter or sister who simply wanted love or justice.
Experts have said that urgent intervention is required.
Schools and universities must introduce relationship management and conflict resolution as part of student counselling programmes.
Mental health services must be better funded and normalised, especially for young people.
“Law enforcement must treat such altercations as serious criminal acts, not mere ‘catfights.’ Community leaders, religious groups, and parents must also speak out against this culture of jealousy and possession.
“Jealousy is human. But when it becomes a trigger for humiliation, trauma, or death, society must draw a line. Nigeria is already grappling with insecurity in the form of terrorism, kidnapping, and armed robbery.
“The last thing the nation needs is for love to become yet another weapon of destruction,” says security consultant, Jackson Lekan-Ojo.
Understanding the rise
In recent months, Nigerian media have been awash with increasingly disturbing stories: women publicly flogging rivals, teenage girls baiting and ambushing peers, wives stripping their husbands’ ex-lovers naked, and even mothers and daughters fighting each other over the same man.
What was once viewed as a private, even whispered, affair is now played out with violent fervour on social media timelines.
The question many are asking is: Why is this happening, and why now?
Cultural constructs, internalised patriarchy
At the heart of this troubling trend lies Nigeria’s deeply patriarchal society, where women are often socialised from a young age to see each other as rivals in the pursuit of male attention, approval, and economic security.
From folklore to Nollywood, the motif of women fighting over men has long been normalised.
According to sociologist Chika Okoye, in a 2022 article, the cultural belief that a woman’s success or value is tied to her ability to keep a man fuels competition and, by extension, aggression between women.
In an environment where economic opportunities are limited and women are still fighting for equality, romantic relationships are often seen not just as emotional pursuits, but as survival strategies.
Economic desperation, romantic capital
Nigeria’s economic downturn has further weaponised romance. In a context where unemployment and inflation rates remain at record highs, according to a 2023 World Bank report, young women often view romantic partnerships as a pathway to financial support.
This phenomenon, described by Duru and Ogbonna (2021) as “romantic capital accumulation,” sees relationships with men, especially those perceived to be affluent, as status symbols and economic lifelines.
Thus, losing a partner to another woman is not just a blow to the heart, but also to one’s financial and social stability. The response has increasingly taken violent form.
Social media, spectacle, and validation
The rise of social media has exacerbated these tensions. Platforms like TikTok, Instagram, and X (formerly Twitter) reward spectacle.
Videos of women fighting over men go viral, attracting likes, shares, and engagement.
As sociologist Tolu Esho notes in the African Journal of Media and Society, there is an emerging class of users who use “public humiliation content” to gain visibility.
This creates a performative layer, where private grievances are settled in public not just for vengeance but for validation. The line between justice and content creation has been erased.
Conflict mediation, whether through family elders, religious leaders, or community figures, has weakened in many urban and peri-urban areas. As informal justice systems erode and institutional responses remain slow, women often feel they must take justice into their own hands.
Dr Nneka Umeh, a criminologist at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka, observes that many of these women do not believe police or university authorities will act in cases of betrayal or sexual rivalry, leading them to “administer their own form of justice, however illegal or morally wrong.”
The myth of the male prize
It is important to frame this issue not as women’s natural inclination to fight but as a reflection of the deeply gendered violence within society.
In nearly every case, the man at the centre of the feud remains unscathed, while the women endure public shame, injuries, or even arrest.
The myth of the “male prize” endures, that is, the belief that a woman must fight to keep a man because losing him is losing status.
As pointed out in a 2022 UN Women Nigeria report on gender norms and violence, such myths fuel cycles of abuse, competition, and ultimately violence among women.
What does the law say?
In Nigeria, violent altercations between women over romantic partners, particularly those involving physical assault, public humiliation, or the sharing of nude images, fall under several legal provisions, depending on the details of the incident. Here’s a breakdown:
Assault: Under both the Criminal Code (applicable in southern Nigeria) and the Penal Code (applicable in the north), assault is a criminal offence.
Section 252 of the Criminal Code defines assault as the unlawful application of force to another. Section 355 provides punishment: up to one year’s imprisonment for assault occasioning harm.
Where dangerous objects (e.g. bottles, scissors, acid) are involved, the offence becomes assault occasioning grievous harm, with heavier penalties, including longer jail terms.
Sexual violence: Inserting objects (such as bottles) into another person’s private parts, as noted in one of the cases, qualifies as sexual assault or rape under Section 1 of the Violence Against Persons (Prohibition) Act 2015, which prohibits all forms of sexual violence and defines penetration beyond penile-vaginal contact. Conviction may result in life imprisonment, depending on the severity.
Cybercrime and distribution of revenge porn: The act of recording and distributing nude videos is covered under the Cybercrime (Prohibition, Prevention, etc.) Act 2015, particularly Section 24 (cyberstalking and harassment). Penalties include fines and imprisonment of up to 10 years if harm is caused.
Criminal conspiracy: Legal practitioner Selena Onuoha notes that when more than one person plans and carries out an act (e.g. group beating), it falls under Section 516 of the Criminal Code, which criminalises conspiracy to commit a felony.
She also noted that recording and distributing humiliating content without consent may also constitute defamation or intentional infliction of emotional distress, which are actionable in civil court.
Role of mental health, peer pressure
The psychological toll of romantic competition, combined with social media pressure and economic precarity, cannot be overstated.
A 2023 study in the Journal of African Mental Health found that 1 in 4 Nigerian youths exhibit signs of depression linked to online validation anxiety and romantic trauma.
Moreover, peer pressure—especially within university settings—can escalate conflicts. Friends often encourage retaliation, frame cheating as a social slight that must be publicly punished, and sometimes even record the assault for social media clout.
Towards restorative solutions
Addressing the troubling rise in violent confrontations between Nigerian women over romantic rivals demands more than outrage; it requires a holistic, multi-sectoral response.
Experts agree that the root of this crisis lies in deeper societal fractures that must be actively repaired.
First, education must do more than produce graduates; it must shape emotionally intelligent citizens.
Gender and women’s rights advocate Mercy Yohan-Davidson argues that “our secondary and tertiary institutions must embed modules on emotional regulation, healthy relationships, and conflict resolution into general studies.”
She noted that the inability to handle rejection, betrayal, or emotional pain often erupts into aggression. A preventive approach rooted in education could change that trajectory.
Legal enforcement also has a crucial role to play. Nigeria’s legal framework already criminalises assault and defamation, but enforcement is sporadic.
“We cannot allow emotional provocation to be used as an excuse for battery,” says Ejiro Ikomi, another gender rights advocate. “If a woman is caught on video flogging or stripping another woman over a boyfriend, she must be prosecuted. Consequences are deterrents, and the law must make examples out of perpetrators.”
Support systems are another critical pillar. Schools and campuses must strengthen counselling units and deploy trained mental health professionals who can provide preventive and rehabilitative care.
“So many of these girls are crying for help through violence,” notes Dr Ifeoma Ogbu, a clinical psychologist. “They are battling low self-worth, abandonment issues, and unmet emotional needs. We must meet them with compassion and capacity, not neglect.”
Beyond institutions, experts have noted that communities must also rise to the occasion. Faith leaders, traditional rulers, and influencers must explicitly condemn female-on-female violence.
According to Ifeanacho Martins, a professor of sociology at the University of Port Harcourt, Rivers State, “Patriarchy thrives when women are taught to see each other as threats instead of allies. These confrontations are a direct consequence of a society that teaches women that their value lies in male attention.”
Public discourse must shift from victim-blaming to structural interrogation, he noted.
The professor further added, “What we are witnessing across Nigerian schools, campuses, and communities is not merely a breakdown in etiquette; it is a collapse in communal empathy, justice systems, and gender relations. These aren’t isolated ‘catfights’ over men. They are symptoms of a festering national wound.
“If left unaddressed, more young women will not only lose their dignity but possibly their lives. The solution lies in seeing these fights not as individual failings, but as a social crisis fuelled by gendered violence, economic disenfranchisement, digital performativity, and collapsing institutions.” (Punch)
