Journalism is often described as the fourth pillar of every democratic setting, a watchdog of society entrusted with holding the people in power to account. Journalism does not operate in isolation; it is very much connected with the political, cultural, and social structures of the society in which it exists.
In Nigeria, these structures are heavily influenced by patriarchy, ethnic identity, religion, and entrenched power hierarchies. When gender is added to this mix, journalism becomes not just a profession but a contest for power and control in a very saturated social space.
That is why the recent backlash BBC journalist Madina Maishanu faced following her interviews with prominent political actors offers a clear lens through which we can examine the intersection of journalism, gender, and politics in Nigeria.
Beyond questions of professionalism or interview style, the commentries of people exposes unsaid anxieties about women’s authority, visibility, and legitimacy in political discours, especially within Northern Nigeria’s conservative social environment.
Gender and the Structure of Nigerian Journalism
Nigeria’s media industry mirrors the gender inequalities present in the wider society. Although women are visible in broadcasting as presenters and reporters, their presence diminishes significantly in areas that involve political power, investigative journalism, editorial leadership, and decision-making.
Studies by media development organizations and journalist unions consistently show that women make up less than one-third of practicing journalists in Nigeria, with far fewer assigned to political beats.
Political journalism, in particular, is seen as a masculine domain. It requires confrontational questioning, persistence, and a willingness to challenge authority. These are traits that Nigerian society often discourages in women. As a result, female journalists who enter this space are required to work harder to establish credibility while navigating expectations around politeness, warmth, and emotional restraint.
Politics, Masculinity and the Exclusion of Women
The marginalization of women in journalism cannot be separated from their marginalization in Nigerian politics itself.
Since Nigeria returned to democracy in 1999, women have remained largely excluded from elective political office. Female representation in the National Assembly has hovered between 3 and 7 percent, placing Nigeria among the lowest-ranked countries globally in women’s political participation.
Politics in Nigeria is generally a rough and aggressive aren. Nigerian politics is associated with money, patronage networks, and physical risk. This nature of Nigerian politics reinforces the idea that politics is unsuitable for women and, by extension, that women who question political power are intruding into male territory.
Therefore, when female journalists interrogate politicians, they disrupt both political and gender hierarchies simultaneously.
Northern Nigeria, Conservatism and the Policing of Female Behavior
Thes act of being very critical or defensive against the actions of women in journalism or public endeavors are more pronounced in Northern Nigeria, where conservative interpretations of culture and religion shape expectations around women’s roles in public life.
While Northern Nigeria has produced notable female leaders, academics, and activists, public visibility for women remains tightly regulated by social norms.
Women in media are expected to embody modesty not only in appearance but also in conduct. Their tone must be gentle, their expressions agreeable, and their presence non-threatening.
Assertiveness, seriousness, or emotional neutrality, are often interpreted as disrespectful or unfeminine when displayed by women.
As a young Northern woman working for an international media organization, Madina Maishanu occupies a highly visible and sensitive position. Her identity amplifies scrutiny of her voice, facial expressions, and perceived attitude long before the substance of her journalism is assessed.
The Kano Political Context: Loyalty, Betrayal and Emotion
Kano State holds a unique place in Nigeria’s political landscape. Politics in Kano is deeply passionate and personality-driven, with intense loyalty to political leaders. Senator Rabiu Musa Kwankwaso, in particular, commands a devoted following that extends beyond conventional party politics.
When the Governor of Kano State defected from the New Nigeria People’s Party (NNPP) to the All Progressives Congress (APC), the move was widely interpreted as a personal and political betrayal of Kwankwaso. Given that the governor was the NNPP’s only sitting governor nationwide, the defection symbolized not just political realignment but the collapse of a collective project.
In moments of political crisis, supporters often expect sympathetic narratives and protective media coverage. Journalism, however, demands skepticism and accountability.
This demand for accountability and skepticism are what landed Madina in the hot seat of criticism from many supporters of various politicians.
Madina Maishanu and the Ethics of Political Interviewing
It was within this highly tense political environment that the BBC assigned Madina Maishanu to interview Senator Kwankwaso. Her interview style was calm, controlled, and direct. She asked difficult questions without offering emotional reassurance or performative warmth.
For many viewers, particularly supporters of Kwankwaso, her refusal to smile or soften her delivery was interpreted as hostility. Accusations of rudeness and unprofessionalism followed. Yet such criticisms reveal more about societal expectations than journalistic ethics.
Professional journalism does not require emotional alignment with interview subjects. On the contrary, distance and neutrality are foundational principles of credible reporting. The demand that a journalist, especially a female journalis, must smile while interrogating power reflects an expectation of emotional labor that is not imposed on male colleagues.
Consistency and Professional Integrity
Claims that Madina Maishanu selectively applied a harsh interview style do not withstand scrutiny. Her interviews with Governor Mohammed Bago of Niger State, Chief of Defence Staff General Christopher Musa, and other public officials reflect the same restrained tone and direct questioning.
In the interview with Governor Bago, the governor reportedly became visibly uncomfortable. In contrast, General Musa remained composed and engaged. During the Kwankwaso interview, there were no clear signs of displeasure from the senator himself, who answered questions calmly and at length.
If the subjects of the interviews did not object, the outrage from sections of the public appears rooted less in journalistic practice and more in discomfort with a woman exercising authority over powerful men.

Journalism as a Bridge Between Power and the People
Journalists serve as intermediaries between political leaders and citizens. Their role is not to flatter or entertain those in power but to extract information, clarify decisions, and demand accountability on behalf of the public.
In a country grappling with economic hardship, insecurity, and governance challenges, journalists who soften questions risk failing the very citizens they are meant to serve. This responsibility is heightened for international media organizations like the BBC, whose credibility depends on rigorous standards.
For women journalists, fulfilling this role often comes at a personal cost. They must confront both political backlash and gendered criticism that questions their character rather than their competence.
Familiarity, Growth and the Burden of Public Ownership
Part of the reaction to Madina Maishanu’s evolution may stem from familiarity. Her career growth, from social media platforms to co-presenting roles and eventually to hosting her own programs, has occurred in the public eye.
Some audiences feel a sense of ownership over media personalities they have watched grow, expecting them to remain accessible, friendly, and emotionally open. Professional advancement disrupts these expectations. With higher responsibility comes the need for distance, authority, and restraint.
Madina’s current role requires her to prioritize professional standards over audience comfort. Unless her editors and employers find her work wanting, public displeasure alone is insufficient justification for change.
Women, Journalism and the Future of Democratic Accountability
The Madina Maishanu episode highlights the broader struggle of women in Nigerian public life. Whether in politics, media, or civil society, women who assert authority are often subjected to moral scrutiny, character assassination, and cultural policing.
Yet these moments of tension are also moments of progress. Each time a woman occupies space traditionally reserved for men and performs competently, the boundaries of possibility expand. Journalism plays a critical role in this transformation by normalizing women’s authority in public discourse.
Conclusion
The controversy surrounding Madina Maishanu is ultimately not about smiling, tone, or personality. It is about power. It’s is about who holds it, who questions it, and who society permits to speak with authority.
At the intersection of journalism, gender, and politics in Nigeria lies a central challenge for democracy itself. When journalists are expected to protect political egos rather than interrogate decisions, accountability suffers. When women are punished for doing their jobs without emotional performance, equality remains elusive.
Madina Maishanu’s work forces a necessary conversation about professionalism, gender bias, and the future of journalism in Nigeria. In insisting on seriousness, neutrality, and rigor, she embodies not a failure of journalism, but its very purpose.