Ashawo No Be Name: Redefining Womanhood

Ashawo

If you grew up in Nigeria, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard the word ashawo more times than you can count, or perhaps you've even been called one. This term, which translates to something akin to "prostitute," is a weapon—a derogatory label used to shame and control women. It’s a wonder how easily it rolls off the tongues of some men, as if it holds a permanent position in their vocabulary, ready to be unleashed at any moment.

I remember the first time someone called me ashawo. I was just a teenager, unwilling to give out my phone number to a man who thought he could charm me into submission. His reaction was immediate and venomous. I paid it no mind at the time because I knew my worth. But as I grew older, I realized that this wasn’t just about me; it’s about the power dynamics at play. When a woman stands firm in her choices, some men feel the need to lash out, to remind her of her "place."

And it goes beyond words. Some men believe that violence is justified when they don’t get what they want. The injustice meted out to Nigerian women is staggering. We hear of domestic violence, rape, and even murder—all far too common. Just recently, I learned about the doctor in India who was brutally raped and killed. Then there's the seven-year-old girl in Ethiopia who was raped and murdered by her landlord. The list goes on. These horrific acts are not isolated incidents; they reflect a society that sees women as objects rather than human beings.

Honor killings are another brutal manifestation of this mindset. In some cultures, a woman’s worth is tied to family honor, and any perceived infraction—whether it be a relationship that displeases the family or simply asserting her independence—can lead to deadly consequences. In countries like Nepal and Pakistan, women have been murdered by their own family members for actions deemed shameful.

The hypocrisy is staggering: these same men who dehumanize women would be outraged if their sisters, mothers, or daughters faced the same treatment. Many men who throw around ashawo don’t see the connection. They demand respect for the women in their families yet fail to extend that same respect to women in general. The Bible teaches us in Matthew 7:12, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." If every man lived by this principle, we wouldn't have so many women carrying the weight of such damaging words.

Society expects women to endure in silence, to conform to norms that value their worth based on their relationships with men. It saddens me that women are often expected to stay put in violent homes, disregarding the fact that it could cost them their lives. I’m grateful for Gen Z because we use our voices to demand change. If I have daughters, I will teach them to learn skills for themselves before considering any man. Marriage will not be the ultimate goal in their lives. I am not against marriage, but the notion that a woman learns a skill solely for her husband’s benefit is outdated. Yes, it can be beneficial, but she must first recognize its value for herself; otherwise, it will become a burden.

My boys will know how to clean, cook, and sew. I will teach them skills traditionally reserved for women, so they grow up understanding that being a good human being transcends gender roles. The expectation that only women should bear the weight of domestic responsibilities is unfair and outdated.

Ultimately, the onus should not solely fall on women to change; men must also be raised to be better. Proverbs 22:6 reminds us, “Train up a child in the way that he should go, and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” While socio-economic status and family structures play a role in shaping values, it is possible to raise great men in this generation—men who understand respect, consent, and equality.

So, to the men who think calling a woman ashawo is a reflection of their masculinity: it's not. It’s a reflection of your own insecurities. You can do better. And to the mothers and fathers out there, instill a sense of self-worth in your children. Be present and active in their lives. Teach them who they are. They are kings and priests unto the Lord, a peculiar people, a chosen generation. They are signs and wonders, and they should live as such.

Let us be and do better. It starts with us.