Africa
Kamala Has Doug, Why Can’t Nigeria Have A First Gentleman Too? -By Isaac Asabor
The question is not whether it is possible, but whether Nigerians have the courage to embrace it. Because until that day comes, the role of First Lady will remain on replay, like a Nollywood sequel that nobody asked for. Honestly speaking, we deserve better.

If Nigerian politics were a Netflix series, one recurring character would be the “First Lady.” For decades, every season, or rather, every administration comes with a new leading lady. From Maryam Babangida’s fashionable glamour to Patience Jonathan’s theatrical outbursts, Nigerians have seen first ladies who could rival Nollywood stars in style, drama, and influence.
But here is the thing: we have had first ladies enough. The script is tired. The character arc is predictable. It is time Nigeria tries something new, not another First Lady, but a First Gentleman.
And if you are wondering how that would even look, well, just glance across the Atlantic. America has already figured it out with Kamala Harris and her husband, Doug Emhoff. Kamala sits in the Oval Office, and Doug, not rattled, not emasculated, not struggling for the spotlight, stands proudly as “Second Gentleman.” He smiles at state functions, champions noble causes, and supports his wife without drama. That is the model Nigeria needs.
In theory, the First Lady role is ceremonial, just smile at dinners, cut ribbons, and run a charity project here and there. But in Nigeria, that role has almost always gone beyond ceremony.
Maryam Babangida institutionalized it with her “Better Life for Rural Women.” Stella Obasanjo added a touch of quiet class. Turai Yar’Adua moved levers of power behind closed doors. Patience Jonathan? She brought the Villa to the marketplace with her unforgettable “Diaris God ooo!” speeches. Aisha Buhari even took it further, at some point acting like the fiercest opposition to her husband’s government.
What does all this tell us? That in Nigeria, First Ladies often act like unelected co-presidents. They become too visible, too powerful, and too vocal. Just recently, Senator Oluremi Tinubu went as far as calling for donations to complete the long-stalled National Library project, a role that ordinarily belongs to the Ministry of Education, not the president’s spouse. For a country already drowning in political drama, maybe we need a different vibe. Maybe a first gentleman will offer that reset, less theatrics, less microphone-grabbing, and perhaps a break from the constant political noise that already drowns Nigeria like an endless generator hum.
Doug Emhoff has quietly become the poster boy for political spouses. As Kamala Harris rose to power, Doug did not flinch. He did not see his wife’s success as a threat. Instead, he redefined the role of a political spouse in modern times.
He has shown up where needed, campaigned for good causes, taken insults online without breaking a sweat, and most importantly, refused to overshadow Kamala. His existence in that role proves one thing: masculinity does not collapse when the man is not the one in charge.
Now, imagine that same energy in Nigeria. A man in agbada or crisp suit, living at Aso Rock not as president, but as First Gentleman. It would shatter stereotypes, reset cultural expectations, and maybe, just maybe, save us from the overbearing drama that has defined the First Lady syndrome.
Let us be blunt: Nigeria is a patriarchal society. Leadership here is still seen as the natural birthright of men. Even the idea of a female president makes many laugh as if it were a Nollywood comedy skit. But we cannot keep recycling the same outdated ideas.
A female president with a first gentleman would be revolutionary. It would show young girls that they can dream beyond “supporting roles.” It would teach young boys that there is dignity in standing behind powerful women. And it would finally drive home the point that leadership is not about gender, but competence.
Let us paint a mental picture. Nigeria’s first gentleman strolling into Aso Rock: Hosting state dinners in flowing agbada, cracking light jokes as he welcomes foreign dignitaries. Promoting girls’ education, boys’ mental health, or entrepreneurship, rather than fighting imaginary political enemies.Launching cultural diplomacy initiatives like “Jollof Rice across Borders.”
“Or maybe he could just be chill, a refreshing break from the loud, attention-grabbing antics of some former First Ladies. Of course, he might also bring his own drama: interrupting press conferences to defend his wife, or trending on social media because he haggled too hard at Balogun Market. Either way, it would add a twist to the Nigerian political soap opera, and if there’s one thing Nigerians love, it’s a good twist.”
Are Nigerians Ready? No doubt, the foregoing is a million-dollar question. Are Nigerians ready to see a woman sworn in as president and a man introduced as First Gentleman?
Many would resist. Some would sneer that a man who accepts such a title is not “man enough.” Others would claim the woman president is only a puppet, with her husband pulling the strings. But those arguments are just recycled patriarchal excuses.
Remember, people said the same about Doug Emhoff when Kamala Harris rose to the top. Today, Doug is thriving in his role, respected and admired. What looks strange at first always becomes normal when people embrace it. Nigeria will be no different.
For over sixty years, Nigeria has had its fair share of First Ladies, the elegant ones, the fiery ones, the invisible ones, and the unforgettable ones. Their contributions may be noted, but their theatrics have also left Nigerians weary.
It is time for something new. It is time to see a woman in the driver’s seat at Aso Rock, and a man sitting calmly beside her as First Gentleman. It is time for Nigeria’s own version of Kamala and Doug.
The question is not whether it is possible, but whether Nigerians have the courage to embrace it. Because until that day comes, the role of First Lady will remain on replay, like a Nollywood sequel that nobody asked for. Honestly speaking, we deserve better.