Gender relations in Indigenous Yorùbá culture: questioning current feminist actions and advocacies

Abstract Gender hierarchy and inequality are attributes of Western colonialism enforced in several colonised societies. Similarly, feminism (Western), as the antithesis of European sexism, has permeated colonised societies and has been assimilated without proper reflection. This is concretely evident among the Yorùbá people of south-western Nigeria. Before European colonisation, Yorùbá culture was gender-neutral and gender-silent; women were seen as complementary and not subordinate to men. Hence, according to Oyěwùmí’s work on The Invention of Women, caution and reflections must be raised on the continual adoption of mainstream Western feminist philosophy in Yorùbá culture. In essence, the colonial imposition of the Western gender binary in Yorùbá society and women’s anti-colonial and feminist activities are discussed. Furthermore, the paper challenges some feminist approaches and ideologies in Nigeria, while advocating for a communal, transformative, and Pan-African feminism in Yorùbá and African societies. The decolonisation of Africa and the Yorùbá education system are recommended, alongside a proper history of Indigenous Yoruba people and knowledges. Contemporary feminist campaigns (including digital feminisms) and movements must also develop a ‘shared text of blackness’. The duo should align and improve the worth of women based on the indispensability and esteemed status offered to women in ‘pre-colonial’ Yorùbá society.


Introduction
Gender discourse is marred by contradictory thoughts and arguments. This study relies on a decolonial African feminism 1 argument to raise caution regarding current feminist activities in south-western Nigeria and to advocate for African-centred feminism. Generally, two categories are popular in explaining the gender identity of a human body: sexual and gender explanations. The former interprets the biological facts of being a male or female, and the latter refers to the social consequences of being either of the two sexes. However, the Yorùbá society, as the crux of this study, holds tightly to heteronormative gender categories. Nigeria, ARTICLE HISTORY where the Yorùbás are predominantly located, is divided into male and female and resists (legally and morally) all forms of new gender identifications. Meanwhile, Oyěwùmí (1997) noted that sex and gender are inextricably bound, ie the way scholarship has read meanings into human sexes in any particular time and society is also a function of social relations. In Western societies, Oyěwùmí (1997) argued, there is no difference between physical (sex) and social (gender) bodies. Martin (1991) shared similar ideas on how 'science' was used to hierarchise sexes based on the prevalent social ties during those 'scientific' periods. Henslin (2010) described gender stratification as a master status or a universal culture, thus affirming the pervasiveness of gender stratifications and/or inequalities in many societies. In explaining gender stratifications, the nature/biological and nurture/social philosophies are widespread. These are referred to as biological determinism and social constructionism by Oyěwùmí (1997). Biological determinism explains that the male gender was naturally created and developed to control society (Martin 1991;Dogo 2014). Social constructionism holds that society (re)produces patriarchalism and, therefore, is changeable.
Whether via biological determinism or social constructionism, today's Yorùbá society is patriarchal and favours masculinity over femininity (Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala 2018;Chegwe 2014;Dogo 2014;Njoroge 2016). This has paved the way for multidimensional and intersectional feminist activities (Olofintuade 2017;Akinpelu 2021;Akinbobola 2019). Nevertheless, this article holds that a Yorùbá woman is usually a source of marked status that invokes respect, privilege, esteem, and envy. This article aims to contribute to a discourse on gender relations in the Yorùbá culture concerning how females are framed in pre-colonial and present times. It also seeks to dissect feminist ideologies amidst the overwhelming imposition of Western gender identities in Africa. This will be achieved by examining Indigenous Yorùbá culture vis-à-vis its collusion with colonialism and Western culture.

Methodology and theoretical framework
Methodology is not used in this study in the strict sense of a quantitative survey or qualitative ethnographic study. Methodology herein refers to the framework used in arguing for the complementary status of women in Yorùbá societies, before European colonisation. The authors argue that Yorùbá women are an indispensable force in the functioning and workability of the Indigenous Yorùbá society. Oyěwùmí's (1997) provocative and classical work is a foundation for this article's analysis. Oyěwùmí (1997) and Mangcu (2016) posited that studies in and on Africa have imbibed Western ontologies and epistemologies. Furthermore, Oyěwùmí (1997) argued that African nativists usually invoke Eurocentred philosophies on African gender relations and identities, without reference to the specific gender relations in Africa. The work shares characteristics with outlying decolonial feminist ideas such as those of Lugones (2008) and Wane (2011). Hence, the study is both met with scholarly criticisms (King and Oyěwùmí 1998;Adésuyì 2014;Manicom 2001) andsupported (by Ficek 2011;Creevey 2000). Decolonisation fosters questioning and rethinking the hegemonic Western and Eurocentric epistemologies in Africa and conducting a critical narration of Indigenous stories on specific African experiences (Kaya and Seleti 2014;Le Grange 2016). Oyěwùmí's The Invention of Woman, Making an African Sense of Western Gender Discourses is an opportunity to decolonise feminism in Africa, take actions to deconstruct and reconstruct colonial knowledge on African gender relations, and properly historicise and critique existing Western feminism frames (theory and praxis) in Africa.
The Yorùbá people of Nigeria occupy mainly the southern part of Nigeria, which they share with the Igbo people and other minority groups. Furthermore, they control the totality of one of the six geopolitical zones in Nigeria -the South-West. The zone encompasses Èkìtì, Lagos, Ògùn, Oǹdó, Ọṣun, and Ọỳọ́ states. Yoruba people can also be found in a few northern states such as Kwara and Kogi. References will also be made to the Western region, the carved colonial geography of the Yorùbá people.
Theoretically, this study adopts Fraser's (1998) 'perspectival duality' social justice theory. The work acknowledges female subjugation and patriarchy in many societies and seeks to change the status quo inferiority of the female gender. It seeks social justice laced between redistribution and recognition (Fraser 1998, see also Davis 2020). The vitality of perspectival duality amidst redistributing rights and recognising women by building a practice of Africancentred feminism is discussed later.

Gender in Yorùbá culture and interaction with colonialism
Today, the Yorùbá culture is patriarchal, and gender plays a significant role in social stratification (Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala 2018;Aderinto 2001;Pogoson 2012). Patriarchy allows men privileges such as higher employment, education attainment, and other social benefits. In Yorùbá culture, males are deemed independent and capable of catering for themselves. From a youthful age, males are allowed to engagein night outings, long-distance travelling, late marriage, and fewer household chores, and can separate from their family of orientation for education, training, and greener pastures (Dogo 2014). They are less reprimanded compared to women regarding domestic offences, adultery, etc. Unfortunately, women are not allowed these privileges, although this varies across specific native cultures. The lower status and privileges enjoyed by women have influenced feminist activities in Yoruba societies (Akinbobola 2019). Feminism's goals include empowering women, changing their narratives, challenging gender inequality, recognising female rights, and stopping all forms of discrimination against women (Chegwe 2014;Njoroge 2016).
A specific wave of Black decolonial feminism, and Pan-African feminism, have argued that Africa's interaction with Europe wreaked havoc on its gender orientations (Oyěwùmí 2016;Johnson 1982;Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala 2018;Amadiume 1987;Wane 2011). Johnson (1982, studying women's activities in colonial south-western Nigeria, concluded that colonialism altered women's social position and affected their economic and political power and roles. Furthermore, Ogbomo (2005, 50) asserted that contemporary gender relations in Africa are not a true reflection of women's exercise of power and influence on the continent in the past. Today, the marginalised status of women gives the impression that African women have always been oppressed by their male counterparts (see also Akinpelu 2021, 9;Ogbomo and Ogbomo 1993). Consequently, it can be inferred that gender hierarchy was not the norm in pre-colonial Yorùbá society. Many accounts, including those of Johnson and Ogbomo, asserted that gender was not the crudest and most fundamental dictator of social relations, as it played a secondary role in Yorùbá society.
Gender hierarchy importation is pervasive in Africa. Before European colonisation, women usually had independent status and did not contest any role with the opposite gender. This includes political, economic, religious, family, and health affairs (Wane 2011). In Yorùbá society, women are highly placed, with honour and status. Johnson also described the outstanding status of Yoruba women in questioning the imposition of the gender binary in Nigeria: 'One area where women's movements were particularly important in anti-colonial activity was southwestern Nigeria. Here women possessed a long and rich history of collective organization through which they articulated and protected their interests from pre-colonial times onward' (Johnson 1982, 137).
Subsequently, it is essential to ask how Western colonialism created gender hierarchies, which specifically placed men above women and led to the popularity of sex typing. This activity must include comparing women's status in pre-colonial and colonial periods. According to Oyěwùmí (1997), colonisers adopted tools such as education, land ownership, cocoa production, religion (Christianity), leadership, 'customary' courts, employment, and so on, to berate and withhold power from women. Female voting limitations and tax payments were also imposed (Johnson 1982;Amadiume 1987;Adetunji 2013), as was Islam, especially in Northern Nigeria (Dogo 2014). Oyěwùmí (1997), Ajala (1977), and Imam (2012) described the inextricability of Western education and missionary activities. Oyewumi further narrated how this duo was used to create a gender binary. For example, men were explicitly targeted in missionaries' efforts to develop persons who would independently establish and spread the gospel and 'civilise' other societies. They were seen as competent and capable ofbecoming evangelists, pastors, clerks, interpreters, assistant engineers, etc. Thus, male and female bodies were given access to different education. While men received missionary education (later critiqued by the colonial government (Imam 2012)), special classes were given to women in embroidery and sewing. Thus, women's education was targeted to make them 'responsible wives' to male pastors and teachers. This is not confusing because white missionary wives performed similar roles; hence, it was 'normal' for the missionaries to replicate a similar system for African women. Concerning the preference to enrol different genders into schools, Oyěwùmí (1997, 134) claimed that the number of men enrolled was so high that educated females were in short supply for males to marry.
Thus, missionary education marked the genesis of the gender binary, although it was not immediately observed nor criticised by natives. This paper argues that this is because saving souls for life after death was the manifest purpose of the missionary and sexism played a latent role, and thus, it was not obviously inherent. Influential Nigerian missionaries like Chief Ajayi Crowther encouraged the nobles, elders, and chiefs to enrol their wards, in the face of earlier natives' hesitation to enrol their children. Rescued enslaved people who returned from Sierra Leone accounted for additional students enrolled in missionary schools, churches, and houses (Ajala 1977). The strict boarding school system used by the missionaries also provided for the overall control and supervision of natives' daily lives and isolation from their 'pagan past' (Ajala 1977).
Land in Yorùbá precolonial society used to be a free commodity to be kept in trust by family heads (lineage-based) and traditional rulers (community-based). It would be given to entitled persons in need of land and extended to strangers where appropriate (Mamdani 1996). Meanwhile, this system did not lead women to be doubly entitled to land. In an instance of exogamous marriage, women might be entitled to two lands, from their families of both orientation and procreation. However, access to land for women was mainly through their family of orientation and not procreation (Oyěwùmí 1997). Conversely, white settlers' colonialism and capitalism led to land commercialisation. Thus, the formerly public land became private property (Rodney 1972;Mamdani 1996), through ordinances, crown grants of land, etc. These mechanisms removed free access to lands from women because colonisers regarded only males as complete humans.
Also, as would later be discussed, women initially had restricted access to paper money, since they were grossly uneducated. Moreover, literate women were not employed or promoted like their male counterparts (Johnson 1982). Furthermore, colonialists' unique recognition of cocoa as a valued commodity in Western Nigeria further made lands a valuable commodity. Cocoa commercialisation created a monopolistic market for men, as women were regarded as unfit to grow cocoa (Dogo 2014). The female gender was also not supported by the government (in terms of finance, seedlings, land, etc) to grow cocoa. The empowered male family and community heads and traditional rulers also became unwilling to pass cash-crop lands to their daughters.
The colonisers created the power that allowed male-only lineage heads and traditional rulers to enhance female oppression. Traditionally, the Yorùbá society's political organisation was monarchical, characterised by separation of power and checks and balances. The Ọba (king) did not enjoy total governance control as many institutions were in place that could easily check the king's excesses. Women's associations are notable amongst these groups. Moreover, in every grouping in Yorùbá custom and tradition, there is usually a place for women, be it in governance, religion, industry, law, health, social groups (ẹgbẹ́ -age groups), etc. Yorùbá culture recognised special female offices like the Ìyálóde (woman king subject), Ìyá Àbíyè (female midwife), Yèyé Ọṣun (water goddess), Ìyá Lọjà (female market leader), Erelú (female leader), Ìyámọjẹ̀ (female masquerade leader), Ìyá mọgbà (Sango female cultist), and so on. These positions are revered by the totality of the society (Makinde 2004) and some hold extraordinary supernatural power (Adetunji 2013). Women could use them to seek benefits, including pursuing favours and punishing deviators (Makinde 2004). Today, these offices still exist for women, unfortunately holding mainly ceremonial status.
Colonial administration used indirect rule, or what Mamdani (1996) called 'decentralised despotism' , as a political system to assist the colonial enterprise. The system recognised only men as native rulers. For easy and selfish control of regional districts, British colonialists appointed only males, who directed and controlled the affairs of the population under a native authority system. While indirect rule did not dismiss traditional authorities, the existing institutionalised mechanisms that acted as checks against the usual male rulers became irrelevant. The colonial administration also refused to recognise women as capable of participating in this system. Thus, traditional male chiefs made laws, administered them, and punished offenders. Mamdani (2001) noted that pre-colonial Africa did not have a single 'customary' 2 court as political administration and governance were decentralised across family, district, and township levels, with no fixed location. However, during the colonial period, matters hitherto referred to as communal/familial became matters of 'customary courts' in permanent locations, where only male chiefs were represented. Family disputes, land ownership, divorce, etc, became affairs for a council of male chiefs. Mamdani (2001) and Oyěwùmí (1997) described the behaviours of the male chiefs as despotic and tyrannical.
Elements of education like writing and translation also assisted gender hierarchy and inequality in Yoruba society. Specifically, translating English to the Yorùbá language and vice versa assisted the gender hierarchy project, vis-à-vis Christianity and African Indigenous religions. In speaking and writing, the English language has gender orientations, ie him/her, he/she, etc. In contrast, the Yorùbá language and society do not specify gender differences. This created a clash between a gender-silent Yorùbá language and a hegemonic English; it is needless to mention the compromise and victimisation between Yorùbá and English languages. Oyěwùmí (1997, 140) noted that the process of creating a Yorùbá Bible, referred to as Yorubanising Christianity, unfortunately influenced the 'Christianization of Yorùbá religion' . For example, the three pillars of Yoruba religion -Olódùmarè, Òrìsà and Alálẹ, ie God, gods, and ancestors -had representations of both genders. There are male gods, ie ṣàngó, Ògún, etc, and female gods -Ọṣun, Òrìsàlá etc. Also, ṣàngó is not superior to Ọṣun as gods are invoked on a case-specific basis. Unfortunately, Yorubanising Christianity painted Olódùmarè -Father in Heaven/God -as male; henceforth, male gods became more powerful than females. In addition, ancestors became forefathers and not 'foremothers' , as if females do not die and are not venerated by their families. In pronoun usage, God, gods and ancestors became he. Meanwhile, Yorùbá language refers to God, god, and an ancestor with plural identities, ẹẹẹẹẹ, wọn, etc; they are not marked with genders but as supreme beings; hence, plural pronouns were used.
Yorùbá acknowledges an age hierarchy as against a gender hierarchy; hence, roles, responsibilities, expectations, etc, are determined by peoples' age or seniority and not their gender (Oyěwùmí 1997;Dogo 2014). The young population is socialised to be respectful to adults. This is inherent in transitioning from ooooo to ẹẹẹẹẹ during conversations. Ooooo is used for people of lesser age or colleagues, and ẹẹẹẹẹ for persons older than you. Moreover, social control is built on biological age and systems of social respect. Age is so influential as a form of social control that a younger person will not disrespect someone only 24 hours older than them. They will be rebuked that -Tó bá jẹ́ ọjọ́ kan ló fi jù ẹ́ lọ, oò lè ri rà lọjà -'if they are only older than you with a day, it is unsellable in the market' . Meanwhile, another author cautioned that a non-gendered society cannot be entirely identified by the language structure of that society, as language does not perfectly reflect social organisations, inequalities, and stratifications (Manicom 2001). However, we argue that language alone would not provide evidence of a gender-neutral and gender-silent Yorùbá society; meanwhile, it constitutes an additional argument for pan-African and decolonial feminist writers.
The Yorùbá society used to be gender-neutral and gender-fluid (Oyěwùmí 1997(Oyěwùmí , 2002Ogbomo 2005). There was no apparent gender hierarchy; also, bodily differences did not have a vital interplay in social relations. Although some social elements were regarded as masculine or feminine, sex-typing and hierarchical thinking were not prevalent. Female roles were not hierarchically appreciated more than male roles or vice versa. Both genders recognised their different roles, and no superior status was placed on one gender and gender role over the other. Colonial settlers' opinion that Africa lacks civilisation and modern culture (Fanon 1961;Rodney 1972;Kuykendall 2016) would make them wilfully blind to the fact that Yorùbá society was gender-neutral, albeit this is not the norm in Europe. Adésuyì (2014) critiqued Oyewumi's (2002 idea of an ungendered Yorùbá society; however, they could not argue for a Yorùbá culture and society marked by gender hierarchy and sexism. Adésuyì also could not claim that bodily forms defined social relations as each gender complemented the other in Indigenous Yorùbá culture. We will now turn our attention to describing how Yorùbá women challenged the gender hierarchy introduced by settlers, amidst the birth of feminism in Yorùbá society.

Yorùbá women and colonialism: the birth of Black feminism
According to Oyěwùmí (1997), the intertwined processes of European colonisation made Black women invisible as they occupied a fourth invisible order in the hierarchy of colonial bodies. The first structure placed colonial settlers above natives (Mamdani 2001), followed by the subordination of the female gender.
In the colonial situation, there was a hierarchy of four, not two, categories. Beginning at the top, these were: men (European), women (European), natives (African men), and Others (African women). Native women occupied the residual and unspecified category of the Other. (Oyěwùmí 1997, 122) As a result, Yorùbá women organised in groups to question the alien gender relations and the fourth position they occupied in the hierarchy of bodies, which is an innate part of colonialism and coloniality (see Lugones 2008). This led to the popularity of names like Rabiatu Aláṣọ Òkè, Madam Alimotu Péléwúrà, Chief Funmilayo Anikulapo-Kuti, Mrs Oyinkan Abayomi, Mrs H. Lawson, Mrs Ore Jones, Mrs Manuwa, Madam Idowu, and so on. Women interrupted the demotion of their status by colonialists by demanding for redistribution of rights and recognition. This paper contends that specific female gender anti-colonial activities would have been unnecessary if imported gender norms matched customary gender norms and relations. Consequently, Africa's cultural interaction with Europe birthed Black feminism and anti-colonial movements. This was before modern Western feminism became popular in the nineteenth century (Chegwe 2014). Guy-Sheftall (2003) agrees that the struggle for women's rights in Africa is not a result and imitation of Euro-American values nor an effect of Western modernity. This paper already narrated how missionaries trained men to spread the gospel, thus putting men in charge of church affairs. In 1891, the first Indigenous Yorùbá church was formed, with menfolk as the authority. Subsequently, a church was co-created by Abiodun Akinsowon, a woman, around 1925. She refused the Ìyá Ìjọ (women leader) position of the church and argued that the Bible consents to female church leadership. Subsequently, her superior leadership was accepted by the church and congregation. The same is true for Madame Olatunrie, who competed with a man by asserting that God had given her the vision to form and lead a congregation (Oyěwùmí 1997). In both cases, women and men attended the churches. Because female leadership is accepted in Yorùbá Indigenous religion, this was transferred to Christianity. This paper argues that this is a form of female equality activism.
Furthermore, missionary education in Western Nigeria assisted in the creation of a gender hierarchy. Ajala (1977) explained that missionary education was not primarily intended to train students in science and technology. Instead, it was mainly used to teach souls to read the Bible and to create congregations and evangelism; therefore, men became the focal interest. Moreover, rivalry was apparent between the various missions (Church Missionary Society [CMS], Roman Catholic Missionary [RCM], American Baptist, Methodist, etc) in their efforts to preach to and win the souls of the largest number among the native population (Ajala 1977). Furthermore, it is vital to ask about the purpose of creating Nigeria's fourth oldest school, established in 1879, as a single (female) school -Methodist Girls High School. The school history webpage reads: The aims of the founding fathers of the school were to give the girl-child, 'The highest literary training, of which they were capable and also to teach them domestic arts, such as cooking, sewing, mending, laundry, etc, and to become good wives and good mothers' . The school therefore, aimed at giving the girls such an education that would enable them to contribute in a practical and meaningful way to the stability of family life within the society. (Methodist Girls' High School 2021) Females were mainly educated to become good wives and mothers and to prepare a comfortable home for the working males. In later years, the colonial government also became interested in education (Ajala 1977). The focal purpose of missionary education was Christianisation, and this aim did not agree with the government's objective. Lord Lugard's administration needed to make secretaries, clerks and administrators out of men to support non-native colonialists and the colonial enterprise (Mamdani 2001). Subsequently, the King's College was created in 1909 for modern education devoid of missionary activities. However, it took 18 years (until 1927) to start a female government-administered school -Queen's College, Lagos. Practically, it was established as a result of the activities of Lagos elite women, who raised some £1000 to establish the school (Oyěwùmí 1997).
Western Nigerian women perceived the threat of colonialism to their interests and status, including social and economic organisation (see Johnson 1982). For example, it was the Lagos Women's League, masterminded by Charlotte Olajumoke Obasa, that fought for women's employment in the civil service (Oyěwùmí 1997;Johnson 1982;George 2007). Female bodies were underpaid, not appointed to senior positions, and unlikely to control labour different from themselves. Female marginalisation and discrimination are part and parcel of Britain's colonialism in Nigeria. Oyěwùmí (1997, 135) quoted a discriminatory circular during Nigeria's colonial administration, noting that women should not be promoted to senior positions, except in extraordinary situations when the female body is well qualified and would not control labour different from her gender.
Madam Alimotu Pelewura, Funmilayo Anikulapo Kuti, and others are fascinating figures in female social and political activism. Johnson (1982, 149) compared women's role in social organisation and politics in Abẹòkúta, as a prominent location for active colonial and anticolonial activities. 'The position of women in Abẹòkúta had deteriorated under the colonial order. In pre-colonial society women had participated in politics and had their own representatives, the most important of which was the Ìyálóde [sic], on state councils whose duty was to protect and promote women's interest' .
Describing Chief 'Frances OluFunmilayo Ransome-Kuti' , Johnson (1982) narrated that her harrowing experience while schooling in Britain made her drop her first name to Funmilayo. She must have suffered intersectional discrimination as a Black woman. The chief and founder of the Abẹòkúta Ladies Club (an elite female group) empathised with market women and evolved the organisation into Abẹòkúta Women's Union (AWU) to accommodate middle-class market women. Subsequently, they forced the Aláké of Ẹgbáland -the traditional ruler of Abẹòkúta (a foremost town in the Western region, now South-West Nigeria) to abdicate his throne due to colonial and anti-women activities (Olofintuade 2017). Subsequently, the group became a national body with a new nomenclature -Nigeria Women's Union (NWU), with branches across Nigeria.
Chief Funmilayo was a Yorùbá chief, ie Ìyálóde -women head. She was the only female representative at the 1947 London constitutional conference. Her appointment as part of the National Council of Nigeria and the Cameroons (NCNC) political party delegates was associated not with 'gender equality' but with charisma. In London, she met with the Secretary of State for the Colonies and narrated specifically the difficulties of women. Subsequently, Funmilayo led activism (AWU) that dethroned a revered Aláké of Ẹgbáland. The Aláké was dethroned because of anti-women activities, including excessive tax charges, forceful collection of goods for political reasons (food requisition), price controls, non-representation of women in Ẹgbá politics, etc. The AWU protest marked a series of activities resulting in Aláké's dethronement. Later, the AWU gathered support, including from male-dominated organisations such as the highly respected Ògbóni cult, until the Aláké temporarily abdicated the throne on 3 January 1949 (Johnson 1982;Johnson-Odim and Mba 1997). They also forced the inclusion of four women in the Sote Native Authority System, usually headed by the Aláké. This set-up had initially refused to include females.
The story of Madam Pelewura is similar. Her work with the Lagos Market Women Association (LMWA) was outstanding. LWMA fought the colonial government in Lagos on women's tax payments. As a fish seller, she headed several markets and challenged the introduction of female taxation in Lagos (recall that tax had been introduced in Abẹòkúta and AWU only fought against its extortionary element). The LMWA successfully rejected the taxation policy introduced in Lagos in 1932, and in 1940 when a new Income Tax Ordinance followed. However, on 18 December 1940, Pelewura spoke directly with the colonial commissioner of Lagos, and the taxable income was subsequently increased from 50 to 200 pounds, which was an unrealistic accruable income for most of the women at that time (Johnson 1982). Yet, the limited success marked the official introduction of female taxation in Lagos. Johnson (1982) argued that the LMWA refused female tax because it is against Yorùbá customs and traditions. This is because there is no formal individual taxation system in Yorùbá culture, but communal taxation in the forms of Ìṣákọĺẹ̀ ànd Owó Ilẹ. These were not paid individually but by the family, household, or whole community. Colonial activities created personal income taxation, and females were exempted because colonialism saw the feminine body as a sub-being incapable of making enough income to pay taxes. Moreover, females were disallowed employment in government establishments. However, on affirming Yorùbá women's entrepreneurial nature and complementary income status, the colonial administrators' widened the tax base to females. In the arguments about tax payment with the colonial government, Madam Alimotu and the LMWA argued that Lagos women were already scarred by wartime hardship. The women had to feed their unemployed husbands and relatives and assist them in tax payments to protect them from arrest and imprisonment. They insisted that women would not pay taxes unless there is female franchise (Johnson 1982, 140).
Women desired representation in politics and political processes, if they must pay taxes. Also, women complemented their families by paying their husbands' taxes or becoming the family breadwinner in some cases (Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala 2018). Women worked in agriculture, trading, and distribution sectors during colonialism to contribute to family income. It is not Yorùbá-like that a woman/wife would be indolent and wait for her daily bread, despite the recognition of men as the family head. They have even worked in the same industry as men right up to today (Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala 2018). While Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala (2018) related the implications of female breadwinners in family settings, this paper argues that the implications are consequences of cultural interaction with Western colonialism, neo-colonialism, and globalisation. Women have been traditionally known to be home supporters and their husbands did not contravene this position, and vice versa.
Lastly, colonial gender hierarchy is also apparent in Nigeria's political representation history. Women were disallowed to vote (Adetunji 2013) and forbidden representation in native authorities, government councils and committees. The fight for voting rights, girls' education and literacy, female employment in civil service, and protection of market women formed the core function of the Nigerian Women's Party (NWP), headed by Oyinkan Abayomi (George 2007). The NWP commanded the status of the first female-led party when female franchise was granted in 1950. After some years, Chief Funmilayo also formed the Commoners People Party (Johnson-Odim and Mba 1997). The next section critiques current feminist actions in Yorùbá culture.

A critique of feminist activities in Nigeria
Some recent works on feminism have argued that mainstream feminism does not recognise African females' rights and status in African traditional culture (Wane 2011;Njoroge 2016;Chegwe 2014). As a result of gender inequality, female oppression and marginalisation in south-western Yorùbá society and Nigeria, several feminist activities are observable, including in digital spaces. Akinbobola's (2019) work on neoliberal feminism exemplifies what we call 'unsustainable feminism' . They described a neoliberal feminist as 'she who uses the resources available to her to foster her own empowerment, while still considering the best approach to achieving a work-life balance' (Akinbobola 2019, 52). In this sense, neoliberal feminism showed an embodiment of Western capitalism and of course, neoliberalismindividualism, accumulation, competition, etc.
Akinbobola argued that neoliberal feminism does not align with 'the lived experiences of African women' (Akinbobola 2019, 53) and is impracticable by 'African women, many of whom are still grappling with basic issues of survival in a highly gendered context' (Njoroge 2016, 314). How does neoliberal feminism cater for women who are unemployed, or who work in the informal sector or as domestic labourers or full-time housewives, and do not have access to formal education and digital space? Moreover, what are the implications of this feminism concerning the larger society, ie divorce, single parenting, mental health, breakage of the family and other social institutions, unethical business and profit-seeking, environment and climate crisis, etc? Africans' views about these subjects differ significantly from Western perceptions. African practices must be respected amidst dialogue and convivial knowledge sharing, where appropriate. We argue that the 'longer-term prospect' methodology for this project is unsustainable (Akinbobola 2019, 55); moreover, it will further create two mutually exclusive divisions of women in Nigerian society. Feminism in Africa must be societal, communal, transformative, inclusive of men, decolonial, and Ubuntu-rich.
Some digital feminisms have also been shown to be un-African. The outcome of the 'Female in Nigeria' Facebook group, an offshoot of #BeingFemaleinNigeria activism (Akinbobola 2019), showed how feminisms that do not have deep knowledge of African gender relations will not achieve their set goals. The group mutated into a space where diverse versions of feminist ideologies, ie conventional (family, religion and recognition of husband rights) and modern (inclusive of queer and gender equality), competed to be heard. In addition, group members felt group administrators controlled group activities and views (Akinbobola 2019). Furthermore, the public reception of the #EndSARS logo ('SARS' referring to the Special Anti-Robbery Squad) shows how marginal views of feminism will be interpreted by the Nigerian public (Akinpelu 2021). The authors do not consider it wrong that an artistic and creative #EndSARS movement and logo are simultaneously used to inform the public about gender inequality and female oppression. However, enforcing what is publicly considered extreme gender views and LGBTQ rights in a supposedly 'gender-neutral' movement created chaos among online activists. Many activists perceived that LGBTQIA+, 'abortion rights and … same-sex relationships do not resonate with African women, many of whom are still grappling with basic issues of survival in a highly gendered context' (Njoroge 2016, 314). The arguments that ensued represented an initial setback for the anti-police brutality movement. Additional arguments were that the LGBTQ community was not the only minority group brutalised by SARS. As a result, we initiate that the #EndSARS movement can become a unified umbrella for all brutalised minorities to seek recognition and economic redistribution. Authors' opinion on the #EndSARS protest is to #RestructureNigeria in terms of governance based on equity, justice, and self-determination. Chegwe's (2014) work showed the extent to which the Nigerian state and the constitution, including past court rulings, mainly recognise masculine constructs and uphold patriarchy. Despite this challenge, Chegwe rightfully narrated 'why Nigerian feminists should not be liberal feminists' . Liberal feminism mainly seeks for equality between different sexes as a solution to eliminating gender inequality. By seeking to be equal to men, Chegwe argued that liberal feminism unwittingly sees men as the norm while women are the deviators (they are supposed to be like men from the onset). This is so because liberal feminism does not account for women's specific biological differences. They advised that 'equality does not mean similar treatment in unidentical circumstances, and often means treating people differently as a positive measure to redress past imbalance' (Chegwe 2014, 74). They further gave examples of how this is coming alive in South Africa's justice system. We contend that liberal feminism is similar to liberal inclusionary feminism as one of the two feminism approaches in Njoroge (2016, 316), the other being progressive feminism. It is predominantly concerned with equal participation or redistribution, and neglects gendered power relations and recognition. Progressive feminism, in contrast, is concerned with transformation and dismantling the social order, including colonial gender relations (Njoroge 2016).
The authors argue that the vital feminist activisms above misconstrue the origins of gender inequality in Nigeria. Furthermore, current feminist actions do not comprehend the indelible historical status of women in Yorùbá and African societies. Yorùbá pre-colonial society was a gender-neutral, gender-fluid, and gender-silent society. Women played complementary, not competitive, roles to men. Furthermore, this complementarity cannot be deleted or replaced by males. Adetunji (2013, 25) stated explicitly, about Yorùbá society, that 'gender differences does not suggest oppression and domination of one over the other as the case may be in some cultures but a complementary relationship' . They further explained that 'complementary is qualified with neutrality … to refer not to equality or parity but to cooperation and specified areas of control for the female as well as the male' .
Consequently, it is critical to caution against and rethink some contemporary Yorùbá society feminisms. The relevance of liberal feminism amidst the redistribution of resources and female representation are insufficient for a large-scale transformation of gender relations in Nigeria and Africa. Two questions must be asked henceforth -are feminist activities required, and what approach should feminism take in Yorùbá culture? This work 'takes the stance that African feminisms do exist' and are critically needed (Akinbobola 2019, 53). Certainly, there is a vital need for more recognition and redistribution (Fraser 1998), and more female representation in business, politics, education, law, etc. (Chegwe 2014;Njoroge 2016). Furthermore, the need for additional female participation and representation, the transformation of power in gender relations and discourse, etc, must identify with the Indigenous constructed status of women in African societies.
Feminism (scholarship and activities) in Yorùbá society must understand the different gender context of Africa relative to Euro-American cultures. Western feminism is premised on a marked gender hierarchy and binary, while Yoruba society has a different construction of gender. Subsequently, feminist activities should aim to improve the recognition of women as constructed in Yorùbá tradition. As such, feminist movements and digital activists must acknowledge women's activities regarding anti-colonial oppression and their methods. In doing so, feminists must appreciate women's Indigenous status before the arrival of settlers and aspire to build on that status. Yorùbá's gender heteronormative complementarity must be distanced from Western sexism, which influenced Western feminism.

Conclusion and recommendations
A Yorùbá woman is a source of marked status that invokes respect, privilege, esteem, and envy. Akanle, Adesina, and Nwaobiala (2018) asserted that Yorùbá women are not socialised to perform family breadwinning functions; instead, they complement their husbands, the lead breadwinner. The Yorùbá culture marked the two genders with different complementary roles and responsibilities. A female complements a male; she is not subordinate or subjugated to him. Women held clear-cut, enviable positions, unlike those that belittle them in the face of colonial interaction. The man is the head, while the woman is the deputy and not a servant. This can be seen in many Yorùbá spoken words/proverbs, such as Ọkọ Lolówó Orí Aya -'The husband is the head of the family'; yet Igi Lẹýìn Ọgbà mi -'My wife is my supporter' . A famous proverb states Kò sí iyì fún ọba tí kò ní olorì -'no pride for a king without a queen' . This proverb points to the heterosexual norm in Yorùbá culture. Yorùbá people usually frown at promoting unmarried men to authority positions, like kingship. This does not provide sexual material or a punching bag for men; instead, Yorùbá culture provides someone to advise on and revise the king's policies. There must be a queen for every Yorùbá king, and for every adult, there should be a wife(or wives). Femininity is a revered institution in Yorùbá land.
A national education rich in uncontaminated culture and traditions must be recommended in advising Yorùbá and African people on the type and extent of feminist action that is required. Gender inequality and hierarchy were sold to Africa by the West; the same people should not sell the solution to Africa. Oyěwùmí (1997) challenged that the greatest harm of colonialism is the misplacement of African history. Western philosophy is further taken as universalism as it continually influences thought and education systems (Oyěwùmí 2002). Furthermore, research must deconstruct and reconstruct African history (Le Grange 2016) so that the population can identify and improve Yorùbá cultural recognition of females. Students would become alien to their culture and overzealous in correcting gender inequality inherent in Eurocentric education vis-à-vis Western feminism. Also, present feminist activities should be premised on a 'shared text of blackness' (Mangcu 2016). Feminists' actions should identify with African perspectives and seek recognition and redistribution based on Africa's construction of gender.