From Weaponized Tradition to Cultural Celebration: Can Ozoro Festival Learn From Oke’Badan’s Rebranding?

ASABA, NIGERIA — In the wake of the Ozoro Festival scandal, where viral videos exposed horrifying acts of sexual violence and misogyny, debates have erupted over whether such deeply entrenched traditions can be rehabilitated or should be outrightly abolished. The Delta State Police’s recent arrests of six suspects, including a community leader, have done little to quell public anger, with many accusing authorities of merely paying lip service to justice.

The incident has reignited conversations about the misogynistic undercurrents in Isoko culture, with some critics labeling the Ozoro Alue-Do Festival a “weaponized tradition” that perpetuates violence against women under the guise of cultural celebration. One Isoko woman, who spoke out anonymously but passionately, did not mince words.

“From inception, the Isoko tradition is highly misogynistic!” she declared. “These men see absolutely nothing wrong in their evil. They will break kolanuts, make fine statements, claim the practice has been rested, and boom—it explodes in our faces again.”

She recounted how Isoko culture historically shields abusive and wayward men, describing scenarios where women are forced to apologize to their husbands even after being abused. “The Isoko general culture provides covering for misogynistic and wayward men,” she added. “When a man infects his wife with Hepatitis B due to his promiscuity, it’s the woman who gets blamed.”

Anote Ajelouruo, a Culture Expert, however is concerned about the over generalisation of the issue where the baby should not be throwaway along with the bathtub. “I think this is skewed and needless characterisation,” he says. “Do you know when this festival started? Did our forefathers/foremothers know science the way we know it today? So when we make some sweeping generalisations and fail to take context into account, we risk sounding like broken records and missing the point entirely in the name of women’s liberation, ala feminism or whatever. Everybody condemns the barbarism of some misguided youths in what happened. But is that enough to mischaracterise the festival?”

Anote believes that framing and context matters, even though women argue that there’s an inherent flaw in the reasoning behind the festival as it specifically targets women’s fertility. That assumption, many women say, is at the root cause of the aggravated sexual violence captured in many videos that buttresses, not just a generalisation but a reality.

Anote argues that, “Long before science told us men and women can also be barren, the burden was usually women’s to prove in all societies, Europeans et al. Only when a woman leaves a man and bears children with another man were such ‘baren’ women exonerated and the men, if they also failed to have children with other women, deemed to be barren as well. It’s a concept known in Isoko as Ọga (barrenness). It applies to both men and women. So to say an ‘unscientific’ society should also have poured sand on barren men’s genitalia is stretching the argument out of context and forcing modernity into what didn’t exist back then. Note, sand wasn’t poured in women’s genitalia, but on their stomach to cleanse whatever was making them not to bear children!”

Anote argues that asking that the tradition be abolished is case of mismatch in advocacy. “Even ancient Rome and Greece had their fertility rites. But you know, once it’s in Africa, that is when we cry loudest against it, because we didn’t take time to document, and so it must be barbaric. But we happily study similar rites from Rome and Greece in universities. That some miscreants misbehaved is no reason to denounce the sacred traditions of any people, whether Ozọrọ/Isoko or anywhere else! Vigilance should be the word, so it’s not hijacked the way this one was done,” he noted.

The Oke’Badan Example: From Chaos to Culture
But can such traditions evolve? Journalist and historian Temilade Adeyemi offers hope, sharing how the once-problematic Oke’Badan Festival in Ibadan transformed from a toxic, misogynistic spectacle into a respected cultural event.

“In the past, the Oke’Badan Festival was a nightmare for women,” Temilade recalled. “If a woman sat by a bus window, men would reach in and grope her. They sang vulgar songs about female genitals, and women dared not come out once festival groups were approaching.”

The festival, once seen as a free-for-all excuse for debauchery, has undergone a dramatic rebranding in recent years. Today, it is celebrated as a cultural treasure, showcasing Egungun masquerades, traditional performances, and communal pride.

“I don’t know exactly what led to the change,” Temilade admitted, “but the difference between the past and the present is very clear. Women can now safely participate in the festivities. It’s become a celebration of identity rather than an excuse for abuse.”

Can Ozoro Follow Suit?
The question now is whether the Ozoro Festival can undergo a similar transformation. Development communication (DevComm) strategies suggest that rebranding such a “weaponized” tradition requires a multi-layered approach that addresses cultural, social, and institutional barriers.

1. Community-Led Reform
   For the Oke’Badan Festival, change likely came from within. Community leaders, cultural custodians, and local influencers must be engaged to reshape the narrative around the Ozoro Festival. Instead of using the event as an excuse for lawlessness, the focus could shift to celebrating Isoko heritage through music, dance, and storytelling.
2. Public Accountability
   Temilade’s account of Ibadan’s transformation underscores the importance of holding organizers accountable for the behavior that occurs during festivals. For Ozoro, this means ensuring that perpetrators of violence are not only arrested but prosecuted. Statements like those issued by the Delta State Police must be followed by visible action to rebuild public trust.
3. Women’s Participation
   One of the most significant shifts in Oke’Badan’s evolution was the inclusion of women in the festival space. For Ozoro to evolve, women must be given leadership roles in planning and organizing the event. Their voices are crucial in shaping a festival that prioritizes safety and inclusivity.
4. Cultural Education and Rebranding
   Rebranding the festival will require a deliberate effort to highlight positive aspects of Isoko culture. Workshops, school programs, and media campaigns can help reframe the event as a celebration of community pride rather than an excuse for misogyny and abuse.
   The Role of Media and Social Pressure
   Social media backlash played a key role in exposing the atrocities at the Ozoro Festival, forcing authorities to act. However, Temilade’s example from Ibadan shows that social pressure must evolve into sustained conversations about reform. Journalists, activists, and cultural historians must lead the charge, documenting harmful practices and advocating for change.

Temilade herself is preparing to investigate another controversial festival, the Oloolu Masquerade Festival, where women are still forbidden from seeing the masquerade. “In this modern age, such restrictions can be seen as barbaric,” she said. “Perhaps deeper research can spark conversations about how these traditions can evolve.”
Can Ozoro Be Saved?
The Ozoro Festival scandal has exposed the darker side of cultural traditions, but it has also opened the door for reform. If the Isoko community can take a cue from Ibadan’s Oke’Badan Festival, there is hope for transformation.

“Traditions are not set in stone,” Temilade concluded. “They can evolve to reflect the values of modern society while preserving their cultural essence. It’s up to the community to decide whether they want to cling to the past or build a better future.”

For now, the spotlight remains on the Delta State Police and the Isoko leadership. Will they seize this moment to enact lasting change, or will the Ozoro Festival remain a symbol of misogyny and violence? Only time will tell.

---