How Pop Culture Shapes Gender Norms

Ramatu Ada Ochekliye, Shades of Us Founder, with Ugonna and Titi on Kiss FM 99.9 Abuja 

By Ramatu Ada Ochekliye

On December 3 and 5, 2025, I joined Ugonna on Kiss FM 99.9 Abuja on behalf of Shades of Us to discuss How Pop Culture Shapes Gender Norms. The conversations were part of our continued commemoration of the 16 Days of Activism against Gender-Based Violence, and they offered me the opportunity to expand on the stories, jokes, lyrics, and images we consume every day.

Pop culture is all around us. It exists in the music that gets us dancing, the films that keep us up at night, the skits that dominate our timelines, and the influencers whose lives we follow closely. Yet hidden within these everyday pieces of entertainment are subtle (and sometimes blatant) messages about gender that shape how society views women, men, and power.

I prefaced by walking us through a journey about how Nigerian and African pop culture still portrays women as accessories rather than full human beings. In many music videos, skits, films, and even books, women appear only as props whose worth is tied to beauty, desirability, and sexuality. Skits often exaggerate stereotypes that paint women as dramatic, greedy, or manipulative, while men are depicted as logical, capable, and the ‘leaders’.

There is also a persistent narrative that successful men must display dominance, wealth, and control. Successful women, on the other hand, are expected to embody beauty, submissiveness, and silence, characteristics not expected of men in any form. These portrayals are not harmless or in isolation of lived realities. They influence how people see themselves and others, and they contribute directly to the gender-based violence we continue to witness.

Pop culture matters. It spreads faster than policy and reaches deeper than classroom education. Young people especially absorb stories from celebrities and influencers long before they engage with formal teaching on gender, safety, or consent. 

Repeated messages begin to feel like truth. Emotional connection to favourite songs or films makes these lessons stick even more. People do not just consume pop culture; they internalise it. Take how mainstream feminism is today. Almost everyone has heard of it, and even if they agree or not, the reaction to feminism is usually visceral because it has become the topic of the day. This was possible because feminists use their art to promote their belief in the equality of the sexes. On the flip side, online fraud in Nigeria has also become the go-to for many young people, a gateway they think is the only way they can be as powerful as the people whose content they consume. This isn’t surprising because almost every blockbuster that has been released from the early days of Nollywood emphasized that rich people got more respect, and crime pays. 

I remember being asked if pop culture was a reflection of society, and it shaped our perception. My answer was simple: it could be both. There were women’s rights activists (and women in all spheres of existence) all through our history, and pop culture has begun to reflect that. We have also had criminal elements that were reflected by the media we consumed. On the flip side, pop culture glamorized crime in a way that was different, removing the angst that should often follow it, and making us desensitized to the real impact of these crimes against people. 

Some of these crimes include gender-based violence, especially those around sexual abuse, harassment, or worse. 

Sexualised portrayals of women make it easier for people to justify harassment because women are already framed as objects rather than full individuals. Jokes that trivialise consent weaken the seriousness of boundaries and make digital violations — like the non-consensual sharing of images — seem acceptable or funny. Skits that present women as liars, gold diggers, or attention seekers influence how society reacts to those who report abuse. Too often, women are dismissed, mocked, or blamed instead of believed.

I see, repeatedly, how online abusers borrow language and stereotypes directly from lyrics, skits, or viral memes. What begins as comedy frequently becomes a justification for harm.

When I look across the Nigerian media landscape, I see patterns that require urgent attention:

1. Music videos: A consistent portrayal of women as objects or trophies.

2. Skit culture: A heavy reinforcement of stereotypes and hypermasculinity.

3. Nollywood: Improving, yet still prone to centering women’s worth on marriage and male approval.

4. Influencers: Many are empowering, but many push restrictive ideas about what “real men” and “good women” should look like.

5. Radio: Casual sexist humour during morning shows continues to influence daily thinking.

One question I often hear is: How do we challenge misogyny without appearing to attack creativity? For me, the answer lies in accountability, not censorship. When someone says something sexist, and they are held accountable, they can either do better or risk losing followers. One song, ‘Story for the Gods’, which became popular in the early 2010s, was called out for being rapey. The lyrics, which could be perceived in multiple ways, were predominantly called out by women for minimizing consent and encouraging rape. The artists did do better, going on to do more songs that stayed within the ambits of respect. His creativity was not stifled. If anything, he became a better artist, growing his fanbase and international appeal. On the flip side, another crooner who was loved by a mostly female base wrote something that promoted rape culture. After he was held accountable, he doubled down, and quite frankly, I haven't seen anything meaningful about him since. People can make mistakes. Most are willing to learn from it. Those who are not are (rightfully) cancelled. 

When young girls are constantly exposed to content that equates their worth to beauty, desirability, or silence, the consequences are significant. Many begin to value their bodies over their abilities, become more vulnerable to grooming, or silence themselves to appear acceptable. Their self-esteem becomes tied to likes, comments, and male approval.

For boys, pop culture often reinforces ideas that masculinity is defined by dominance, control, or aggression. Many aspire to become the “alpha male” figures they see in songs, films, or influencer culture. This shapes entitlement, emotional suppression, and, in some cases, a comfort with harassment or digital violence.

These patterns are not accidental; they are learned.

Culture evolves, as it should. Critique is part of that evolution. Creators can produce engaging, entertaining content without dehumanising women. I believe in:

• Highlighting creators who portray women with dignity.

• Inviting creators into honest conversations about their impact.

• Encouraging audiences to demand healthier narratives.

• Showing that respect and creativity can coexist.

As I wrapped up the conversation on Kiss FM, I reminded listeners that we all have a role to play in pushing back against harmful gender norms. The actions may seem small, but they matter.

• Challenge sexist jokes, lyrics, or skits when you encounter them.

• Support creators who produce gender-inclusive content.

• Share resources and accurate information about online safety and digital rights.

• Model healthy behaviour: respect boundaries, ask for consent, and avoid harmful comments or reposts.

• Teach young people to critically analyse what they watch and listen to.
  
  

Ending all forms of violence against women and girls is the right thing to do. It is necessary, urgent, and collective. Pop culture is powerful, but so are we. Together, we can shape a culture that reflects dignity, justice, and respect for all.