I Want to Be One of the Many

How many African women are actually aware that the Women's Africa Cup of Nations is going on? I’m not talking about women in Europe or anywhere else, I mean us, right here.

Let’s be honest with ourselves, do we even know when and where the next Women's World Cup is happening?

The reality of how our spaces are treated hit me hard recently. I was sitting at a sports viewing center in my area, watching a match. Usually, the energy in these places is loud and electric, but because women were on the screen, the vibe was entirely different.

The guy sitting directly behind me kept hissing and repeating a phrase that flared me up:

"This women football seff, them just dey play rubbish, abeg change it to a movie channel make we dey watch."

I didn’t just let it slide. I confronted him right there. I was too angry to be quiet. Because his dismissal wasn’t just about a ninety-minute game, it was about how easily people brush off women’s efforts.

I am using football as an example here, but this exact same thing happens in almost every industry. It is not that women aren't present. We are represented. We are in these spaces, putting in the work, sweating it out, and breaking barriers. But the volume is turned all the way down. The representation just isn't loud enough.

And because it isn't loud enough, we get trapped in this exhausting narrative. We are conditioned to celebrate being "the first woman to..." or "the only woman in the room." We clap for it because fighting your way into those rooms takes blood and sweat. But lately, I’ve realized how dangerous that narrative is.

Listen to men talk about their ambitions. You will never, ever hear a man say, "I want to be the first man to achieve this," or "I want to be the only man at the table." They never even have to think like that. Male success is the default. The doors are already open, and the rooms are already full of people who look exactly like them. They just get to focus on being great. Women should have that exact same privilege.

When I think about my own ambition to step into sports commentary, my goal isn't to be the lone female voice in the booth defending our players from guys like the one at the viewing center. I don't want to be the token woman they point to just to prove they are inclusive.

When we romanticize being the "only" one, it creates a mindset of scarcity, as if there is only one chair available for a woman, so we must fight each other for it. I don't want that. I don't want to be an anomaly.

I want the commentary booth to be crowded with women. I want the airwaves to be dominated by us. I want to walk into a viewing center and see it packed with women screaming for other women, so loud that nobody can ignore us.

I don't want to be a pioneer standing alone on a mountaintop. I don't want to be the exception to the rule. I want to look around and see a sisterhood doing the exact same thing.

I don't want to be one of the many because the standard has been lowered. I want to be one of the many because the doors have finally been blown wide open.

I just want to be one of the many.