At its core, the issue is not just about mental illness or marital fidelity. It is about how accusation becomes conviction, how culture is weaponized into cruelty, and how silence enables injustice. As long as madness is seen as punishment rather than illness, and as long as tradition is used to control and silence women, stories like Nkoli Ugwu’s will continue to unfold in communities across Nigeria.Main
Inside communities where women accused of infidelity face ancestral wrath, a tapestry of fear, silence, and cultural control is woven into the very fabric of daily life. In many parts of southeastern and central Nigeria, particularly among the Igbo and Igala peoples, the mere suspicion of a woman’s unfaithfulness can unleash a chain of events that devastates families, ruins reputations, and, in the most tragic cases, destroys lives.
Nkoli Ugwu’s story is emblematic of this harsh reality. Once a respected wife, mother, and businesswoman in Nsukka, Enugu State, she was known for her industrious spirit and warm presence. Her provision shop was a hub of community interaction, and her laughter was a familiar sound. But all of that changed when whispers of infidelity began to circulate. Despite her repeated denials and the absence of any concrete evidence, the accusation alone was enough to upend her world.
Her sister, Chinyere Offor, recounted how the community’s elders were summoned, and a supernatural explanation was quickly adopted. “She refused to confess, and after that, she continued living her life as a normal wife, as if nothing had happened. I can’t say she did it, but I had seen her with the man they suspected, though never in a compromising situation,” Offor explained. The lack of proof did not matter. Soon, Ugwu’s mental health began to deteriorate. She was seen talking to herself, acting erratically in her shop, and eventually, she was abandoned by her family and community, left to wander the streets in rags, her dignity stripped away.
In the eyes of many, her “madness” was not a medical condition but a divine punishment, a public confirmation of her supposed guilt. Her children, devastated and helpless, could only watch as their mother became an object of ridicule and pity. No psychological evaluation was conducted, no hospital intervened, and compassion was in short supply. The community’s response was not to seek treatment or understanding, but to accept her suffering as the will of the gods.
Ugwu’s ordeal is not an isolated case. Across Nsukka, Arochukwu in Abia State, and among the Igala people of Kogi State, similar stories abound. Women accused of infidelity often on the basis of rumor or circumstantial suspicion are subjected to intense social stigma, forced to undergo humiliating cleansing rituals, or abandoned to their fate. The consequences can be dire: mental illness, mysterious physical ailments, or even death, all attributed to the wrath of ancestral spirits.
In Arochukwu, Adanna Okoro described how her sister-in-law, Judith Amadi, was accused of infidelity and soon after began to suffer from mental health issues. “In our culture, it is a grave offence for a married woman to cheat. People believe it can make her mad or even cause the husband’s death if appeasement is not done,” Okoro said. Despite the lack of evidence, Amadi was ostracized and eventually forced out of her home. The double standard is glaring: while women are subjected to harsh punishments and rituals, men who cheat face no such consequences. “They can keep concubines openly, and tradition accepts it,” Okoro lamented.
These traditions are deeply rooted in the belief that ancestral spirits vigilantly guard the sanctity of marriage. In Nsukka, the Nd’ishi or Nna Di tradition holds that a married woman who engages in extramarital relations, or even acts considered equivalent to sex, such as intimate touching—will suffer supernatural punishment. The rules extend beyond sexual fidelity: women are forbidden from making monetary donations without their husband’s consent, and widows are barred from sexual relationships while living in their late husband’s home. If a woman cooks for her husband after committing adultery, it is believed she risks causing his death.
Among the Igala, the Ibegwu tradition is equally unforgiving. A traditional leader, Ayegba Abdullahi, explained that if a wife is unfaithful and the required appeasement rites are not performed, death may follow, first the husband, then the children, and finally the woman herself. “If a man cheats, nothing happens. Men are believed to be naturally polygamous,” he said. The tradition is so pervasive that Igala women are often advised to marry within the ethnic group to fully understand and navigate these cultural expectations.
For many women, the only way to escape the consequences of an accusation is to perform elaborate cleansing rituals, which often involve public confession, the sacrifice of animals, and the presentation of food and drink to the elders. In Enugu-Ezike, for example, a woman who confesses to infidelity is taken to her father’s house to repeat the confession, after which her family provides the items demanded by the gods. The eldest woman in the husband’s family oversees the cleansing, and only after the rituals are completed is the woman considered free to resume her life. However, repeated offences may lead to the dissolution of the marriage.
Despite the severity of these traditions, there are signs of resistance. Some women, like Doris Abuh, have begun to challenge the double standard, insisting that the rules of fidelity apply equally to both spouses. “I told him that any day he strays, I would follow suit; he cannot cage me,” she said of her husband. Others, like Gabriel Adama, have called for the abolition of these practices, arguing that they have caused more harm than good and are incompatible with modern values of equality and justice.
