How do colonial legacies influence patterns and experiences of intimate partner violence (IPV) among those from previously colonised countries? Dr Yemisi Sloane examines the impact of colonial history on IPV within the British Nigerian diaspora, challenging simplistic cultural explanations and advocating a decolonial approach to understand and address diverse IPV experiences in the UK.
Within the British Nigerian diaspora, discussions surrounding experiences of intimate partner violence (IPV) are often simplistic and reduced to cultural essentialist explanations. Frequently, violence is narrowly attributed to cultural reasons. Yet, the actuality of the experiences of IPV in this community is far more complex, revealing a deeply overlapping matrix of colonial history, hierarchies, identity, belonging, and violence. Using a decolonial approach, we can go beyond surface-level interpretations to consider less-explored complexities that shape patterns of IPV within this community. This involves examining how the overlap of their indigenous and diasporic identities, shaped by colonial history, may affect self-perceptions and interpersonal interactions. It also raises critical questions about the impact of colonial legacies for those from previously colonised countries and how it shapes patterns of interpersonal violence. How does this shape our understanding and responses to IPV in the Nigerian community, considering its colonial past?
Colonial legacies and cultural identity
The colonisation of Nigeria by the British in 1884 was a significant moment in Africa’s history, coming out of the Berlin Conference, where European powers formalised their strategy for dividing the continent. The country that we recognise today as Nigeria was created in 1914 when the British amalgamated their Northern and Southern protectorates to create a single administrative zone. However, this fusion was not merely geographical but also represented the imposition of cultural and social ideals and structures that resonate with the region today. New ‘colonial-structured’ identities were imposed on the locals, for example, the introduction of the English language, which remains the official language spoken in Nigeria today. Notions of femininity were also redefined, characterised as delicate, subordinate, and ‘civilised’. This fundamentally clashed with existing indigenous concepts of femininity, where women often held significant power. In pre-colonial African societies, such as the Igbo community in Nigeria, women played crucial roles in governance and trade. They could own property and participate in decision-making. However, the colonial narrative sought to redefine these roles, imposing a Western patriarchal and religious structure that reclassified and reinforced a gender hierarchy. This colonial framework undermined the existing social order, labelling it as primitive, barbaric, and ‘unladylike,’ an ideology that still shapes gender expectations today.
Despite Nigeria’s independence in 1960, Nigerian citizens continue to grapple with the legacies of their colonisation. As scholars like Dimou (2021) and Maldonado-Torres (2007) note, colonialism should not be viewed as a static historical event but as a persistent unequal power dynamic that continues to evolve and adapt, shaping the collective and individual identities of locals. Contemporary ways of being and knowing remain fundamentally shaped by coloniality.
Discussing IPV within Nigerian communities, especially in the diaspora, must acknowledge this complex historical backdrop that introduced new hierarchies of difference and reshaped identities. There must be a critical understanding of how the legacies of coloniality remain deeply entangled with the identities, interpersonal interactions and lived experiences of Nigerians and how this can shape the patterns of IPV within this community.
The colonial and patriarchal inheritance of IPV within the UK Nigerian community
Research has frequently shown that Black women face overlapping discrimination due to their race and gender. Moses (1989) argues that they are often caught between these dual prejudices and must navigate the complex challenges posed by both. Within this context, Nigerian women are vulnerable to both racialised and patriarchal systems that devalue their social standings. Unfortunately, this may extend to perpetrators’ internalisation of the old colonial practice of instilling a sense of inferiority and powerlessness in those deemed as biologically and socially ‘inferior.’ This leads to perpetrators not only devaluing the gender of their partners but also their shared African heritage, framing it as inferior to the Western culture, norms and values. Here, racism as a colonial power dynamic is not only internalised but placed within patriarchal values in a way that doubles the oppression of victims and requires a high level of obedience and subservience.
Additionally, being classified as immigrants within the British social structure further exacerbates the challenges faced by Nigerian women experiencing IPV. Their immigrant status situates them within a social and political space that is set against a background of discrimination and colonial settler hierarchies.
Understanding IPV through a decolonised lens
A decolonised approach to tackling domestic violence requires a tailored approach that considers the unique socio-historical influences within communities. This approach also recognises that patterns of IPV cannot be fully understood without considering the historical context that shapes the identities, beliefs, and behaviours of the diaspora. For example, although previous research on IPV among migrant women in the UK has highlighted how language barriers often make seeking help daunting, for some, such as Nigerian women who speak English due to their colonial heritage, language may not be an obstacle. Despite this, their non-Western accents can lead to discrimination and prejudice. Accent bias, described by Robert et al. (2014) as a linguistic form of racial discrimination, can significantly reflect broader racial prejudices. However, within this context, it is not isolated and intersects with gender biases. This creates multiple layers of discrimination that affect how Nigerian women experiencing IPV may be perceived, treated, and supported. For instance, this bias can lead to sub-standard service, dismissiveness, or even hostility from those who provide help, who may stereotype victims as less educated, agentic or less credible. Additionally, institutions lacking the ability to manage accent diversity might misinterpret their experiences as purely gendered cultural issues rather than as manifestations of gender inequality. Such misinterpretations create a form of epistemic disempowerment for women where systemic structures and environments integrate disempowerment into the very conditions of participation. This may discourage victims from reporting IPV, potentially trapping them in a system that conditions a cycle of violence due to a lack of understanding. Understanding these biases and their historical roots is essential for creating supportive environments where all victims feel safe and respected.
Additionally, interventions must be informed by the lived experiences of Nigerians rather than a ‘one-size-fits-all-migrant-communities’ approach. This ensures that the fight against IPV is not embedded within a pre-existing system of discrimination and that strategies are impactful within the specific context of each community. A decolonised approach also underscores the critical role that community-specific knowledge and experiences play in addressing IPV among migrant communities and how it is resisted. Such an approach challenges monolithic interventions that fail to honour the unique identities and experiences of members of such communities, further marginalising them.
To address this issue, we must first decolonise our understanding of IPV within the British Nigerian diaspora. Coloniality must be seen as an intersecting structure of inequality that overlaps with other structures shaping the experiences of victims. This proposes a more nuanced understanding of IPV and a shift from explicit or implicit notions that migrant communities are homogenous communities with the same experiences of discrimination.
All articles posted on this blog give the views of the author(s), and not the position of the Department of Sociology, nor of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image credit: Mika Baumeister
