Across Nigerian campuses, street corners, and social media feeds, a disturbing trend is taking hold — young women violently attacking one another, often over romantic relationships. From physical assault to public shaming and even poisoning, the cases are brutal, frequently filmed, and shamelessly shared online. Beneath the surface lies a troubling mix of toxic masculinity, digital voyeurism, and a justice system that too often looks the other way.

One such incident rocked the Ogun State Institute of Technology, Igbesa, in June 2025. A video that quickly went viral showed a female student being viciously beaten with canes by fellow students. The attackers, all women, appeared methodical, undeterred by pleas from bystanders. One, identified only as Lolade, took the lead with chilling composure, declaring, “Our mothers know what we’re doing. We don’t care who she tells.”

Their justification? The victim allegedly “snatched” someone’s boyfriend.

What should have been a private dispute escalated into a public spectacle, a coordinated attack framed as justice but rooted in humiliation. The victim was left with swollen welts and shattered dignity. Worse still, online reactions to the video revealed a toxic echo chamber, with many users defending the assault rather than condemning it.

"Serves her right," read one comment. "Girls don too dey overdo," said another.

This type of violence, often romanticised or downplayed, reflects a society where male infidelity is tolerated and female rivalry is weaponised. Instead of solidarity, women are turning on each other — not against oppression, but in defence of relationships that often privilege the man at their expense.

In another chilling video, this time from a hotel in Abuja, a mother and daughter are seen in a violent confrontation — allegedly over the same man. The mother, enraged, slaps her sobbing daughter while a man stands between them, silent and motionless. The daughter begs, "Mummy, please… I didn’t mean to." Her pleas go unheard.

Recorded by a neighbouring guest disturbed by the commotion, the footage raised questions nationwide: Was this a case of shared delusion? Mental breakdown? Or simply the byproduct of a transactional view of love where romantic partners are tied to survival, not affection?

Though some online speculated that the women were sex workers pretending to be family for protection, many believed they were truly mother and daughter. Regardless of the truth, the damage — and the shame — was real. The man at the centre of it all remains unidentified and untouched, a ghost around which the women's lives unraveled.

Another incident unfolded on the campus of Olabisi Onabanjo University. Two female students fought publicly, allegedly over a man one had approached under the guise of selling products. A crowd circled them, phones out, recording every slap and scream. The aftermath: a torn wig, a cracked phone, and reputations left in tatters.

What unites these cases is more than jealousy. It’s a convergence of patriarchal influence, digital sensationalism, and a warped sense of loyalty that pits women against each other. In a society where emotional pain is dismissed and male betrayal normalized, women are increasingly channelling their hurt inward — and then outward, toward one another.

Law enforcement, while occasionally responsive, has rarely been proactive. The Ogun State Police Command said it was investigating the Igbesa assault, but such assurances often fade with the news cycle.

As more of these violent encounters play out in real-time for a voyeuristic audience, one thing becomes clear: this is not about love. It’s about power, pain, and a social system that teaches women to see one another as enemies in a competition where men remain unscathed — and often, unseen.

Until that changes, more dignity will be lost. More bruises will be inflicted. And more phones will keep rolling, capturing the downfall of sisterhood in the name of love.