Nollywood icon Genevieve Nnaji has once again proven why she is regarded as one of the most fearless voices in Nigerian entertainment and social commentary. The 46-year-old actress and filmmaker found herself at the centre of a heated online debate after an Igbo man publicly advised his fellow tribesmen to stop marrying Igbo women and instead seek wives from other African countries, particularly East Africa. What started as a seemingly innocuous celebration of an interracial engagement quickly spiralled into a controversial conversation about tribal stereotypes, false accusations, accountability, and the dangers of broad-brush generalisations.
The controversy began when a photo of a beautiful Rwandan woman, reportedly engaged to a man from Anambra State in south-eastern Nigeria, surfaced on social media. The image, which showed the woman radiating joy in traditional attire, was widely shared and praised for showcasing cross-cultural love. However, one particular Igbo man took the opportunity to turn the wholesome moment into a scathing indictment of Igbo women.
Reposting the photo, the man wrote:
“This is what am talking about! Dear Igbo men, instead of marrying Igbo woman that’ll falsely accuse you of r4ping your daughter, better look outside for wife. Go to East Africa, especially this Rwanda and pick a damsel. They’re all over social media and you can link up with them.”
His statement immediately drew sharp reactions. While some users quietly liked or retweeted the post in agreement, many others condemned it as deeply misogynistic, tribalistic, and divisive. The comment appeared to reference isolated but highly publicised cases where women—some of Igbo origin—had allegedly made false sexual assault allegations against family members or partners. Rather than addressing the issue of false accusations as a societal or legal problem that affects all ethnic groups, the poster framed it as an “Igbo woman problem” and suggested that Igbo men should import wives from Rwanda and other East African countries who, in his view, would be more submissive or less likely to “falsely accuse” their husbands.
Known for her unapologetic feminism and refusal to stay silent on issues affecting women, the Lionsheart producer wasted no time in responding. Under the viral post, she wrote:
“In order words, Instead of checking yourself and taking accountability, go for the unsuspecting and carry on with your evil. Got it.”
Her reply was razor-sharp. In just one sentence, Genevieve reframed the entire conversation: instead of men examining their own behaviour, raising their sons better, or advocating for stronger laws against false accusations, the proposed solution was to abandon Igbo women entirely and exploit women from other cultures who might be less aware of their rights or less empowered to speak out against abuse. The implication was chilling—import a wife who won’t challenge you, no matter what you do.
As expected, the response triggered a wave of reactions. Some praised Genevieve for calling out the underlying misogyny. Others, particularly men who felt the original post was justified, pushed back. One X user directly challenged the actress, writing:
“His tweet was clearly against false rape accusers, but instead of holding the evil women accountable and demanding change, you chose to tweet this?”
Genevieve was ready. She fired back almost immediately:
“The same way a woman can’t tell an abusive man apart from a good one is the same way you shouldn’t say avoid all Igbo women. ‘Not all women’.”
With that single reply, she dismantled the core hypocrisy of the original advice. If the argument was that a tiny minority of women make false accusations (a statistically rare but devastating occurrence), then painting over two million Igbo women with the same brush was no different from claiming all men are potential abusers. Both are lazy, dangerous generalisations that punish entire groups for the actions of a few.
The exchange quickly went viral, reigniting long-standing debates about tribal stereotypes within Nigeria’s complex social fabric. Igbo women, in particular, have historically been stereotyped as “difficult,” “materialistic,” “overly independent,” or “argumentative”—traits that are often celebrated when displayed by men but condemned when exhibited by women. Critics argue that these stereotypes are rooted in resentment toward educated, outspoken Igbo women who refuse to conform to outdated notions of subservience.
Genevieve’s clapback also shone a spotlight on the growing trend of Nigerian men openly expressing preferences for foreign wives, particularly from East Africa. In recent years, countries like Rwanda, Kenya, and Uganda have been romanticised on Nigerian social media as sources of “humble,” “submissive,” and “God-fearing” women who supposedly make better wives than their Nigerian counterparts. While interracial and cross-cultural marriages should be celebrated, the rhetoric often veers into troubling territory, reducing African women from other nations to stereotypes while denigrating Nigerian women.
Many online commentators pointed out the irony: Rwandan women, like Igbo women, are also known for their strength, resilience, and independence—qualities that helped rebuild their nation after the 1994 genocide. The idea that they would silently endure abuse or never speak out against injustice was not only factually inaccurate but also deeply disrespectful.
By Monday afternoon, the hashtag #GenevieveNnaji was trending in Nigeria, with thousands of users—mostly women—weighing in. “She said what needed to be said without raising her voice,” one user wrote. “This is why she’s a legend.” Another added: “Imagine thinking the solution to bad behaviour is to run away and continue the same behaviour elsewhere. Accountability is not a gender or tribe.”
A smaller but vocal group defended the original poster, insisting that Igbo men have been “scorned” too many times in marriage and that “importing well-trained wives” was a practical solution. Some even accused Genevieve of “defending evil women” who destroy families with false allegations.
Through it all, Genevieve remained unfazed. She neither deleted her tweets nor engaged further, allowing her words to stand on their own—a hallmark of her dignified approach to controversy.
At its core, the online spat exposed deeper fissures in Nigerian society: the tension between modernity and tradition, the fear of powerful women, the lingering wounds of tribalism, and the desperate need for honest conversations about accountability on all sides. Genevieve Nnaji, as she has done countless times before, refused to let harmful rhetoric go unchallenged.
In an era where celebrity influence can either amplify division or foster reflection, the actress chose the latter—and reminded everyone why, twenty years after her breakout role in Nollywood, she remains not just a star, but a voice of reason in chaotic times.
