For over three decades, Bose Ironsi, Executive Director of Women’s Rights and Health Project (WRAHP), has been at the forefront of safeguarding women and children in Nigeria. In this revealing interview with Janet Adeyemi and Omotayo Adigun, she talks about the struggles, victories, and future of gender justice—and why giving up is never an option.
Can we meet you?
I am Bose Ironsi, the team lead at Women’s Rights and Health Project (WRAHP), which also manages the Ireti Resource Centre. We are a community-based NGO dedicated to tackling gender-based violence (GBV), domestic abuse, and child exploitation.
WRAHP has built a strong reputation for community-based interventions. What story best reflects your impact?
When we began in Alimosho, our focus was on awareness and trust-building. Over time, we realized survivors needed a safe space. That’s why we set up the Ireti Centre.
One case that stays with me is of a 34-year-old woman with three children who had endured years of physical and emotional abuse. Through counselling and mediation, her family regained stability. When families are stable, society benefits.
Another case involved a child abuse offender—we ensured he was arrested, prosecuted, and is now serving a life sentence. For sexual violence, our stance is clear: we don’t mediate; we act. We work closely with the police to ensure justice is served.
The EnCare app has been described as a game changer. How has it improved GBV reporting and response?
The app was a gift from a sister who believed in our work, and it has truly transformed how we respond to survivors. Many victims can’t afford to travel or fear reporting abuse. EnCare offers anonymity and accessibility. So far, over 70 survivors have used it, and reports now come from across Nigeria. It’s user-friendly—even people with disabilities can navigate it. It has helped us respond faster and save more lives.
Despite progress, GBV remains deeply rooted in Nigeria. What systemic challenges persist, especially in Lagos?
The political will is there, but cultural norms still silence many survivors. Fear of judgment and retaliation is real.
The justice system is slow—cases can drag for years. Most survivors are poor and can’t afford repeated court visits or therapy. That’s why we advocate for funders to cover costs like transportation, arrests, and counselling. Without that support, survivors give up.
Also, mental health is often overlooked. Survivors need more than legal victories—they need healing.
Funding for NGOs in Nigeria is unpredictable. How has WRAHP maintained sustainability?
Transparency and community trust. Our funders see our impact—they visit communities and even refer us to others.
We also listen to communities; their feedback shapes our programs. During COVID-19, when palliatives were distributed, the CDC chairman requested that 20 survivors be included. That told us the community values our work.
We are building staff capacity and keeping our team motivated. The First Lady once donated a new bus—we took it to the community to show it belongs to all of us.
READ ALSO: In bid to address GBV, other abuses, WRAHP takes legal clinic to PWDs in Lagos
What’s your assessment of Lagos State’s policy framework on SGBV?
Lagos has made progress. The Domestic Violence Law was ahead of its time, and they’re now integrating the VAPP Law. There’s also the safeguarding policy and Child Rights Law.
But many people don’t even know these laws exist. We simplify and share them so people can claim their rights. Laws must be used, not shelved.
Justice delivery must also be faster. Special courts exist, but we need them to function better. Rural areas like Epe and border communities need more presence.
Has WRAHP influenced any local or state legislation?
Yes, we are part of the Lagos State Domestic and Sexual Violence Response Team and contribute to state and national laws, including the VAPP Law and the Disability Rights Law.
We also fight attempts to weaken these laws and work on safeguarding policies for schools, churches, and workplaces. As Nigeria’s local affiliate for safeguarding, we push for broad protection—not just for women, but for all.
You’ve been doing this for 35 years. What keeps you going?
This is my life’s work. My vision cannot die with me. Seeing progress keeps me going—communities now report violence, survivors are getting justice, and our work is recognized locally and internationally.
I recently won an award from Femlex, a regional network. Even the men in Alimosho’s CDC once baked a cake to celebrate Ireti Centre’s first anniversary. That meant a lot.
I’m mentoring the next generation because this mission must continue beyond me.
Finally, what advice do you have for emerging advocates and social workers?
This work is tough—you’ll face pushback, and it will drain you emotionally. But don’t stop.
Don’t work in isolation; build partnerships. Be accountable—the money funders give you isn’t yours, it’s for the cause. Stay consistent. Equip yourself. Ask questions. And when it gets tough, don’t fold.
Above all, fight for what’s right even if you’re standing alone. That’s what I’ve always done.