When 'I Do' Doesn't Mean Forever Yes

In 2016, Nigerian superstar Tiwa Savage shocked the nation when she revealed on camera that whilst she was giving the world hit songs, she was being hit at home by her then-husband Tee Billz. She described bruised eyes and swollen lips, and wept as she spoke. Yet when the marriage ended, many Nigerians blamed her, asking why she did not try harder to keep her home. This reaction reveals something troubling about how we understand consent in marriage. It suggests that once a woman says "I do," she has agreed to endure anything, including violence. It treats marriage vows as a permanent surrender of choice. The question before us asks whether mutual consent is enough, or whether there should be limits to what married couples can do sexually. My answer is this: mutual consent is enough. There should be no list of forbidden acts for married couples who truly agree. But that answer means nothing unless we first understand what mutual consent actually requires. And in marriage, real consent is far more complicated than we admit. Consent, in its purest form, is simple. It is freely given, informed, enthusiastic, and revocable. But marriage does not exist in a vacuum of pure choice. It exists within histories of male dominance, within money problems, within social pressure, within families and communities that judge and interfere. The law itself shows this confusion. Nigeria's Criminal Code treats unlawful carnal knowledge as something that can only occur outside marriage. Section 282(2) of the Penal Code goes further, stating that sexual intercourse by a man with his wife is not rape, except where the wife has not yet reached puberty. The law assumes that marriage itself is permanent consent. This is not unique to Nigeria. Until 1993, marital rape was a crime in all fifty American states only after a long, painful legal battle. In 1978, Greta Rideout became the first American woman to charge her husband with rape whilst they were still living together. After his acquittal, the defence lawyer told reporters that perhaps rape was simply the risk of being married. The jury had agreed. Even today, many countries either do not criminalise marital rape or treat it as less serious than other rape. The pattern is global: marriage is still widely understood as granting permanent sexual access. The Violence Against Persons Prohibition Act of 2015 tried to change this in Nigeria. It expanded the definition of rape and removed the marital exemption. But this progressive law has only been adopted by fewer than half of Nigeria's thirty-six states. In the remaining states, the old laws still apply. A woman can be forced by her husband and the law offers her no protection. Research on coercion within marriage reveals a troubling pattern. Women describe consenting to sex they did not want because refusing meant facing anger, days of silence, or being called a bad wife. A survivor once put it plainly before a legislative committee: complying with your abuser is not consenting. You are in survival mode. A woman may say yes because she fears violence. She may say yes because her money comes from her husband. She may say yes because her church or mosque taught her that refusal is sin. She may say yes because years of conditioning have taught her that her body is not wholly her own. She may say yes because, like Tiwa Savage, she fears what people will say if she leaves. Is that consent? Legally in many places, yes. Morally, that requires a harder conversation. The claim that mutual consent alone is sufficient rests on an assumption of equality. It assumes both partners have equal power to refuse, equal freedom from consequences, equal ability to stand up for their own limits. But marriages contain power imbalances. One partner may control the money. One may have greater physical strength. One may have family support whilst the other is isolated. This does not mean the government should police bedrooms. The limits we need are not about specific acts. They are about harm. The line should be drawn at coercion, at exploitation, at violation of bodily autonomy. The relevant questions are not what but how. Not what acts occurred, but whether they occurred through manipulation, through threats, through the exploitation of dependency or fear. The historical path is instructive. Sir Matthew Hale wrote in 1736 that a husband cannot be guilty of rape upon his lawful wife, because by their mutual consent and contract, she had given up herself in this kind unto her husband, which she cannot retract. We have moved, slowly and painfully, away from that position. Many societies are part of this journey, but most are not there yet. Mutual consent is enough, but only when it is truly mutual, truly free, and truly respected. Anything less is not a marital right. It is harm dressed up in vows.

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