INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF RESEARCH AND INNOVATION IN SOCIAL SCIENCE (IJRISS)
ISSN No. 2454-6186 | DOI: 10.47772/IJRISS | Volume IX Issue X October 2025
female suppression that persists even after colonial rule ends. He contends that Soyinka stages a “postcolonial
and feminist rebellion” that nevertheless fails because Sidi and the other women remain constrained by the
patriarchal order (Adhikary 89). By engaging with this kind of critique, the argument may account for how Sidi’s
commodification aligns with broad patterns of gendered exploitation, rather than being simply a comic or
symbolic device.
Similarly, Yaqot Elbechir and Naimi Amara emphasise a feminist perspective in their study, arguing that the
women in Soyinka’s play are consistently marginalised. They show that, in the patriarchal social system of
Ilujinle, Sidi’s beauty and social value derive from external validation, and they question whether Soyinka truly
grants her agency or merely uses her to affirm male-dominated norms (Elbechir and Amara). Their reading
suggests that hybridity in the play is not only a cultural negotiation but a gendered one: Sidi’s body becomes a
site where colonial aspirations and patriarchal structures converge.
A critical discourse analysis by Ochulor Nwaugo Goodseed provides a linguistic dimension to this critique.
Goodseed examines the ideologies embedded in the play’s discourse, showing that Western-inflected marriage
rhetoric and traditional bride-price negotiations both serve to reinforce male dominance, even as Lakunle appears
to challenge custom (Goodseed 982–88). By highlighting how language in the play perpetuates gender hierarchy,
this analysis supports a more intersectional reading: Sidi’s subjectivity is bounded not only by cultural ideologies
but also by discursive practices that limit her autonomy. In further support of this intersectional approach, a
recent article by Ndapunikwa Desdelia David and Haileleul Zeleke Woldemariam explores gender questions in
The Lion and the Jewel using feminist stylistics. They show that semantic derogation, lexis and syntax in
Soyinka’s dialogue often mark women as passive or dependent, while men are syntactically privileged as agents
(David and Woldemariam). Their reading reinforces the idea that Sidi’s agency must be understood in relation
to age, education, social expectations, and the ideological weight of colonial modernity.
To make the article more relevant to present-day African realities, it would be useful to add a section connecting
Soyinka’s themes to contemporary cultural-political debates. Chaabane Ali Mohamed, for example, argues that
Sidi and Sadiku represent symbolic figures of Africa itself—idealised, but deprived of genuine self-
determination (Mohamed 159–75). In today’s world, where African women navigate global media, tourism, and
national branding, Sidi’s photographic commodification resonates powerfully. Her image can be read alongside
modern discussions about how female bodies are circulated in cultural industries, often as exotic or nostalgic
symbols rather than full persons. One might draw on current debates over bride price, gender equity and cultural
authenticity in African societies. As critics increasingly question whether traditional practices like bride price
serve as protection for women or as constraints on their economic and personal freedom, The Lion and the Jewel
provides a literary lens through which to examine these enduring tensions (Adhikary 90). Such a section could
show how Soyinka’s play remains deeply relevant, as it dramatizes power negotiations that mirror real-world
struggles for gender justice, social recognition and economic value in a globalising Africa.
Tensions of Cultural Hybridity in The Lion and the Jewel
Tensions of total immersion in Western culture and the hybrid interplay between modernity and tradition are
vividly dramatised in the three major characters of Wole Soyinka’s The Lion and the Jewel: Lakunle, Baroka,
and Sidi. Among these, Lakunle most overtly embodies Western ideals, positioning himself as the agent of
cultural transformation in Ilujinle. A young schoolteacher, he passionately advocates education, gender equality,
and social reform, often portraying himself as a visionary crusader who must liberate his village from what he
perceives as backward practices. His persistent criticism of traditional customs, particularly the payment of bride
price, underscores his alignment with colonial discourses of civilisation and progress. Lakunle denounces the
practice as a “savage custom, barbaric, outdated, rejected, denounced, accursed” (The Lion and the Jewel 6),
insisting that marriage should conform to Western ideals of love and companionship rather than communal
obligations.
Soyinka portrays Lakunle as a parody of cultural mimicry. His speech is saturated with borrowed European
idioms, and his exaggerated attempts to emulate the Englishman’s mannerisms through his dress, walk, and
speech render him more comical than admirable. In this sense, Lakunle becomes a representation of what Homi
Bhabha (1994) terms the “mimic man,” a colonial subject caught in the liminal space between the coloniser and
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