Who Owns Her Image? Male Gaze vs. Oppositional Gaze in Tiwa Savage’s ‘Koroba’

 

 

I was intrigued while I was watching Tiwa Savage's "Koroba" video. The colors, the outfits, and the whole vibe is very captivating. But then, after the initial "wow" factor, I started to think about something deeper, who gets to decide how we see her? It felt like a lot was going on beneath the surface, you know? Is she being presented in a way that's supposed to be sexy and appealing, or is something more powerful happening?

Looking at this video from these two amazing thinkers we've been learning about, Laura Mulvey and Bell hooks. They have these exciting ideas about how we look at images, especially of women. Mulvey talks about the "male gaze," which is basically, it's about how women are often shown through a man's perspective. And hooks talk about the "oppositional gaze," which is like a way of pushing back against that, especially for Black women who haven't always had control over their image. So, I will be using these two lenses to unpack what's going on in Tiwa Savage’s song "Koroba."? It might give a completely different understanding of who's really in control and what messages the video is really sending about women's image, so it's more than just the music video. It can go further than that. It is an understanding."

From the opening scenes, Tiwa Savage is presented in a highly self-aware manner, engaging in deliberate posing and projecting an image of glamour. This immediately evokes Laura Mulvey's concept of the "male gaze." Mulvey argued that in traditional cinematic representations, women are often depicted according to male desires, essentially becoming objects of visual consumption. The initial presentation of Tiwa Savage in this video seems to align with that perspective, suggesting a potential framing of the artist primarily as a visual object, raising questions about her agency in controlling her own image. Her image is not in question, but its purpose may be, so it causes a lot of questioning about what the purpose of this image is.

Mulvey has a term, "to-be-looked-at-ness," which basically means the woman is there to be looked at. In "Koroba," you see it in the close-ups of Tiwa's legs, her waist, her lips. It's like the camera is zooming in on the parts that are considered "sexy," and framing them in a way that's supposed to be appealing. It kind of feels like the camera is a dude, checking her out. The camera seems to have a mind of its own and is checking her out.

It's like the camera becomes this invisible guy who's just focused on her hotness more than anything else. She's moving with confidence, but it seems like the camera's more interested in her sexuality than her actually singing or telling the story of the song. It makes you wonder, is she in charge of her own image, or is she just a spectacle for someone else's enjoyment? Her body is what makes her the spectacle, nothing else, so it almost seems she is a robot.

But then, I started thinking, "Wait a minute, is it really that simple?" Because Tiwa is also staring right back at the camera. And that's where bell hooks comes in. Hooks talks about this thing called the "oppositional gaze," which is like a comeback, especially for Black women who haven't always had the power to control how they're seen. It almost seems as if we have more insight when she's looking back at the camera.

Bell hooks basically said that Black women haven't always been allowed to look at things, or to have their own opinions. So, when they do look back, it's a way of taking power. In "Koroba," Tiwa Savage stares right into the camera, like she's challenging you. She's not just being looked at, she's looking back, and it's like she's daring you to underestimate her. It felt like she was trying to seduce me at that point, or the viewer.

And it's not just her gaze; it's her outfits too. Some people might say her outfits are just about being sexy, but I think they're more than that. They're like a kind of "cultural armor," like she's taking back control of her own body and sexuality. It's like she's saying, "I can be sexy and powerful, and it's my choice." The sexy outfits can symbolize her power as an artist. The outfits and the way she presents herself aren't just about seduction; they're about class, power, and making herself visible in a political way. She's singing about how people in Nigeria are quick to judge others about money and morality, and her lyrics are actually a little bit rebellious. So, it's not just about looking good, it's about making a statement.

There's this really interesting tension going on, on the one hand, it feels like her body and her image are being used, maybe even exploited, to sell the song and grab attention. But on the other hand, she's also clearly using her voice, her lyrics, and her own carefully constructed image to say something that actually matters. It's like this constant push-and-pull, this back-and-forth that makes you think of both Mulvey and hooks. It's this struggle between potentially being objectified, just a pretty face to look at  , and actively taking back control of that narrative, flipping the script, and making her own statement.

For Black female viewers, especially, Tiwa's boldness might be more empowering than just erotic. She's showing that you can be glam and sexy, but also strong and independent. She represents this contradiction: she's a "glamorized object" but also a "powerful narrator" of her own story.

In the end, you can't really understand "Koroba" without using both of these ideas. Mulvey helps us see how women's bodies are used to sell stuff. But hooks helps us see how Black women like Tiwa are pushing back against that, using their voices, their looks, and their power to challenge the way they're seen. It's like she might not totally escape the male gaze, but she's definitely confronting it, making it more complicated, and maybe even taking it back in her own way. She's owning the image as a powerful artist.