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

 

In today’s review, we’ll be looking critically at The ‘Koroba’ music video released by Tiwa Savage in 2020 using the Laura Mulvey’s concept of the ‘Male Gaze’ focusing on how the camera frames her body parts, movement, and setting. Then we’ll be applying Bell Hooks’ ‘Oppositional Gaze’ lens to evaluate how a black feminist viewer might reject or reinterpret the framing. We’ll also be considering the balance between empowerment and commodification in the representation of black Nigerian femininity. A large portion of this music video emphasized women’s bodies and even the abuse of it to some extent. So, instead of accepting what we see passively, we will actively question, resist and also reclaim our way of seeing.

In the video, one of the elements of the ‘Male Gaze’ is the extremely exposing outfits that some of the ladies put on and even Tiwa Savage herself. For some it was ‘bump shorts’, miniskirts and some even went as far as putting on underwear. For example, in the salon scene where a number of women were getting their hair done, we could see that some of them were putting on short clothes thereby revealing a large portion of their laps. Some of the women are also seen putting on armless clothes also exposing some parts of their shoulders and chest that should be covered. Another instance of the body exposure and focus was the woman on the football pitch with the men, it’s safe to say she was putting on an underwear because the outfit was totally revealing. The Male Gaze was even displayed in full force when she stood in between the men and they could not take their eyes off her. One of them even attempted touching her body but she resisted with a slap. Looking at that simple act through the ‘Male Gaze’ lens, it could be interpreted as the objectification of the woman’s body. The focus on that woman’s body in the video is displayed as visual pleasure for both the men in the video and the male audience of the video. Shots in that scene lingering on her waist downwards even as she plays the ball, which is automatically drawing the attention of the male viewers to that sight in order for them to gain some kind of pleasure that we’ve already established as Scopophilia

Another aspect I’ll love to delve into is ‘Viewer Identification’. This is seen in this video because I would say that the camera shots, focus and framing are unconsciously and indirectly aligning the viewer with a male character’s perspective. The audience is positioned to identify with the male gaze, encouraging them to look at the female characters as passive objects of male desire. The fact that there were a lot of places in the video that showed women’s exposed bodies already indicating that the video is seen from a male viewer’s perspective. There was a particular place in the video where it was displayed properly that the women were there to give the men visual pleasure and that was at 1:53. This was when Tiwa Savage was shown on TV and it’s safe to say that the men were salivating at her (her beauty) as though she were some artifact placed in the museum for public display. This is one of the ways that we can point out to the fact that women’s bodies have been objectified in some manner. We could say that these visual shots were trying to celebrate Black Female Beauty but it also situates the women as objects of visual pleasure thereby justifying Laura Mulvey’s theory that women are positioned as passive objects in media constructed for the male spectator's perspective.

In contrast, analyzing Koroba through Bell Hooks’ oppositional gaze reveals a deliberate reclamation of agency by a Black woman in a media landscape historically dominated by white, patriarchal perspectives. Tiwa Savage disrupts traditional expectations by positioning herself not just as the subject of the camera’s gaze, but as a woman who returns the gaze—through direct eye contact, confident body language, and vocal authority. Unlike the passive femininity critiqued by Mulvey, Tiwa actively speaks back to the structures that attempt to define or silence her. The lyrics themselves serve as a narrative of resistance, challenging societal double standards and corruption, particularly in Nigerian politics. When paired with visuals of opulence and street-level interaction, Tiwa resists being reduced to a decorative figure; instead, she becomes a dynamic force who critiques and calls out the very system that objectifies and marginalizes women like her. This type of looking—and being looked at—is not submissive but oppositional, reflecting hooks' assertion that Black women have long cultivated critical spectatorship as a survival tool in media that ignores or distorts them.

Moreover, Koroba subverts dominant narratives by showing Black women in varied, empowered, and self-defined roles, resisting the flat stereotypes that media often imposes on them. Throughout the video, Tiwa is not confined to a singular identity but instead cycles through multiple personas—each representing a different facet of womanhood and societal critique. She is at once glamorous and streetwise, political and playful, motherly and militant, thereby rejecting the reductive categories of the "mammy," the "jezebel," or the "strong Black woman" in their most limiting forms. The women surrounding her are similarly diverse in appearance and demeanor, expanding the representation of Black femininity beyond narrow confines. This multiplicity of portrayals supports hooks’ view that the oppositional gaze is not just about resisting representation—it’s about creating new ways of seeing and being seen. By occupying the center of her narrative and styling herself in ways that reflect cultural pride and personal control, Tiwa transforms the music video into a visual manifesto of resistance, offering Black female viewers a mirror rather than a mask.

In the end, Koroba by Tiwa Savage is a music video that can be seen in two ways, depending on how you look at it. On one hand, when we look at it through the Male Gaze theory, it still shows Tiwa in a way that focuses a lot on her body and beauty—almost like it’s trying to please male viewers. Even when she’s playing powerful roles, the camera often highlights her looks more than her message, which is something common in how women are shown in music videos. But on the other hand, when we use the Oppositional Gaze theory by bell hooks, we see a different story. Tiwa takes control of how she’s seen. She looks straight at the camera, she speaks her truth, and she doesn’t just act pretty—she uses her voice to show the power women hold in society. The video doesn’t just show her as a beautiful woman, it shows her as bold, powerful, and unafraid to speak up. This gives other Black women a strong image they can relate to.

So overall, Koroba is more than just a nice-looking music video. It’s a mix of style and message, and it gives us something to think about—how women, especially Black women, can look good, be powerful, and still control their own story.