Sexism in Congo’s parliament: why women mps remain targets despite laws

On 15 May 2026, sexist and misogynistic remarks from the speaker’s podium at the national assembly shook congolese politics. In a widely shared video, national mp micheline mpundu finishes reading her information motion and steps away from the podium. The second vice-president, christophe mboso, who was presiding over the plenary session, publicly comments on her physical appearance from his seat: “Thank you, colleague, she is very beautiful… huh.”

He continues in lingala: “Look at her yourselves” and laughs louder, raising his hands to mimic the shape of the mp’s body while adding: “God created her” and “these are another man’s things,” to the applause and laughter of the chamber. The session continued as if nothing had happened.

Only after outrage from certain political figures, social actors, and human rights activists, along with internal pressure from his superiors, did mp mboso apologise several days later. He faced no disciplinary action.

This recent case of sexism and verbal violence raises an important question once again: when will african parliaments, and especially that of the democratic republic of Congo, cease to be hostile spaces for the women they are supposed to represent?

My doctoral research in political science also explores masculinity issues within congolese legislative bodies. I analyse what this video reveals from an african comparative perspective. I do not see it merely as an isolated lapse, but as a structural problem. In this article, I examine the gap between what drc authorities have committed to guarantee on paper and what elected women actually experience.

Comparative analysis of a phenomenon not exclusive to the drc

Parliamentary violence is part of the broader range of violence women face in politics, both in the drc and elsewhere. Long before the video implicating mp mboso began circulating in Kinshasa, other scenes of sexism had been documented. These incidents highlight the severity of a phenomenon that hinders women’s full participation in politics at all decision-making levels.

Women’s participation surged in the early 1990s with democratisation waves that raised real hopes, propelling an unprecedented number of women into african parliaments. The number of female legislators tripled between 1990 and 2010. I remember reading these figures with astonishment the first time. For a long time, the stubborn illusion persisted that gaining elective office would transform institutional culture. That illusion quickly shattered. Because this presence — and here lies the paradox — was perceived as a challenge to the established system.

It encountered deep structural resistance, often from male colleagues, whether from the opposition or the same party. Some believe, and occasionally state openly, that politics is a male domain, that women are unwelcome or have no place there.

The inter-parliamentary union, the global organisation of national parliaments founded in 1889, has thoroughly documented this. In its 2016 global survey of women parliamentarians from 39 countries across five continents, over 65.5% of mps reported having suffered repeated verbal attacks and insults during their term. These statistics are alarming. Yet they speak volumes about parliamentary realities.

Much of this violence comes from male colleagues. Interestingly, the study also highlights how society views elected women. It is not their political record that is questioned, but their very right to be there, debated in the media. They are assessed not on their political contributions, but on their appearance, marital status, and conformity to traditional roles as educators or mothers.

Sexism does not stop at the parliament doors. It enters with the mps, settles in, and sometimes flaunts itself from the podium itself, as we have just seen in the drc. The regional study conducted jointly by the inter-parliamentary union and the african parliamentary union on african parliaments (dated november 2021) confirmed that this reality persists, with insufficient progress in women’s effective political participation.

The applause heard in the video is not trivial. It reveals that the problem is not mr mboso, but the system that produces and tolerates such behaviour — the same system that australian philosopher kate manne analyses as a control mechanism that keeps women in a subordinate position, even in so-called democratic institutions. And this control does not always involve physical violence. Gestures, words, laughter from the podium — what mona lena krook, a specialist in violence against women in politics, calls semiotic violence — suffice to remind elected women that, in the eyes of some colleagues, they remain bodies before being legislators. A reality illustrated by mboso raising his hands to mimic his colleague mpundu’s body.

The coloniality of gender, a concept developed by feminist maría lugones, explains the naturalisation of the hierarchy between the sexes as a colonial legacy and helps illuminate this contradiction: women parliamentarians are elected by the same voters, in the same polls, under the same constitutional texts as their male counterparts. Yet they remain subject to patriarchal control systems that reduce them, including from the podium, to something other than legislators. They have equal rights on paper, but unequal rights in the chamber.

African cases

Watching the mboso video, many must have thought of other african countries: in Senegal, mp amy ndiaye, pregnant, was slapped and kicked in the stomach in 2022, in front of cameras in the chamber. In 2025, nigerian senator natasha akpoti-uduagha was suspended not for professional misconduct, but for daring to name the sexual harassment she suffered from the senate president.

It is no coincidence that ndiaye, akpoti-uduagha, and mpundu — three women from three different countries — experienced these acts of violence. They demonstrate that while african parliaments tolerate women’s voices, their dignity is not yet fully respected.

Congolese cases

On 30 april 2020, thambwe mwamba, former president of the congolese senate, belittled a woman during a plenary session, a scene broadcast on national television. He revealed all their secret meetings, claiming that senator bijoux ngoya had approached him to seek his support for her candidacy for the position of quaestor of the senate bureau. He subtly accused her of making advances. The plenary session ended in chaos, with many mps expressing indignation.

On 15 july 2021, while mp christelle vuanga was dismantling a colleague’s arguments during a constitutional debate, nsingi pululu interrupted her with just these words in lingala: “You are a woman.” A way to diminish her ability to speak publicly on that sensitive issue simply because she is a woman.

The mboso affair is not surprising. The drc has ratified conventions, adopted laws, signed commitments, and yet nothing has changed within the chamber. The gap between text and practice is not new and has been documented. What is new is that people continue to pretend not to see it.

A continuing reflection

French feminist activist simone de beauvoir wrote in 1949 that women were defined as “the other.” In 2026, this otherness persists in the congolese parliament: elected women mps continue to be reduced to their bodies rather than their political speeches.

These incidents signal that the patriarchal system undermines democracy from within. As long as sexist behaviour remains unpunished — as shown by the applause in the video without any sanction against mr mboso — the congolese parliament will remain a misogynistic place, despite supposedly representing the women who sit there: 65 women out of 477 mps, barely 13% of the chamber in a country where women represent nearly 51% of the population. The fact that they are underrepresented in no way justifies tolerating such behaviour.

Other parliaments have found solutions with campaigns such as #NotTheCost (NDI) and #NotInMyParliament (european parliament), proving that a culture can be changed with concrete sanctions and victim protection. The drc has good laws. The project on violence against women examined in the senate in october 2025 is an example. But a law without implementation remains a wish. Silence is no longer an option. Not sanctioning mr mboso sends a clear signal to all congolese women considering a political career.