The Gambia’s new quarrel over reserved seats for women is the latest reminder that our institutions recognise inequality loudly but correct it only when the pressure becomes too embarrassing to ignore.

Development Diaries reports that the debate has opened a window into a system that claims to value representative democracy but continues to run on fuel that shuts women out.

Party structures still hand winnable tickets to the same familiar faces, usually male, well-funded, and well-networked, while telling women to try again next cycle or accept the ‘special’ seats created to keep them out of the main political traffic.

Financing makes it even worse because elections are expensive, and the costs fall harder on women who already carry social and economic burdens.

Many enter politics only to discover that fundraising is its own battlefield, and the rules were written in invisible ink long before they arrived.

Add to that the social pressures, the subtle threats, the open harassment, and the constant reminder that the political arena is still seen as a ‘man’s space’, and it becomes clear that the system is actively discouraging half the population from participating.

No one can pretend not to know who holds the levers, as political parties design the nomination processes that shut women out and parliament designs the legal framework that either strengthens or weakens quota systems.

And electoral bodies decide whether these rules exist only on paper or actually shape competition on the ground. When any of these institutions steps back, women lose ground. And when all three step back together, gender equality becomes a decorative slogan.

Reserved seats are structural tools that correct structural exclusion. So the question is not whether The Gambia should use quotas, as many successful democracies do, but whether the country will design them with teeth strong enough to shift outcomes.

Without women in parliament, laws on health, education, gender-based violence, social protection, and economic opportunity move at the speed of political convenience. Women outside the legislature know this too well.

What The Gambians must insist on now is clarity, transparency, and genuine participation. Citizens deserve full publication of the bill details, not whispered briefings.

Women’s groups, youth networks, disability organisations, and community leaders should be part of the hearings, not brought in at the end to rubber-stamp decisions already made.

And political parties must stop treating competitive seats like family inheritance. If they believe women deserve representation, they should prove it on real ballots, in real constituencies.

Institutions must match this urgency. Parliament should pass a quota law with enforcement mechanisms that cannot be ignored, with sanctions for non-compliant parties, transparent nomination procedures, and clear timelines.

Electoral bodies must enforce the rules without fear or favour. And the government must fund the necessary support for women’s political participation, from physical security to campaign training to transparent financing frameworks.

The Gambia stands at a crossroads, with one direction leading to symbolism dressed up as progress, and the other leading to real representation, where women are not invited into parliament as guests but enter as equals with full political weight.

The country must choose wisely.