Bimbo Akintola believes there’s a global shortage of men

From film sets to podcasts, her voice has become an ongoing cultural commentary, sometimes startling, often divisive, always intriguing.

About a month ago, she sat across from Gloria Young on a podcast and dropped a statement that felt like a thunderclap:

“I don’t know where this idea of fidelity came from in Africa. The majority of our men cheat. I mean, your father cheated, your grandfather cheated. My father has two wives. So, I don’t know where it came from… 90% of men cheat. It’s ingrained in them.”

It was a declaration that collapsed fidelity, history, and tradition into one sweeping generalisation. The words rippled across social media, with some nodding knowingly, others rejecting the reduction.

And now, in a new interview on Talk To B, Akintola has returned with yet another opinion in the same orbit: there is a “shortage of men,” she claims, and the logical solution is for women to embrace polygamy.

These two positions, men cheat because it is ingrained in them, and women should embrace polygamy because men are scarce, raise uncomfortable but necessary questions about fidelity, culture, and gender politics in contemporary Nigeria.

Polygamy, Scarcity, and the Gender Argument
In her latest interview, Akintola pivots the conversation. Fidelity aside, she claims there is a “shortage of men,” urging women to embrace polygamy. According to her, this is both traditional and practical.

She recalls older Yoruba homes where multiple wives were the norm, but goes further, citing modern examples of women who have encouraged their husbands to take second wives, sometimes for sexual balance, sometimes for peace of mind.

This is provocative, yet it raises a different kind of question: is polygamy truly about scarcity, or is it a way to rationalise male randiness?

While it’s true that African traditions made space for plural marriages, the framing of polygamy as a solution to modern gender imbalances risks reducing women to competitors for dwindling resources; men as scarce commodities, women as bidders.

Myth, and Excuses
What makes Akintola’s take most controversial is her insistence that infidelity is ingrained in men. This is where culture becomes an excuse.

By casting cheating as biology, men are absolved from responsibility. Masculinity is tied to conquest: the more women a man handles, the more respected he is among peers.

Meanwhile, the double standard is glaring. A man who cheats is excused. A woman who cheats is disgraced, divorced, or worse. Culture often protects male indulgence while policing female restraint.

This myth of inevitability does more harm than good. It conditions young men to see fidelity as impossible, and young women to see loyalty as unrealistic.

Raising Sons
To her credit, Akintola offers a pathway, though one that complicates her own argument. She insists that if monogamy is to survive, it begins with parenting:

“Raise your sons the same way you raise your daughters. Teach your sons that their body is the temple of God, the same way you teach your daughters.”

Here, she identifies a blind spot in African parenting. Boys are often raised with permissiveness, taught entitlement, and given excuses. Girls, meanwhile, are saddled with rules, caution, and shame.

By advocating equal rigour, Akintola inadvertently acknowledges that fidelity is not ingrained, but taught. If boys can be raised to respect boundaries, then fidelity is not foreign; it is possible.

The Battle Between Tradition and Tomorrow
Bimbo Akintola’s words may provoke anger, agreement, or laughter, depending on who is listening. But beyond the headlines, they force us to confront a deeper truth: African marriages sit at the crossroads of tradition and modernity.

Polygamy is part of our past, fidelity is part of our present struggle, and gender equality is part of our future hope.

The challenge is to decide which inheritance we want to pass on: the resignation that men will cheat or the insistence that fidelity is a choice every man and woman can make.