The Rise of LagASS: Lagos, BBLs, and the Beauty Economy
Credit: Instagram/levithephotographer
Last year, I spent collectively around two months in Nigeria, mostly in Ibadan - a cultural and fairly modest city that can feel worlds apart from the frantic and overcrowded energy of Lagos, my mother’s hometown. On one of my mandatory visits to Lagos, in October, I found myself quite literally wide eyed. Sitting in the lobby of a hotel in Lekki, I couldn’t help but notice something impossible to ignore and that was multiple women with strikingly large, accentuated bums.
Now, for the past decade or so, I’ve been aware of the global buzz around Brazilian Butt Lifts (BBLs) but having spent most of my adult life in London, spotting a BBL in the wild isn’t exactly commonplace. I had always associated the phenomenon with social media “baddies” and cities like Miami and Atlanta, where the cosmetic surgery industry thrives – and big bums are the beauty standard. Lagos, however, surprised me. The prevalence of BBLs was something I hadn't anticipated, especially after living in Ibadan, where the pace is slower, the lifestyle is more traditional, and society is less cosmopolitan in comparison to Lagos. All in all, this had shielded me from noticing what appears to be a very prominent “beauty’ trend: BBLs!
Brazilian Butt Lifts
The BBL era starkly contrasts the beauty ideals that defined the 1990s and early 2000s. Back then, thinness reigned supreme, albeit sometimes paired with a large bust in the 2000s. In this era, big bums were neither celebrated nor desired; instead, they were frequently the subject of ridicule. Women with fuller figures often made self-conscious remarks about whether their “butt was too big.” At the same time, the term “fat ass” was commonly used as a derogatory insult, highlighting the stigma attached to curvier body types.
A Brazilian Butt Lift is a cosmetic surgical procedure that involves transferring fat to enhance the size and shape of the buttocks, typically to achieve an (exaggerated) hourglass silhouette — a small waist and a fuller and voluptuous bum.
The procedure gained widespread popularity in the early 2010s, largely thanks to Kim Kardashian, who helped glamourise the hourglass silhouette, bringing the curvaceous aesthetic into mainstream consciousness. High-profile celebrities like Nicki Minaj and a wave of social media influencers also propelled this ideal, while in Atlanta where stripper culture intersects with pop culture, larger bums often translate to greater earnings. By 2014, the cultural shift was undeniable, with Vogue magazine declaring, “We’re officially in the era of the Big Booty.”
However, the BBL trend has not been without controversy. White women, like the Kardashians, have been idolised and celebrated for embodying the hourglass figure. Yet, Black women—many of whom naturally possess similar body types—have historically faced a starkly different reality. Rather than being celebrated, their bodies were often mocked or objectified.
Take Sarah Baartman, the 19th-century South African woman who was taken to Paris in 1814 and displayed in London's Piccadilly Circus, where she was exhibited as a "freak". Her body became the subject of scientific and medical scrutiny, with European researchers using her body to develop theories about Black female sexuality, which would go on to shape racist ideologies for centuries. Her exploitation and dehumanisation reflect a long history of Black women’s bodies being objectified, sexualised, and reduced to exotic spectacles.
One of the most troubling aspects of contemporary beauty standards is their inherent fluidity and arbitrariness. Women around the world, influenced by the relentless pace of fashion and pop culture, feel an increasing pressure to conform to ever changing ideals.
At present, the pendulum in the Global North seems to be swinging towards thinness as the gold standard of beauty. This shift is a reminder of an unsettling and jarring reality. With each new wave of beauty standards, sidelining and marginalising those who do not conform to the current ideal. This not only shows that the concept of outward beauty is a moving target, but it also perpetuates a cycle of exclusion, where those who do not fit into the narrow mould of the moment are quietly deemed as less attractive and effectively erased from pop culture and representation.
The Nigerian Beauty Standard
Generally, the Nigerian beauty standard has never been rooted in thinness, as is often the case in the Global North. Nigerian women are traditionally seen as most attractive when their bodies have more volume, particularly in the bust and hips. However, when extending this notion of beauty to skin tone, it becomes clear that lighter skin holds a privileged place in the hierarchy of desirability. I explored this dynamic in a previous article, titled "Bleached," where I examined the preference for fairer complexions.
With the growing influence of Western culture, especially the BBL aesthetic, there has been a noticeable shift toward favouring exaggeratedly curvaceous body types. These body types now hold a lot of sexual and social currency in some circles, where a woman’s relevance is often measured by her figure. This aesthetic is particularly evident in the popularity of corseted aso ebi styles, which have dominated the Nigerian fashion scene in recent years. These styles, designed to emphasize an hourglass silhouette, have become the de facto choice for many women, reshaping traditional cultural wear. the increasing demand for cosmetic surgery; liposuction and BBL procedures are now among the most sought after surgeries in Lagos and Abuja, home to the country’s leading cosmetic surgery clinics, with these procedures typically costing over ₦4 million.
A recent academic study by Emmanuel Nwakanma examined how liposuction and BBLs influence courtship behaviours and perceptions of women. The study found that 78.3% of respondents believed that these cosmetic trends contribute to the objectification of women as sex symbols. Motivations for undergoing these procedures often stem from perceived physical flaws, the desire to enhance social connections—such as gaining access to certain jobs—and the need to satisfy intimate partners. These findings align with earlier research by Nikolic et al. (2013) and Brown et al. (2007), which identified factors such as poor self-evaluation, the desire to feel more feminine, and issues surrounding self-esteem and social acceptance as key predictors for elective cosmetic surgery.
Cosmetic Regulations in Nigeria
Today, the booming BBL industry operates in an alarmingly unregulated environment, leaving patients vulnerable to unqualified practitioners and heightened health risks. Several clinics and doctors offering cosmetic surgeries lack the requisite skills or expertise, often resulting in complications, including mortality. Despite the intricate and high-risk nature of procedures like liposuction and BBLs, the regulatory framework in Nigeria allows virtually any licensed medical doctor to perform these surgeries without additional qualifications or specialised training in cosmetic surgery.
The governing legislation, the Medical and Dental Practitioners Act CAP M8 Laws of the Federation of Nigeria 2004, sets out the conditions for medical practice in the country. However, it does not mandate specific credentials for practising in specialised fields like cosmetic surgery. Under the Act, any individual registered with the Medical and Dental Council of Nigeria is legally entitled to practice all aspects of medicine, including cosmetic procedures. The law penalises only those who operate without registration, leaving a critical loophole that permits doctors with basic medical qualifications but no specialised training to undertake complex and invasive cosmetic surgeries.
This lack of oversight has created an environment where patients are at the mercy of practitioners who may lack the technical expertise to safely perform these procedures. Unlike in many other countries where additional certifications, rigorous training, and ongoing education are mandatory for cosmetic surgeons, Nigeria has no minimum standards for education or qualifications in this field. This regulatory gap has led to a proliferation of quack clinics and unscrupulous operators, further compounding the risks for patients seeking BBLs and similar surgeries.
As captured by Nwodo in an academic paper;
“most cosmetic operations are exceedingly difficult, necessitating a high level of anatomical understanding, surgical abilities, and aesthetic appreciation. Indeed, only a professional cosmetic surgeon will be in the best position to recognize the particular circumstances that may enhance the chances of a negative surgical outcome. However, one method to reduce this danger is to ensure that the professional who is going to perform surgery on a patient has been adequately trained and is competent.”
Reports have revealed that there have been multiple deaths as a result of bad practices across private clinics in the country. In 2024, a Lagos-based doctor, Idra Bassey, was declared wanted in connection with the death of a 36-year-old woman who died following a BBL procedure at her clinic. Similarly, in 2018, Dr. Anu Adepoju, founder of MedContour Services Ltd., was convicted after the death of Nneka Onwuzuligbo, a patient who suffered fatal complications from an unsuccessful surgery. These issues emphasise not just the glaring medical negligence but also speak on one of the greatest ongoing societal issues: prioritising financial gain over ethical responsibility.
This culture of unchecked ambition and profit-driven malpractice reflects the systemic ills within Nigerian society. The commodification of every possible industry, medicine included, has created a society where quick financial gains often overshadow diligence, expertise, and conduct. The normalisation of cutting corners in the pursuit of success – or even sheer laziness is rife and requires addressing on all accounts.
Final Thoughts
The arbitrary nature of beauty standards speaks to a global issue: the relentless commodification of women’s bodies, and the pressure placed on them to constantly evolve and adapt to new definitions of worth and value. What is deemed beautiful today may be deemed irrelevant tomorrow. In this respect, beauty becomes less about individuality and more about conformity to a constantly shifting ideal, leaving women in a loop of chasing an unattainable vision of perfection. Morgan writing in “Women and the Knife: Cosmetic Surgery and the Colonization of Women’s Bodies.” states:
“ The beauty culture is coming to be dominated by a variety of experts, and consumers of youth and beauty are likely to find themselves dependent not only on cosmetic surgeons but on anesthetists, nurses, aestheticians, nail technicians, manicurists, dietitians, hairstylists, cosmetologists, masseuses, aroma therapists, trainers, pedicurists, electrolysists, pharmacologists, and dermatologists. All these experts provide services that can be bought; all these experts are perceived as administering and transforming the human body into an increasingly artificial and ever more perfect object....”
For Nigeria, it’s uncertain whether the rise in BBLs highlights a broken society and superficial society. On one hand, it reflects a troubling reality where women’s value is regularly tethered to their proximity to men whether through romantic relationships or transactional arrangements. For some, altering their bodies therefore becomes a means of increasing their "marketability," a strategic adaptation in a society that disproportionately disadvantages women, so the pursuit of beauty becomes more than aesthetic—it becomes strategic.
There is a strong relationship between beauty and privilege and studies consistently show that women who conform to beauty standards often enjoy higher status and increased access to power, whether socially or professionally. In Nigeria, this dynamic is also pronounced. As explored in prior discussions, some women leverage their sexuality as a pathway to social and financial mobility in a system offering few viable alternatives. This results from a country that places barriers to economic empowerment and maintains a culture of male dependency. So, when assessing the presence of elective surgery, it does pose the question that scholars have long debated: is surgery an act of self-determinism or oppression? The latter, argues that elective surgery serves patriarchal agendas designed to benefit the male gaze. By woman altering their bodies to fit societal ideals, they inadvertently uphold a system that commodifies their appearance. On the contrary, those who argue agency, stress self-determinism and women’s ability to achieve self-fulfilment separate from societal pressures, hence it is less about meeting external demands. Nonetheless, it is clear that cosmetic surgery exists at an intersection - whereby individual choice and societal influence mix and rethink how we view beauty.
Ultimately, with its lax regulations and unscrupulous practitioners, the cosmetic surgery industry is again a microcosm of this larger issue: The love of money. The fixation on wealth infiltrates nearly every aspect of Nigerian life, from politics to religion. But as society begins to degrade economically and socially, one can only predict these matters will become worse.