Fight Like A Girl: The Warrior Women of Dahomey
So far on our journey through Togo and Benin, we’ve encountered queens, village chiefs, and spiritual healers — all women. We’ve only seen statues of notable women, had our fortunes told by highly respected female diviners, and watched as women poured incantations over good luck charms. Our local guides have all been women. We weren’t permitted to enquire about the number of husbands the village chief has, so we avoided the subject entirely. We observed blessed women dragging fire over their limbs after being consecrated by divinities, and we were told that only women are allowed in the secret society of the Egun.
Actually, we didn’t encounter any women holding these positions. Not one. All of these roles were dominated by men, a norm so ingrained that it barely raises an eyebrow. Only when we see the roles reversed does it feel extraordinary.
Which is why, outside the Royal Palaces of Abomey, when our guide mentions that in addition to the twelve kings who led the powerful Kingdom of Dahomey from roughly 1600 until 1904, intrigue stirs from the ten women in our twelve-strong group, that Benin once had a queen! In this patriarchal society, where women are often excluded from positions of power, we’re thrilled to hear that one has slipped through the cracks…
Well, she didn’t slip through the cracks exactly — more like found a cultural loophole. While only a king could rule, in this part of the world, twins are considered sacred, and so what happens to one twin must also happen to the other.
Our guide tells us that in the early 1700s, King Akaba had a female twin, Atassi Hangbe. When one twin dies, the community won’t say they’ve passed away; instead, they are said to have gone for a nice stroll in the forest. So when King Akaba reached his time to posthumously reconnect with nature, his sister Atassi Hangbe became Queen.
Perhaps sensing the precariousness of her position, she wasted no time during her ultimately short reign in assembling a squadron of fearless warrior women as her bodyguards, known as the Agoji.
(This is the prevailing story of Atassi Hangbe’s rule and her role in establishing the Agoji, though accounts vary. She was never officially recognised in historical records, likely due to her gender.)
Some sources suggest that her father, King Houegbadja, first formed a regiment of skilled elephant huntresses called the Gbeto, which later evolved into the Mino (meaning "our mothers" in the Fon language) or Agoji. Frequent wars and the loss of male soldiers paved the way for women to be given the chance to rise beyond their traditional societal roles.
Regardless of their origins, the Agoji, subjected to rigorous training and discipline, emerged as elite soldiers who fearlessly defended and expanded the kingdom.
Reports describe them as highly skilled marksmen, archers, and experts in hand-to-hand combat with machete-like weapons. Tales of their fighting prowess astonished European explorers, who dubbed them ‘Amazons,’ further bolstering Dahomey’s fearsome reputation. In the Kingdom of Dahomey, being able to ‘fight like a girl’ was no insult.
The Agoji reached their peak during the reign of King Ghezo (1818 – 1858), who officially integrated them into the army. Their numbers swelled to around 6,000, but by the late 19th century, they disbanded following the French colonisation of West Africa. The last known surviving Agoji warrior, a woman named Nawi, lived until 1979, reaching over 100 years old — a warrior to the very end.
Fortunately, the impressive legacy of the Agoji lives on in Benin (and beyond)…
Our wonderful tour leader, Laurence (the only female guide in the region), tells us she has a surprise for us. En route from the stilt village of Ganvié to Porto-Novo, we took a slight detour, stopping in Cotonou, Benin’s largest city.
What we had lacked in female representation in prominent roles so far on the trip was more than made up for — 100 feet over. A towering bronze statue of an Agoji warrior loomed over us, machete in one hand, musket in the other, radiating power. We stood like ants in her mighty shadow.
But, at least physically, the Agoji were not larger than life. They weren’t mythical ‘Amazons’ suddenly forged from fire, or sent from divinities. They were real women — ordinary in origin but extraordinary in action. With strength, discipline and dedication, they didn't just fight for their queen or their country; they made history.
And so, it felt fitting that the largest monument in Benin honoured these warrior women. She even bore a faint resemblance to our tour leader, Laurence. Judging by her strength of mind and character as she leads our little troop through Togo and her home country of Benin, she could very well be a modern-day Agoji.
