Nollywood’s political struggle

How has Nigeria’s film industry responded to the protests of #EndSARS?

At the #ENDSARS protest in Lagos. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

As Nigerians trooped to the streets in October to demand an end to police brutality, Nollywood was present. Online and off, actors and filmmakers made themselves useful in the most far-reaching display of people power recorded in Nigeria since the return to democracy in 1999. The demonstrations, known as #EndSARS, began after a viral video uncovered the gruesome murder of a young man by operatives of the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS), a notorious unit of the Nigerian police force. They ended tragically after members of the army were dispatched to the Lekki toll gate in Lagos to fire bullets at peaceful protesters.

Favorites from Nollywood, Nigeria’s film industry, were active and engaged. From lending their influential voices and drumming up international support, to attending protest venues physically and mobilizing relief materials and useful information. Actresses Kate Henshaw and Rita Dominic were photographed at the Lekki venue, fists clenched and raised in a show of solidarity. Hilda Dokubo made rallying videos that were widely circulated, and Genevieve Nnaji penned an open letter to President Muhammadu Buhari asking that he show some empathy to his electorate. Hint: He did not.

All of this conscious activity may have been surprising to many, but it shouldn’t be really. Nigerian arts have a long, documented history of political activism dating back to the heyday of Fela Kuti. But the film industry has been just as engaged, with filmmakers churning out material that actively engages with the socio-political issues of the time.

This activism has not been clearly defined of late even as—aka Nollywood—has recorded an upswing in international attention this past decade. In June 2020, streaming giant Netflix kicked off its “Made by Africans, watched by the world” media campaign that had Nollywood as one of the key anchors.

Nollywood’s appeal has long been based off the persuasion and power of representation. Following years of colonialism and dictatorship, Nigerians were searching for themselves on screens.

Films particularly fiction, remain complex industrial and social engagements. A product of their cultural and social environments, the modes of production, distribution, and exhibition go a long way in determining the content.

Chris Obi Rapu’s Living in Bondage exponentially expanded the audience base of the straight-to-video format in 1992. This same mass appeal has alas been the bane of Nollywood. The ultra-low budgets, limited technical capacity, relatable stories, and modest distribution structure that made Nollywood content readily accessible also made it hard for proper investment in films. Thus, Nollywood content is likely to end up on the disposable rather than definitive spectrum.

Even so, filmmakers have striven to reflect the country around them in modest ways. Living in Bondage, for all of its entertainment value, is a critique of the overt greed and fast wealth environment of the 1990s, a period highlighted by a spate of killings and trade in body parts. This wealth was often directed to finance political campaigns. Amaka Igwe’s Rattlesnake details the crippling lack of a social safety net for the underprivileged. Both films—updated recently for a new generation by actor turned director Ramsey Nouah—are proper examples, not just of Nigerian crime stories, but of filmmakers inspired by the communities around them.

These films tended to incorporate positive depictions of police officers as defenders of law. If there was blame to be shared, the bulk of it went to the corrupt system that made it next to impossible for the police to function effectively. Tunji Bamishigbin’s Set It Off rip-off, Most Wanted had hardworking officers pursuing a gang of wily female bank robbers.

With his films Hostages and Owo Blow, Tade Ogidan broke from this narrative, depicting overt abuse of the social contract through acts of police brutality. Hostages in particular features a thrilling chase sequence that has the police at the behest of a wealthy patron, deploy helicopters and fancy weaponry to hunt a private citizen whom he considers an enemy.

With the police force becoming increasingly redundant to the average Nigerians, Nollywood films like Issakaba reflected this self-sourced pivot towards vigilante groups and private outfits to meet the security needs of communities.

Ego Boyo produced 30 Days, the debut actioner by Mildred Okwo about a team of female vigilantes killing off corrupt politicians. 30 Days is packed with subtext that criticizes citizen apathy and calls for a bloody revolution. It was never released widely. Okwo would follow up with the tamer The Meeting, a hilarious send up of bureaucracy in government offices. At the Lagos premiere, the minister of petroleum amongst other political heavyweights was in attendance.

Further Reading