I’m seated staring down at the laptop screen watching as the ending credits roll by when NEPA takes light. Darkness quickly envelopes our living room and soon the dim light projecting from the screen becomes the primary source of illumination for the room. I’m still seated when my brother walks past me with intentions to switch on the gen and finish the project he’s been working on. I’m still seated when he calls out for me to put off the fridge while he drags out the generator. I hear his voice but it comes to me muffled, dulled down. I’m still seated and it’s not until my Mom screams out my name that I’m jolted back to reality, my mental receptors gradually picking up on signals.

Moving slowly towards the fridge, one thought dominates the walls of my mind: Why don’t we have more movies like this?

***

There are infinite possibilities to the road a movie can take and even more so, when that road is leading to a rich diverse kaleidoscopic society such as Nigeria. The stories are immeasurable, the environment is bursting with life, energy and vibrant colours begging to be released on screen. However, the expectations of one—the viewer who has been exposed to the depths of international markets are brutally dashed on sight of the exports released backon the home scene.

In recent times though, we have seen a paradigm shift occur in the quality of movies being produced. Nollywood which had seen its reputation reduced to the bulk of African Magic-esque production with monotonous and cliché plot lines began pulling back her viewers from international front lines. We have something worth seeing, the industry seemed to be saying. Not everybody was convinced though. Some people were of the opinion that an irreversible damage had been done to the psychological state of mind of these viewers. The so called pull back home had seen these international film induced cinephiles examining Nollywood through a foreign lens with microscopic scrutiny where every scene had to be perfect or close to in order to rise above already existing preconceived notions built in their heads. I’d like to strongly disagree with these statements but it’s hard to. The case would’ve been different if the plot holes weren’t jarring and too conspicuous to ignore.

Nevertheless, this glimpse at what the industry could be was intriguing enough to convince them to stay or more accurately observe the industry behind slightly drawn curtains. For some, this peek was enough to spark the fire of curiosity, inevitably leading them down a rabbit hole to the heap of obscure Nigerian indie films that weren’t getting much traction or discourse. Movies that were believed too esoteric or nicheto resonate with the average Nigerian.

That brings us to the question, who exactly is the “Average Nigerian” in this scenario. Is the title limited to the chains of a certain epoch or does this disinterest cut across different generations, affecting both young and old en masse.

When I ask Cynthia (late teens) her favourite Nollywood film, she laughs. “I don’t have a favourite movie o. I don’t even remember the names of the ones I watch sef,” she tells me. Cynthia represents the bulk of Nigerians and in some sense embodies the spirit of our parents generation. Oblivious to the production, BTS, and creative choices taken. It doesn’t matter if the movies are good, great or flat out unoriginal and terrible caricatures, they are seen to mainly relax tired nerves and unwind.

On the other end of our spectrum, or further down Cynthia’s end, we have Amara (also in her late teens). When I make my intentions known about a possible brief Q and A about Nollywood. She’s quick to point out that she isn’t that invested in the industry’s exports. “Not really” her words in response. Why is it so hard to find people who watch Nigerian films, I lament. She in turn retorts, “Why don’t you?” Amara represents the subconscious prejudice towards our movies mentioned earlier. The already negative mindsetrooted deep, merged into our very being.

After sending Juliet (late teens as well) a curated list of the industry’s blockbusters, short films, even throwing in an experimental anthology film (JuJu stories) as well, it doesn’t take long before I get a response: “I’ve seen only one.” The one turning out to be Jade Osiberu latest hit release Gangs of Lagos. At this juncture I can’t help but wonder if I’m interviewing the wrong demographic. I had imagined them to be more informed or rather in tune with the industry’s undeniable progress but that wasn’t the case. Of course it would be quite ludicrous and absurd to limit a generation to just three or four persons but a quick pass around in my lecture hall yields a similar response. It was then it hit me. In the midst of the lacklustre “Just two” and “I’ve seen just one” responses, I realize that the Nigerian director has no audience.

He faces the same dilemma as I do now.

Having no audience in mind is not necessarily a bad thing, I would even argue it’s a good thing since it allows for maximum creativity without second guessing how the audience would perceive the media. However this is not the case with our own. This lack of an audience creates an avenue for doubt and second guessing. He fears that his creative inputs might not resonate well with the audience, even when he has no knowledge about the said audience. And what do you do when you have no knowledge? You research.

According to Wikipedia (as at the time of writing this) the top five highest grossing Nollywood films are:

Battle on Buka Street (2022):₦ 668,423,056

Omo Ghetto: The Saga (2020): ₦636,129,120

The Wedding Party (2016): ₦452,288,605

The Wedding Party 2 (2017): ₦433,197,577

Chief Daddy(2018): ₦387,540,449

What common theme ties these films together that might be responsible for its commercial success? ...Comedy. Now of course, humour is not a bad thing. We all enjoy a good laugh once in a while. However the problem begins to emerge when it starts to become your only export, when it no longer becomes a choice but a comfort zone that places constraints on the creativity begging to be let out.

The Nigerian director takes one look at the list and sees what works, what has been working for decades now albeit with improved cinematography. If it isn’t broken, why fix it? He thinks, and thus continues the industry’ssisphean growth. Individually these movies, although nowhere near masterpieces, manages to achieve its end goal—leaving her audience rolling on the floor, reeling with laughter, but when assembled together, collectively, it paints the industry in a very narrow-minded light. An unrelenting space crawling with dogmatic principles. A nation with such rich multifarious stories that cannot be projected onto the big screen. Why? Because of a nocuous relationship that exists between the director and his audience, where both parties undermine each other’s cognitive abilities: the director holding back on stories because he feels his audience isn’t ready to welcome these unfamiliar ideas with open arms, such a risk deemed too huge and the Audience on the other hand, blinded by prejudice and already in-built notions (I don’t watch Nigerian films).

The availability of streaming services has padded down these fears, risks are no longer seen as gargantuan to embark on and the effects can be noticed in the number of dynamic multifarious stories being told, and although there’s still a presence of a restrain being concealed with gory sanguineous visuals and stunning cinematography, it’s evident that Nollywood is getting to trust her audience. It might not be very well accepted with loving welcoming arms but with time, the audience will come to appreciate these multilayered films sploshed with idiosyncrasies of the Director. Auteurs no longer a foreign concept limited to one or two names in the industry. Nollywood exports being acknowledged by international film award shows, appreciated by the very industry that had wooed and courted her audience.

It’s happening as we speak, with C.J Obasi’s Mami Wata recieving positive reviews from both critics and audience at the different film festivals where the movie has been shown, even winning best cinematography at the prestigious Sundance. The question now being this: Is the home audience willing to take off her chains of prejudiced notions and join the directors in taking the industry to soaring heights where films like The Esiri brothers’ Eyimofe —the one which left me awestruck and speechless — get to experience this commercial success, and upcoming directors can see that Yes his audience is well and ready to accept these unconventional ideas.