As the Federal Government continues to bite at citizens expressing opinions about the way their country should be run, Nigerians can currently find something that gives some joy and pride.
It is one thing to deny grave structural defects which manifest in all forms and shapes (including the repeated disobedience of instructions from the Inspector General of Police by his own men across the country), it is another thing for government spokespersons to make enemies of people who ventilate ideas about the country they love.
While conceding that not every view on national development is practicable, even altruistic, the government of the day should serve like a father whose psyche is able to absorb and condone all sorts of tendencies. But Nigerian leaders and their minders are what they are. Perhaps, like a lot of other things that are inverted in Nigeria, we are growing a democracy wherein citizens should develop the capacity to tolerate their leaders, warts and all rather than the other way around. But I digress, forgive me.
Every Nigerian, who can, regardless of their post, should see and be proud of recently released Netflix original film, Oloture. If for no other reason, this movie boldly tells an authentic Nigerian story. And for that reason, it has brought honour, which politics and leadership scarcely bring upon Nigeria.
Within 24 hours of its release, the movie was within the top 10 on the Netflix charts in seven countries out of which only two were African. By the next day, it was within the first 10 most-watched movies in 14 countries including Brazil, France, Russia, Saudi Arabia, Switzerland, Ukraine, and the United Arab Emirates. And by Monday, October 2, three days after its premiere, Oloture became the only black story of the top 10 on the Netflix Movies Chart in the entire world! Now, if that is not significant, kindly tell what is in a country where hope falls fast like withered leaves.
It is worthy of note that this is not just a Nigerian story, it is one told in its entirety by Nigerians in an industry mostly started and nurtured by the sheer resilience and resourcefulness of ordinary people. The idea of telling the story as championed by the adventurous human resources expert turned media tycoon, Mo Abudu, is itself a celebration of Nigerian journalism. This is given the fact that the story was said to have been inspired by Premium Times’ Tobore Ovuorie 2014 undercover report with the title “Inside Nigeria’s ruthless human trafficking mafia.”
It is inspiring that in spite of Nigeria’s political economy and the failure of governance, Nollywood, (although not without its own challenges, a lot of which are fallouts of the failures and malaise in the larger society) is trudging on and raising a new generation of professionals working to make the nation proud.
The director, Kenneth Gyang, and a phenomenal cast, which include Sharon Ooja, Omowunmi Dada, Beverly Osu, Kemi Lala Akindoju, Adebukola Oladipupo, and Sambisa Nzeribe tell of the incredible talent of young Nigerians and their ability to take hold of an industry that has continued to put Nigeria on the global map in spite of little or no institutional support. This fervour and innovation of youth are seamlessly married with the experience that the likes of Patrick Doyle and Yemi Solade as well as people on the fringe of both ends like Omoni Oboli and Blossom Chukwujekwu bear on the story. So, from story to screenplay to producing to directing to acting and photography, Oloture tells of the capacity of Nigerians, young and old, for efficiency.
But it does also tell amply of one other thing: the fact that when merit is given its pride of place and prosperity is given space to breed, Nigerians can indeed unite to do great things. So, here is the fact: in the production of Oloture, literarily every part of Nigeria is represented on the cast and crew. And it is doubtful that while on set, questions about religion, ethnicity and the divisions they bring on the country ever came up. This, to my mind, should show Nigerian leaders that the country suffers no greater crack than the dearth of opportunities and the abundance of lack in our country.
Incidentally, this is another point that the film effectively drives home with the character of Linda (Omowumi Dada), her sister, Beauty, and the largely compliant and unmotivated Blessing (Lala Akindoju). Even if Linda displays so much enthusiastic naivety in the adoration of Alero (Omoni Oboli) and her capacity to make her stride on what she estimated to be the gold-paved cities of Europe, the fact that Linda and eventually, her sister, are drawn into the web by their needs was convincingly dropped on us. In Blessing’s case, being an orphan in an uncaring society has inflicted her with the Stockholm syndrome wherein oppression has become nourishment and her quest for freedom is at best timid and half-hearted. Gyang, in the development of his characters, deploys a striking creative use of the director’s absolute discretion. He highlights the minutest detail in the psychology of his characters and this has a sterling effect on their effectiveness. Another example of this is Ehi. Described by her conflicted editor as “a journalist with more bravery than sense,” Ehi embodies this description on a number of occasions in this 106-minute movie including her decision to go on with the story without any plans and the attempt to escape from the bus. This is also the case with the subtle, almost imperceptible indictment of the officers of the trafficking protection agency. The Officer’s (Yemi Solade) unspoken yet initially dismissive disposition to the report that the eponymous character, Ehi (Oloture), might be in danger. The fact that he had no single officer to immediately respond to Mr Okoye’s (Chukwujekwu) report proves to be the thin line between life and death for Linda as it is on many occasions when law enforcers can’t respond in Nigeria.
The succeeding blood splash is the height of the emotional purgation that this film offers. In all of it, Oloture opens the hitherto judgemental person to another view. You are confronted by the existential pressures that lead young girls and boys into this path of seeming hope laced with mines. The honest viewer might be gripped with empathy and identify personal near misses that ultimately evoke fear about how close we may all have been to this evil that tears at the humanity of people. You end up realising that these young ladies are most often than not, victims rather than villains.
This is the perspective that all Nigerians must understand. While hosting German Chancellor, Angela Merkel in August 2018, the President, Major General Muhammadu Buhari (retd.), registered his discontent with Nigerians who engage in illegal migration. Among other things, he said: “We have made it very clear that we do not support anything illegal and anybody who feels this country does not offer him what he should be offered as a citizen, and decides to defy the desert and the Mediterranean, is doing it at his own risk.” I invite the President to see the film under discussion. So should members of the National Assembly, leaders of the judiciary, the 36 governors, local government chairmen across the country, and everyone in a position to inspire respect for the humanity of Nigerians and show some compassion on the people.
Written by Niran Adedokun
