Does Nollywood reflect the Nigerian society?

CHUKS OLUIGBO

Twenty-year-old Kemi Olukoju has just been admitted to the Central European University in Budapest, Hungary, to study Economics and Political Science. She is full of excitement as it is a fulfilment of a childhood dream of studying her choice course outside the shores of Nigeria. She hopes to return to Nigeria after her studies to contribute her quota to nation-building.

It is her first day in class. The lecturer, Prof Jurgen, a German, while taking the class on Introduction to Political Science, after introducing himself, requests each student to introduce themselves and their country of origin. Everyone takes turns to do so.

When Kemi introduces herself and mentions Nigeria, Prof Jurgen retorts: “Nigeria? Oh, Nigeria. Your people are very bad people. Their hunger for money is insatiable. Get-rich-quick syndrome. They do everything and anything for money, including ritual murder. They don’t believe in hard work. They kill even their own blood for money. Kingship tussle is their trademark. They are always fighting for one throne or the other, to the point of killing their fellow human beings. Too bad!”

Kemi is transfixed, lost for words. When she finds her voice, she manages to ask: “But Prof, how did you come about this conclusion?”

“Oh, why not?” Prof Jurgen replies. “We see it every day. I’m an ardent watcher of Nigerian movies, and it’s all there in virtually every movie that comes from Nigeria.”  

Like Prof Jurgen, many people consider what they see in movies, indeed all works of art, as a true reflection of life in the society that produced such works. Of course, art is an imitation of life, as the great philosopher Aristotle postulates. This means that a work of art necessarily mirrors society or reflects happenings in society. And these works of art would include literary works (prose fiction, drama, poetry), fine arts (painting, sculpture, etc), films, as well as other forms of art. So, are Nollywood films a true portrayal of Nigerian culture and society?

What is today known as Nollywood began about 20 years ago, precisely in 1992 when Kenneth Nnebue released Living in Bondage, a film about a man who joins a secret cult, kills his wife in a ritual sacrifice, gains enormous wealth as a reward, and is afterwards haunted by the dead wife's ghost. Riding on the back of the success of that first attempt, other film producers followed suit, leading to the birth of a multi-billion naira industry that is today considered second only to agriculture in the employment of labour in Nigeria.

Over the years, several themes have been explored by several filmmakers. Prominently, there have been movies on family life, love and romance, politics, crime, kingship tussles, among others. But one storyline that has remained dominant in Nigerian movies is that of rituals and ritual murder – as portrayed in Living in Bondage: a man suffers abject poverty, does odds and ends to liberate himself from penury to no avail, is introduced into cultism by an old friend who seems to have made it big time, engages in ritual sacrifice, becomes wealthy, and then sooner or later begins to suffer the consequences. This very storyline has become all too familiar. One can conjecture that over half of all the movies produced in Nollywood bear a trace of this, only there are slight variations here and there. The same motif runs through such films as Living in Bondage, Blood Money, Across the River, The Billionaires’ Club, The Contractors, The Vultures, Across the River Niger Bridge, etc.

The questions to ask are: Are Nigerians really ritual murderers as portrayed in these films? Do Nigerians visit native doctors at every turn to obtain one medicine or the other to eliminate their enemies or those opposed to their ideas? The answer is a categorical no. While one cannot rule out the presence of bad eggs in every society, the proverbial Judas in every twelve, it is indeed regrettable how Nollywood movies have glorified these few bad eggs, making them the rule rather than the exception that they really are.

For instance, Living in Bondage, written by Kenneth Nnebue and Okechukwu Ogunjiofor and directed by Chris Obi Rapu, and which featured such actors as Kenneth Okonkwo (who played the role of Andy Okeke), Nnenna Nwabueze (who played Merit, Andy’s wife), Kanayo O. Kanayo (Chief Omego), Francis Agu, Okechukwu Ogunjiofor, Dan Oluigbo, Ngozi Nwaneto, and a host of others, was hailed for its close resemblance to reality, its verisimilitude. However, there were others, the critical audience, who saw the movie as taking imagination too far.

It is therefore debatable whether it is the movies that mirror society or the other way round. For indeed, many among the critical audience have argued that the society has actually learnt some of its negative tendencies from movies. Doesn’t it appear that the evil of ritual murder has actually multiplied in our society in the wake of the proliferation of these movies on ritual murder? In fact, it’s as if the movies give fresh ideas to would-be ritual murderers, pointing them in new directions, to new ways of doing it.

Again, take the theme of kingship tussle, as represented in films like Royal Battle, Royal Disaster, Kingdom in Disaster, Royal Bastard, and many others. In many traditional Nigerian (nay, African) societies, there is a belief that the king is born and not made. Kingship tussle is very rare because succession to the throne is usually by inheritance through the practice of primogeniture. Where succession by inheritance is not the norm, then there usually will be a solid succession plan on ground as spelt out by the oracle, and everybody naturally follows suit because any attempt to thwart the wishes of the oracle will produce grave consequences. But this fact is not portrayed in Nollywood films. Rather, what we see is a situation where individuals who stumbled on money but who do not have any claim to the throne suddenly emerge to fight over the throne with the true heir, and the elders who should speak out shut their mouths and eyes and pretend not to see anything, and even the chief priest of the oracle is sometimes bought over. And, most annoyingly, and contrary to known facts, these evil acts sometimes come without any consequences to the perpetrators.

As such, today in many Nigerian communities, particularly in Igboland, kingship tussle has become almost an everyday occurrence. It has torn communities apart, turned brothers against brothers, led to fratricide, and stalled progress in many communities.

In the face of this, should one blame Prof Jurgen for jumping into the conclusion we see at the beginning of this piece? The answer may depend on individual perception. Yet it bears to state, in the end, that Nollywood reflects Nigerian society and culture only to an extent. To a larger extent, it misrepresents. And this misrepresentation serves to worsen the bad press that Nigeria already suffers among the comity of nations.

A world without beggars?

CHUKS OLUIGBO

Imagine a world without beggars! That is what some states in Nigeria have set out to achieve – a world where you will drive freely through the traffic, or walk freely through the bus-stops, sidewalks, pedestrian bridges, marketplaces, worship places, etc without fear of being harassed, harangued, embarrassed, taunted, cajoled or blackmailed into parting with a few naira notes by some unsightly riff-raff of a beggar who, for all you care, is driven not by any physical disability but by sheer laziness to take to such a demeaning trade. Even if the fellow were actually disabled, does it make begging any less obnoxious? Aren’t there many blind, deaf, dumb and crippled people out there, even here in this country, who have braved the odds to make something meaningful out of their lives in spite of their obvious disability?  Of course, there are many of them, and the echo today is that there is ability in disability.

And disabled people have even refused to be called disabled, preferring physically challenged instead. Just last year, Nigeria’s Paralympics team that participated in the London Games had an impressive outing as they returned home with 13 medals, with Yakubu Adesokan, Esther Oyema, Joy Onaolapo and Folashade Oluwafemiayo setting four world records.

In 2010, 42-year-old Frenchman, Philippe Croizon, a man whose arms and legs were amputated, in a bid to inspire those who have "lost their taste for life", completed a swim across the English Channel, reaching the French coastline near Calais in 13 and one-half hours, faster than the up to 24 hours he had expected the crossing to take. Earlier in 2007, he had also made headlines for parachuting from an airplane.

Also in 2011, 25-year-old Kyle Maynard, who through a congenital birth defect became a quadruple amputee, revealed his plans to brave one of the toughest physical tests a person can face – the nearly 20,000-foot climb up Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest peak in Africa. His aim: to "send a message" to veterans who have been disabled and to disabled children around the world "that there are challenges in life, but it doesn't mean that you have to give up. You decide how you're going to draw meaning from the challenges in your life". Maynard, reports ABC News, has travelled the world as a motivational speaker, competed as a mixed martial artist and a wrestler, and owns his own cross fit gym in Suwanee, Ga.

The examples are legion.

And so, perhaps with this in mind, the Lagos State government enacted a law banning street begging, following which many beggars have been whisked away to the state rehabilitation centre at Owutu in Ikorodu area of the state and many others ‘deported’ to their ‘states of origin’. So far, over 3,000 persons have reportedly been ‘deported’, the most recent being about 70 who were dumped at Onitsha, Anambra State. Plateau State government also toed a similar path as it announced the banning of street begging in the state sometime ago.

In Kano, Aminu Ibrahim Daurawa, commander-general of the Hisbah Board, said the government is desirous of restoring sanity in Kano streets and discouraging begging in the guise of Almajiri who ordinarily should be kept in decent environment, pointing out that street begging constitutes both social and security threats. Plus there are plans by the government to send an Executive Bill to the State House of Assembly to enact a law that would ban all forms of street begging in the state.

In Edo, the state government is practically hounding the destitute off the streets, some of them with varying degrees of insanity. While many of them have been taken away to rehabilitation centres, those with elements of insanity have been taken to traditional healing homes approved by the state government.

In Jigawa, the government recently announced the ban of street begging across the entire communities of the state, saying it was embarrassing for the state and the nation in general to see youthful people begging for alms at designated points like fuel stations, food joints, etc.

True, street begging can constitute social nuisance, security threat and national embarrassment – even some of the beggars themselves admit this. Indeed, it has been claimed that the Almajiris in northern parts of the country form easy recruits for terrorists. Also, some of the women among the street beggars are said to engage in prostitution, resulting in unwanted pregnancies, and, ultimately, more child-street beggars. Tourism experts also believe that the drive to make the country a tourism haven for foreigners will not yield the desired results until beggars are off the streets in major cities.

Yet, some points merit mention here. And this is not to justify street begging in any form. One is that there is reckless injustice and inequality in the social system that produces these beggars. This society does not care. There is no form of social security to cater for the needy members of society. Rather, indigent people who are genuinely unable to help themselves are left to their own devices – to swim or sink. They decide to swim, the only way they know: begging. So, it’s not enough to talk tough. It’s not enough to enact a law that punishes both the giver and the receiver of alms. It is not enough to ‘deport’ fellow Nigerians who come from other parts of the country to seek livelihood, even if their means is begging. The situation is much more complex than that. There is ravaging poverty in the land, coupled with high rate of unemployment. In a country where able-bodied young people who are willing and ready to work can’t find something to do, what hope do the disabled have? It is perhaps time for governments at all levels to begin to consider the option of a welfare programme for the less-privileged members of society.

Two is the fact that our two major religions – Islam and Christianity (and this is assuming that African Traditional Religion is going extinct) – recommend almsgiving as a means of ingratiating oneself with God (In Christendom, it is said that charity covereth a multitude of sins). Sometimes we need these beggars – for our own good.

When Mour Ndiaye, the protagonist in Aminata Sow Fall’s The Beggars’ Strike, as Director of the Department of Public Health and Hygiene, set out through his assistant Keba Dabo to rid the Capital of beggars, the so-called dregs of society, he did not see it coming. Now there is going to be a cabinet reshuffle, and he hopes to be appointed Vice-President of the Republic. To secure his ambition, he brings home Kifi Boukoul, a powerful marabout, who recommends a sacrifice of a bull that Mour must divide into 77 portions and deliver directly to the beggars on the streets, not anywhere else. But the beggars are off the streets, ironically, at Mour’s instance, and he fails in his attempts to bring them back to the streets, just this once, so he can make his sacrifice. While he is still running helter-skelter, frustrated, the President of the Republic announces the appointment of Monsieur Toumane Sane as Vice-President.

Lesson: while there are obvious merits in ridding the streets of beggars, the word is caution. The matter, like a double-edged sword, can cut both ways. It is like the proverbial louse that clings to a man’s scrotal sac: it needs to be killed to save the man the irritation that it obviously causes, yet extra care must be taken so as not to damage the testes in the process.

Lagos-Badagry Expressway: Traders Lament Losses To Gridlock

By Chuks OLUIGBO

The traffic jam experienced on the Lagos-Badagry Expressway on a daily basis, which has worsened since the onset of the rainy season, has given traders whose businesses compel them to ply that route daily a cause for serious concern as many of them are beginning to count their losses.

Lagos-Badagry Expressway is the route to such important markets as Alaba International (easily the largest electronics market in the country), Alaba Rago, the trio of Balogun, ASPMDA and Progressive (all located within the precincts of the Lagos International Trade Fair Complex), Article Market (located opposite the Trade Fair Complex), as well as other smaller unnamed markets. Besides, it is also Nigeria’s international gateway to other countries on the West African coast – Benin Republic, Togo, Ghana, among others.  

Though the expressway is currently undergoing an expansion to 10 lanes with provisions for light rail and Bus Rapid Transit System (the section from Mile Two to Okokomaiko is being handled by China Civil Engineering Construction Company), road users complain that the speed is rather too slow and that the government is neglecting the many failed portions on that road filled with manholes. The worst portions seem to be between Abule-Oshun and Barracks (the Nigerian Army Cantonment), and between Odu Eran Market and Volks. The traffic situation on these stretches is usually killing.

As such, many traders whose businesses are situated at the Trade Fair Complex but who live beyond Volks (in such places as Iyana Eba, Igando, Okokomaiko, Ajamgbadi, etc) have been compelled to walk long distances until they get to Ojo Barracks where it is easier for them to get a bus to Trade Fair, failing which they continue their journey on foot until they hit their destination.

On the other hand, traders whose businesses are located beyond Volks but who reside in the Abule-Ado, Satellite, Festac and Mile Two areas often have to alight around the Trade Fair area and cover the distance between Trade Fair and Ojo Barracks on foot before joining a bus to their destination – or sometimes they have to walk up to Volks before they are able to connect a bus. As it is with traders, so it is with workers. In all of this, several man-hours are lost to traffic gridlock as those who do not feel strong enough to walk have to spend hours upon hours in the traffic.

For the traders, their losses are multiple. First, they have fewer hours daily to do business as they are forced by the traffic situation to get to their shops late, irrespective of how early they leave the house, and close very early as well so as to be able to find their way home before it gets dark. Second, many of their existing and prospective customers are discouraged by the traffic congestion. As such, they have continued to lose millions to the traffic nightmare.

“It is a huge wonder to every right thinking person why a road under reconstruction is left in such a catastrophic state,” says Mr Austin Odoemenam, an electronics importer at Alaba International Market. “It has become a nightmare for those of us who live outside but do business in Alaba because all parts of the road are cut in pieces.”

Recounting their losses, Odoemenam says, “Business is very slow. Goods that used to take one month to sell now take four months. Our customers have diverted to other markets not minding the high cost of goods in those places compared to our prices. Some call to ascertain the state of the road before venturing out, and once they are told nothing has improved, they divert elsewhere. So we now rely on customers who call us on phone to supply them goods, even those from outside Lagos. Returns are poor because we make better profits from customers who come to the shop to make their purchases. Transport fares have also gone up. We now pay N200 from Alakija to Alaba, a trip that previously cost N70. Even then, we spend two to three hours to get to Alaba every day. You wonder where one would get money to pay rent and all other expenses.”

For Leonard Umeokafor, a car and electronics importer at Alaba, who also lives in Festac, the road is every trader’s, nay, every commuter’s, nightmare. According to him, these days he doesn’t go to the market until late in the day, and he doesn’t drive to the market again all because of the bad shape of the road. Even then, he has to wait for hours at the bus-stop before getting a bus to Alaba because the bus drivers too are avoiding the road because of the number of hours they spend to cross the stretch between Trade Fair and Ojo Barracks and between Agric and Volks.

“Before now, that is, when the road was better,” says Umeokafor, “I would usually take my containers to Alaba to offload. But my last consignment I had to offload it at Trade Fair and later convey the goods in smaller bits to my shop at Alaba. Even though it was at a huge cost to me, it was better compared to what a friend of mine lost recently at Volks when his container fell off the truck that was conveying it to Alaba and the goods were spilt on paved portions of the road. He suffered a terrible loss as more than half of the goods in the container got damaged.”

Such is the experience of many a trader on the Lagos-Badagry Expressway. And they have collectively called out to the state government to do something quickly to ameliorate their suffering. As Odoemenam puts it, “Before now, the Lagos State government under Fashola used to maintain the road by patching up the manholes that could cause gridlock, and that helped a lot. But now what we have is almost madness. We are left in the hands of all sorts of misfortunes.”

For his part, Umeokafor suggested that while everybody awaits the completion of the 10-lane project, the state government should do well to patch up the failed portions of the road to make it passable for not only the traders but also for other road users who ply that route daily to transact their businesses. After all, he adds, “The traders pay huge rates to both the state government and the Ojo Local Government Council, plus the toll they collect for every container that passes through that route.”