Nollywood is one of the largest film industries in the world. It dominates local cinemas, thrives on streaming platforms like Netflix, and exports its stars globally. Yet at the Oscars every year, it still remains invisible. Why is this film industry still missing from the world’s most prestigious film awards despite its acclaimed success?

The 2026 Oscars were no exception; Nigeria failed to make it to the Academy Awards. While it’s no news that the Nigerian film industry has seen immense growth, the confirmation from the Nigerian Official Selection Committee (NOSC) in 2025 that Nigeria would not be submitting any film for consideration at the 2026 Academy Awards raised questions about what exactly is wrong with the industry.

According to the committee, six films were submitted for consideration. Yet they were disqualified by the committee based on “deficit in creative and technical intentionality.” But this isn’t the first time this wave of disappointment has happened. Nigeria’s relationship with the Oscars has been anything but complicated.

In 2019, Genevieve Nnaji’s debut directorial, Lionheart, emerged as Nigeria’s first-ever submission. But it was eventually disqualified within weeks as it failed to meet the Academy’s requirement of 50% non-English dialogue for submitted films.

In 2020, Desmond Ovbiagele’s Hausa drama, The Milkmaid, about insurgency and gendered violence in Northern Nigeria, was submitted. The film passed the eligibility stage yet failed to make the final shortlist. In 2021 and 2022, Nigeria’s attempt to join the conversation was met with a loud silence.

In 2023, C.J. Obasi’s critically acclaimed Mami Wata failed to make the Academy’s shortlist despite its success, even at the Sundance Festival, where it won the cinematography award. In 2024, the pattern repeated itself. Prince Daniel Aboki’s Mai Martaba was submitted but did not make the nominations list. And by 2025, the pattern had been cemented: a disqualification, a short-lived run, or no entry at all.

Paradoxically, the Nigerian film industry has seen a meteoric rise over the last seven years. From high-budget productions on streaming platforms like Netflix and Prime Video, culturally authentic and quality stories, to commercial success on local YouTube films, and groundbreaking box-office numbers within and outside West Africa.

After his son is framed for kidnapping, a bereaved deacon takes justice into his own hands and fights a corrupt police gang to absolve him. The Black Book is now streaming. pic.twitter.com/AIip9f8GeU

— netflix⁷ (@netflix) September 28, 2023

In 2023, Editi Effiong’s The Black Book achieved historical success, hitting the no. 3 spots on Netflix’s global chart while ranking in the top 10 in more than 69 countries worldwide. In March 2026, Funke Akindele’s Behind the Scenes broke the record to hit the billion mark to become the highest-grossing Nigerian film in West African cinemas. Now more than ever, Nigerian filmmakers are appearing in international film festivals. If anything has been established, Nollywood is thriving locally and cementing its place in global cinema.

Yet, Nigeria’s absence at the recent Oscars is mind-puzzling, considering Nollywood’s ascent. The conversation opens up the nuances that surround the film industry.

Although an issue like the language disqualification on Lionheart can most definitely feel like a slap since a country like Nigeria is driven by English as its official language. Proving that Nollywood was being asked to play by rules written without it in mind. But this is just one symptom among the diagnosis. The various forms of rejections altogether have raised bigger concerns: Why Nollywood is not built with the Oscars in mind.

The Reality of Nollywood 

It is tempting to brand these recurring absences at the Oscars as a failure of Nollywood despite its growth. Most times, the conversation about quality surfaces as the most common explanation for Nollywood’s absence. But quality is often a convenient oversimplification. The more honest answer is structure. The industry isn’t lacking the talent, stories, stars, or the cultural weight to compete. It is because the industry itself is not structurally designed for that kind of recognition.

The growth is happening outside the ecosystem that typically produces Oscar-winning films. And that distinction matters. Because the Oscars are not just about good films. They are about films that emerge from a specific pipeline—one that Nollywood, by design, does not fully operate within.

Production Model

To address this, we need to look beyond the screen and into the system. From the onset, Nollywood’s funding model has been largely driven by private investment, brand partnerships, and the need for relatively quick returns. This creates a production culture that prioritises speed, volume and commercial returns.

This model is what has sustained one of the most productive film industries in the world. However, it also leaves little room for the slow, iterative processes that often define Oscar-bound films. From festival-development cycles, extensive post-production, and financial backing that allows for creative risk without immediate commercial pressure. You cannot mass-produce films and simultaneously optimise for a system that rewards meticulous, time-intensive filmmaking.

Language Barrier: The Lionheart Case Study

The Academy requires that more than half of a submitted film’s dialogue be in a language other than English. So when Genevieve Nnaji’s Lionheart was disqualified from Oscar consideration due to language rules, it posed a weary concern. Why are Anglophone countries like Nigeria or Ghana subjected to a colonial hangover?

Nollywood tells its stories the way Nigerians speak. English blends with Igbo, Yoruba, or Pidgin. It reflects lived reality. But the Oscars choose to operate within frameworks shaped by different cinematic histories and expectations. How, then, do countries where English is the lingua franca navigate this limiting rule?

Distribution as a Gatekeeper 

One of Nollywood’s successes can be attributed to its distribution models. Despite the lingering piracy, it has increasingly embraced a model that mostly thrives on direct-to-audience distribution: cinemas, streaming platforms, and now YouTube.

But for the Oscars, this pipeline takes a different route. Films are usually introduced through festivals like the Cannes Film Festival and the Toronto International Film Festival, opening doors for critical acclaim, credibility, and strategic positioning before awards season. It’s one of the reasons why the UK-Nigerian film My Father’s Shadow secured the BAFTA Award and an Oscar nomination after premiering at the Cannes 2025.

Beyond the promotional opportunities festivals offer, they provide a structural pathway for films to be validated within the global industry. Whereas Nollywood, for the most part, does not operate with this pathway.

Global Standards vs Local Realities

At its core, this is a tension between two valid but different priorities. Nollywood thrives on cultural authenticity, as its films are rooted in familiar experiences, fast-moving narratives, and a deep understanding of its primary audience.

The Oscars, by contrast, reward a specific kind of filmmaking—one shaped by festival culture, technical precision, and a more globally standardised storytelling rhythm. These are not opposing values, but they are not the same. And trying to force one into the mould of the other raises a difficult question.

Should Nollywood Even Change?

Serving the domestic audience shouldn’t be a deterrent, as it sustains the internal economy and strengthens cultural identity. But cultural currency abroad also matters. This results from this recognition: prestige, international investment, distributors, and cementing Nollywood’s presence in front of global eyes cannot be undermined.

But for Nollywood to consistently compete at the Oscars could strain its DNA. For an industry that thrives on volume and speed, this would mean slower production timelines, larger, more patient funding systems, a stronger presence at international festivals, and films designed not just for institutional recognition. But in reshaping itself for this global validation, Nollywood risks losing accessibility and a direct relationship with the audience that funds its growth.

So Nollywood doesn’t lack the stories or the talent to win an Oscar. But the Oscars reward a system, one built on funding structures, festival pipelines, and production timelines that Nollywood was never designed for.

The real question is not whether Nollywood can win an Oscar. It is whether it wants to become the kind of industry that needs one.