The Nigerian film industry, known as Nollywood, has long been celebrated for its dynamic storytelling and vibrant cultural expression. One of the most recent trends gaining traction is the increase in the indigenous title genre. On the surface, this seems like a positive development—a celebration of Nigeria’s rich linguistic and cultural diversity. However, beneath the surface, there are concerns this trend could have unintended consequences for the industry and its global aspirations.

At first glance, the embrace of indigenous titles appears to be a move toward greater authenticity. Over 11 indigenous movies/series have been released between 2022 and 2024 across cinemas and streaming platforms. In 2022, King of Thieves recorded over 320 million naira, making it the eighth highest-grossing Nigerian movie ever. Anikulapo, by renowned filmmaker Kunle Afolayan, took the world by surprise when it ranked number one most-watched non-English film globally.

In 2023, Jagun Jagun hit 2.1 million views and became top 10 in 17 countries within 48 hours of its release. In 2023, for the first time, a biopic (Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti) won distinct awards, which included Best Screenplay and Overall Feature at AFRIFF. As well as the 2024 Africa Magic Viewers Choice Awards for Best Writing. These exploits show that Indigenous films aren’t just random releases but ones with a mark on the global scene. 

While the celebration of Indigenous languages and cultures in the film is a much-needed move toward preserving heritage, we must ask: could the current rave of Indigenous genres in Nollywood be a double-edged sword?

Earlier this year, Bolanle Austen-Peters and Ibrahim Chatta joined Kunle Afolayan on the roster of producers with film villages. This raised the conversations on whether or not these film villages would birth an in flock of solely ancient-themed movies.

So many have asked where we shot House of GA'A. This is it! BAP Productions Film Village in Epe. Over 10,000 acres of land, rolling hills, huts, and other facilities. Open for biz to film makers and excursions. @Bapproductions_ @terrakulture. pic.twitter.com/AKV6aD889c

— BOLANLE AUSTEN-PETERS (@bolanleap) August 23, 2024

Indigenous films provide an authentic lens through which local stories are told. They bring Nigerian audiences closer to their roots, reflecting the diverse languages, traditions, and histories of the country. In a globalized world where mainstream Western content often dominates, Indigenous films provide a counter-narrative—one where Nigerian identity and culture take center stage. This sense of representation can foster a deep sense of pride among local audiences.

Moreover, this wave opens Nollywood to wider African and diaspora audiences, who crave authentic African stories told from a perspective they can resonate with. International recognition of films like Anikulapo proves there’s a market for well-made, culturally rich productions. The benefits of this are numerous, from increased revenue to international collaborations. 

The Nigerian audience must realize that Western narratives are foreign cultures for us and as such shouldn’t see it as the norm of what movies should be. Our stories have a place on both the national and international stage, and if we don’t tell them, no one else will. The other side of the coin is that the current outflow isn’t in comparison to non-indigenous stories we have on the big-screen and streaming platforms. 

However, the increased focus on indigenous genres isn’t without its negative sides. It could lead to over-saturation, where filmmakers, in a bid to ride the wave of current trends, prioritize style over substance. Indigenous stories could become formulaic and repetitive, with filmmakers churning out films solely because of their commercial appeal rather than artistic merit. When a genre becomes too dominant, it can stifle creativity within the industry. Filmmakers might prioritize indigenous narratives, even when other equally important stories need to be told.

This saturation could result in the neglect of other genres that have traditionally thrived in Nollywood, such as romantic comedies, political dramas, or social thrillers. A robust film industry thrives on diversity, offering a range of perspectives and storytelling styles. If indigenous films become the sole focus, Nollywood could lose some of its creative diversity.

A major complaint the Nigerian audience has had is the constant recycling of the same faces in such stories. This makes this experience feel the same and tiring to keep repeating. For instance, Odunlade Adekola keeps getting typecasted as a king in movies such as King of Thieves, Beast of Two Worlds, Orisa and Lisabi. This instance is one of the many others that have happened and now with eyes closed the audience can easily guess the actors onboard an epic project. This creates an overfamiliarity on the part of the actor and an inability to thoroughly explore versatility.

Another concern is the commodification of culture. If commercial success primarily drives indigenous genres, creators might exploit cultural elements for profit. Filmmakers may reduce rich traditions and languages to mere aesthetic tools, stripping them of their deeper significance. If filmmakers lose sight of the cultural sensitivity required for authentic stories, Indigenous narratives could become caricatures of themselves. Elesin Oba suffered back lash on the portrayal of nudity, which many described as a soil to culture.

This is true in cases where non-native speakers or creators attempt to tell Indigenous stories without understanding the cultural context. While some films succeed in their authenticity, others may oversimplify or romanticize complex cultural practices, reducing them to mere entertainment.

Although indigenous films have gained traction locally, their global reach remains a question. Nigeria’s multi-lingual reality is often a challenge when exporting these films to non-Nigerian, non-African audiences. The language barrier could limit the international appeal of these films, despite subtitles being an option. Many global audiences are still more likely to gravitate toward English-speaking content. Which raises the question of whether Nollywood’s increased focus on indigenous films could slow down its global ambitions.

The risk that the international perception of Nollywood could become pigeonholed, with people assuming that it only offer traditional stories. Nollywood is more than that—it’s a growing industry with diverse narratives ranging from urban tales to modern-day dramas. The fixation on indigenous stories, while important, must not come at the cost of showcasing other facets of contemporary Nigeria.