NigeriaPlus » Entertainment

AUDIO: Flavour N’Abania Pays Tribute to McLoph

NigeriaPlus — Sat, 29 Oct 2011 13:28:55 +0000

On the 14th of September, 2011, highlife artiste and one of Nigeria’s indigenous rappers, Obiajulu Nwaozor aka MC Loph died in a fatal car crash. He was reported to have died along the Benin/Ore road.

In this newly released audio track titled “Iwe” (meaning Anger), his close friend and confidant Flavour N’Abania pays a moving tribute to the fallen artiste. Prior to his untimely death, MC Loph, famed for his hit single “Osondi Owendi” which also featured Flavour N’Abania, had warmed his way into the hearts of music fans across the country.

Crimson Dynamics: Taking The Blood Issue Seriously

Paul Adepoju — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 03:16:02 +0000

By Dada Joseph

The issues relating to blood transfusion are so vast but it is disturbing that medical experts are not doing enough to get Nigerians informed of such delicate issues, despite the fact that the dreaded HIV/AIDs virus could be transmitted by blood transfusion.

The truth is that much still needs to be done to enlighten Nigerians better on blood transfusion, as well as the challenges facing it in the country. That is why Paul Adepoju’s book, Crimson Dynamics is coming at an appropriate time. It will join other works that had dwelt on the issue of blood transfusion, with the aim of presenting a clearer picture to humanity.

The 14-chapter book starts with the definition of blood, its composition, types, regulation of blood cells and volumes, before defining flood transfusion. The first chapter then delves into the history of blood transfusion, as well as the ideal blood transfusion system. In the second chapter, the book highlights blood transfusion in Nigeria, while explaining that in times past, the National Agency for the Control of HIV/AIDS (NACA) detected that more than 80 per cent of blood units collected, processed and transfused in Nigerian hospitals were not properly screened, thus resulting in more than 15 per cent of HIV/AIDS infection rate at that time. With that sorted out, hospitals and medical laboratories took extra precaution in screening donated blood, and those to be transfused to patients. The result of this is a safer blood transfusion system in the country.

However, the system is not without its challenges, which the author lists in chapter three. One of such challenges is voluntary blood donation, which is very unpopular among Nigerians. The author says, “The current situation is so pathetic such that ordinarily, Nigerians don’t even think of blood donation. One of the reasons responsible for this is the low level of awareness and publicity on why it is necessary and advisable to donate.” (Pg.21). There are also other problems like donors’ involvement, recruitment and retention; while chapter four and five explains another challenge which arise as a result of government and private organizations’ involvement.

In chapter seven, the author discusses various religions’ view of blood. Here, the Islamic, Christian, Judaism, as well as the African traditional religion’s take on blood transfusion are discussed. It then specifically explains why Jehovah Witnesses refuse blood transfusion, even in a life-or-death situation.

After listing some of the hurdles facing blood transfusion, Adepoju further gives the solutions towards overcoming such challenges and that is, through awareness and encouraging peoples’ involvement. This can be found in chapter 10 and 11. The medical scientist then returned to the refusal of Jehovah Witnesses to accept blood transfusion, by listing ways towards resolving the debacle.

In the final chapter, Adepoju highlights the Blood Drive Initiative (BDI), which has the aim of providing safe and sustainable blood supply through the recruitment and retaining of healthy, voluntary, non-remunerated donors (VNRDs) in accordance with the World Health Organisation (WHO’s) guidelines on blood donation.

The author, Adepoju, a medical scientist at the University College Hospital (UCH), Ibadan, writes from a professional point of view as it relates to blood transfusion in the country. Crimson Dynamics is written in an easy to understand language, and this makes it possible for someone who does not even have a science background to be well-informed on the issue.

While it is important for experts in the medical field to get a copy of the book, it is also necessary for all categories of people to read Crimson Dynamics, so as to have a better understanding of how the blood transfusion system works.

Book Review: When Nwagwu’s Eyes Dance: by Nwachukwu Egbunike

Nwachukwu Egbunike — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 18:29:41 +0000

Blasting rhythms fill my veins

my face my limbs encounter

in the living waters

of that Tremendous Lover

who makes my eyes dance.

[Mark Nwagwu (2010) My Eyes Dance. Ibadan: BookBuilders, p 339]

My Eyes Dance! Not exactly, for they actually spin and wobble in the divine and mundane interlocking of Mark Nwagwu’s latest novel. Chioma Ijeoma in the real essence of her name is guided by her good chi (personal god). This great granddaughter of Akadike of Okosisi is propelled by Love in being and doing Opus Dei (Work of God).

Although My Eyes Dance is independently original, nonetheless this sequel to Forever Chimes (2007) by the same author captivates as well as enthrals. Using the mythical expression of the Igbo civilisation, Nwagwu weaves a story that breaks the bounds of space by crossing the Atlantic. Chioma the protagonist is the ideal fictitious character. She is an artist, a confidant of her great grandfather and the one who inherits the staff of her lineage – which was given the name Uzo.

Yet this same Chioma falls into the amazing web of teaching African Spirit in Georgetown University, US. In a play of events, this ‘Investigator without Bounds’ who had only wished to complete her thesis on The African Spirit: Unlimited in Time and Space, finds herself encumbered in developing a course from nothing. Totally petrified, Chioma warmed up for her first class, and unfortunately did not make a mess of it. Rather, it catalysed a chain of events that makes the reader gasping for breath. Not only did she win the respect of her students, but also the admiration of the dean of faculty and president of her university. In time, her students wanted a trip to Okosisi in order to drink from the fount of Chioma’s chi which perennially featured in her lectures.

The details of the trip are better read than explain. Nonetheless, Chioma does not stop at being just another young woman, full of ideas and expounding gust. She suddenly calls off her engagement to Bia and dedicates herself to God as a numerary of Opus Dei (an institution of the Catholic Church). What makes her self-giving rather novel is that it does not fit the mould of the original ‘religious’ attire – for she’s no nun – yet has a full time job and still lives celibacy.

But in simple language, Nwagwu crafts out Chioma’s odyssey of love. She gets involved in the life of her friends. Her ex-boyfriend (Bia) puts her student (Nkemdi) in the family way. Chioma gets them to marry and by so doing saves Nkemdi from the disgrace of being kicked out of the university. Her Opus Dei continues and thrives in the ordinary which is elevated to the supernatural. Ms Ijeoma abstracts the dense philosophical concept of Eros and teases it out. Or else, how can one explain the convoluting reconciliation of Chioma’s friend Suputa with her run-away husband, Mike. In a rare expression of the cruelty of infidelity, Mike has to re-establish a place in the memory of his wife, who can no longer remember him.

What triggers the originality of My Eyes Dance is the beauty of African traditions. Using the Igbo of Okosisi, Chioma tells her own story. And by doing so, wins disciples who in turn get entangled in the love of the continent. Ms Ijeoma shows that there can be no contradiction in love for ones past and infusion into the present. For man is not just an accident of history but the portal of memory. Chioma’s work shows that in a globalised 21st century, the communion of saints can be better appreciated with communion with the ancestors.

This does not mean that My Eyes Dance is flawless. Perhaps the author could have made most of the explanations – religious and philosophical – brief. One often gets the impression of reading an academic journal and not a novel. Nonetheless, for anyone interested in savouring traditional philosophical thoughts of the Igbo’s, then this novel will certainly satisfy that craving. In addition, to catch a ‘true’ glimpse of what Opus Dei really is, then the amazing story of Chioma is worth the while. Though fiction, yet it is grounded in the truth. My eyes not only dance, but my spirit rises to the filament, for Nwagwu’s My Eyes Dance is simply sublime.

Book Review: Muslim and Christian Women’s Dialogue in Northern Nigeria: by Nwachukwu Egbunike

NigeriaPlus — Mon, 25 Oct 2010 02:36:44 +0000

“Women invoke often the help and protection of God, finding in God their greatest if not only recourse and succour. It is their need for divine assistance and their belief in God’s assistance that unites them. They are together in their faith, despite the different expressions that faith is given in their religious traditions.” – Kathleen McGarvey in Muslim and Christian Women in Dialogue: The Case of Northern Nigeria (2009, Oxford: Peter Lang, p 249).

Nigeria is perceived by many as a religious fault line. The perennial conflicts along religious affiliations – predominantly between Christians and Muslims – have made this assumption almost impossible to debunk. At the same time, gender awareness has never been so present in our national consciousness. Women not only want to be seen but also to be heard. However, there seems be a dearth of intellectual synthesis of these two aspects – religion and gender. Or so I thought, until I read Kathleen McGarvey’s book, Muslim and Christian Women in Dialogue: The Case of Northern Nigeria.

McGarvey’s transformed her two-year doctoral research into a lucid narration of the place and role of women in Northern Nigeria. She strides across both religious barricades – Islam and Christianity – in order to present a clear picture of the dialogue among women in the region. While we are used to discussions along religious lines, that are mainly initiated and executed by men, the author dares to present her-story of women.

Muslim and Christian Women in Dialogue: The Case of Northern Nigeria, tackles the often over flogged impression in certain atheistic discussions that religion is to be blamed for the violence between people. While not entirely absolving religion; McGarvey asserts that “poverty in the North is one of the main fuel to the conflict” (page 267). Her stand reverberates with a similar study by an American scholar Phillip Ositien: “widespread illiteracy, unemployment, a growing population of rootles and jobless young men, availability of arms, coupled with venal, petty-minded and short-sighted politicians.” As such, religion has been hijacked and used as a tool of continual manipulation.

The author also peered into the claim that religion and culture is the greatest obstacle to the social and human development of women. Her response is instructive: “Women of all faiths enter into feminist religious discourse globally as well as in Northern Nigeria… Motivated and rooted in their faith, but aware that their religion has been used to justify the oppression and exclusion of women, they seek to develop its unifying and liberating potential, convinced of its relevance for human well-being, justice and transformed human relations.” She explained further that since there is a wide diversity – social, political, cultural and religious – hue from which many women view reality, there cannot be a common solution to the problem. “Not all women share one understanding of human dignity…and not all seek to overcome oppression or establish justice by the same criteria.” In order words, feminist religious discourse has to be entrenched to study and address each peculiar socio-cultural context.

The conceptual abstraction of ‘feminism’ in line with the distinction between the global and the local Nigerian context is illuminating. McGarvey agrees that the term ‘feminist’ evokes rancid reactions. As such most Nigerian women will not “label their struggles to promote the dignity of women as feminist.” She proposed a definition of the Nigerian brand of ‘feminism’ as: “women’s awareness of unjust gender inequalities experienced in their society, and their struggles to promote women’s rights, interest and issues within their diverse social, cultural, religious and class contexts.”

The author thus redefined ‘feminism’ in consonance with the natural dignity of the human person. McGarvey echoes the position of Eugenia Abu, who scandalised a crowd of Western feminists with these words: “I know my grandmother’s needs are not theories but a borehole. When Mrs Ransome Kuti mobilised women in the sixties, her theories were neither Marxism nor Feminism, they were Nigerian” (In the Blink of An Eye, 2007, p 177).

Muslim and Christian Women in Dialogue: The Case of Northern Nigeria is structured along three main themes: Muslim and Christian feminist discourse of a global scale; discussion of the research context – Northern Nigeria; and area of interreligious dialogue. The book categories the inter-religious dialogue in Northern Nigeria into four subsections, starting with the dialogue of life. The seed of hatred was sown by the colonial creation of Sabon Gari in the most Northern cities. Although individual friendship bloomed, however due to the volatility of religion, discussions along those lines were usually skipped.

However for women, it was difficult to separate their life into segments, as such being women they story-tell amongst each other – even beyond religious boundaries. This ‘spiritual dialogue’ between women of both faiths in Northern Nigeria, according the author is easily recognisable (see quote above).

It will be hypocritical to impart accolades on Muslim and Christian Women in Dialogue: The Case of Northern Nigeria. The intellectual rigour encapsulated in this book is its strength, beauty and superlative recommendation. Being rather cerebral, it will obviously exclude some from savouring and appreciating it. McGarvey’s book is a meticulous and factual scrutiny of the inter-religious story-telling in Northern Nigeria. The author deserves praise for giving a ‘voice and face’ to those who usually bear the brunt of exclusion.

Kathleen McGarvey’s book, Muslim and Christian Women in Dialogue; The Case of Northern Nigeria, is available on Amazon

Hearty Cheers for Nollywood

NigeriaPlus — Tue, 21 Sep 2010 11:46:29 +0000

Inspired by Bollywood musicals and Brazilian soap operas, the Nigerian film industry is now the second largest in the world

Die-hard fans have known for some time that the Nigerian film industry is truly unique, but even they may be surprised to discover just how big – and lucrative – it has become.

A new festival, Nollywood Now, takes place in London from 6-12 October and is the first major event to celebrate the second largest film industry in the world. Its chief aim is to draw wider attention to the success and popularity the films enjoy across Europe, and particularly the UK.

Nollywood makes about 2,400 films per year, putting it ahead of the US, but behind India, according to a Unesco report last year. Nigerian film-makers tend to operate in a fast and furious manner; shoots rarely last longer than two weeks, cheap digital equipment is almost always used and the average budget is about $15,000 (£9,664). The finished products often bypass cinemas altogether and are instead sold directly to the “man on the street” for about $1.50 (£1). Most films shift between 25,000 and 50,000 copies globally – although a blockbuster can easily sell up to 200,000.

So, what exactly is it about the films that resonates so much with their audience? For all of their populist appeal, Nigerian films are very rooted in local concerns, according to Nollywood Now’s creative director, Phoenix Fry: “Many of the films have looked at how traditional beliefs co-exist with Islam and Christianity, Nigeria’s main religions,” he says. “There are some superb sequences using quite simple video effects to transform aunties into demons, or show evil animal spirits being driven out from the possessed.”

This view is shared by Nigerian director and producer, Ade Adepegba, whose feature film Water Has No Enemy, explores corruption in his native country: “Nigerians are the largest group of Africans living in the UK, and the majority of them live in London,” he says. “Nigerian films still hold their strongest appeal to first generation immigrants who feel a deep attachment to their homeland. So, at the moment nostalgia is the main reason for the appeal of Nollywood.”

Ultimately, it’s the way the films are crafted, rather than their juicy content that gives them universal appeal, says Fry. “The storytelling is so good. Nigerian filmmakers really know how to entertain their audiences. They’ve studied the populist genres from other countries – Bollywood musicals, low-budget horror and Brazilian soap operas, for example – and reworked these to appeal to anyone with a love of drama.”

The process is tried and tested, and the main reason Nollywood is currently in such rude health, but how long can it stay that way? It’s hard to see how an industry that prides itself on producing so much in so little time won’t start to lose its momentum in the coming years. Diversifying is probably its best hope of lasting success, but loyal and long-standing fans may see that as a betrayal of its origins.

Adepegba believes that widening its scope will serve Nollywood well in the long term: “The industry needs to start making films with deeper social and artistic values – the path to even greater success,” he says.

In October, Nigeria celebrates 50 years of independence, and thanks in no small part to Nollywood, its creative industries are under the global spotlight like never before. Film-makers need to make the most of these new opportunities to showcase the country by accurately portraying its flaws as well as its triumphs. This may mean tackling less savoury subjects regarding everyday life in the country, such as crime, corruption and abject poverty. It will not please everyone, but to ensure the legacy it deserves, Nollywood audiences should demand no less.

Tola Onanuga. Via UK Guardian

Guarding a Legacy From Nigeria to Broadway

NigeriaPlus — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 17:42:40 +0000

Femi Kuti honors his father, Fela Kuti, but not in all of his footsteps.

Femi Kuti, the Nigerian singer and saxophonist, admits to being delighted that “Fela!,” the Broadway musical about his father, Fela Kuti, is a hit, attracting new fans to Afrobeat, the politically charged musical genre that Fela created and Femi plays. Even so, he is not planning to see the Tony-winning show during a trip to New York for a performance Monday night in Lincoln Center’s Midsummer Night Swing series.

“I’m protesting for it to come to Lagos, so if I see it now, I will lose that fight,” he said before a performance with Positive Force, the 13-piece orchestra he leads, here Saturday night. “It’s good that it’s on Broadway, the publicity is great, everyone is talking about it. But if there is truly respect for the music and the message, it has to come to Africa, back to Lagos and the Shrine that we, his family, have built for him. That is important spiritually and culturally.”

As Fela’s oldest son, Mr. Kuti, 48, is in an unusual, demanding and potentially contradictory position. Since his father’s death, from complications of AIDS in 1997, the younger Kuti has pursued two careers: his own musicianship and that of serving as the main guardian of Fela Kuti’s legacy and of Afrobeat, the inviting and highly danceable mixture of West African rhythms with jazz, soul, funk and psychedelic rock influences.

“The baton is definitely in his hands,” said Ahmir Thompson, drummer for the Roots, better known as Questlove, who is a longtime fan of the Kuti family’s music. “But I also understand the plight of a son trying to make his own voice heard in the world.”

Being his father’s son may be a draw abroad, attracting curious listeners, but at home in Nigeria, it comes with considerable baggage. In 1977, enraged at Fela’s criticisms of corruption and military rule in songs and speeches, the Nigerian authorities burned down the Shrine, the Lagos nightclub and compound where Fela played and lived with his extended family; an imaginary version of the club serves as the setting of the musical.

With great effort, Fela’s survivors have built a New Africa Shrine in a different area of Lagos. But Mr. Kuti complains that the government, now nominally in civilian hands under President Goodluck Jonathan, looks for excuses to shut the club down, harasses its patrons and bans some of his music from the radio. That, in large part, is why he welcomes the increased visibility that “Fela!” has brought him.

“This democratic era is a farce,” he said, adding that his next CD, to be called “Africa for Africa” and due out later this year, will address this and related topics. “It’s the same corrupt leaders, the same corrupt godfathers. The military are taking off their uniforms and are pretending to be politicians. The government is clowns as far as I am concerned.”

But with time and experience, Mr. Kuti has also learned to be less confrontational than his father, who was beaten and arrested more than once. As Mr. Kuti once explained it, while his father would simply declare that “the government is a thief,” his own style is to try to be diplomatic, to say that he would prefer that the government stop stealing money.

“Fela was a complicated character, and Femi has tried to be very savvy about which aspects of the Fela legacy he embraces and which he distances himself from,” said Michael Veal, author of “Fela: The Life and Times of an African Music Icon” and leader of Michael Veal and Aqua Ife, a New York Afrobeat band. “He’s embraced the whole political heritage of Afrobeat.” But when it comes to marijuana and promiscuity, “he’s not advocating smoking, he doesn’t have a thousand women around him, and his band and his business are not chaotic. So I think he has dealt with it gracefully.”

Musically Mr. Kuti has also refined the Afrobeat sound. His younger brother Seun, also a saxophonist and singer, performs with the remnants of their father’s orchestra, Egypt ’80, and specializes in cover versions of Fela’s songs. But Femi Kuti writes almost all of his own material and has broadened the range of influences on Afrobeat.

“It’s a different rhythmic language and a different harmonic language too,” said Aaron Johnson, the musical director of “Fela!” and a member of the Afrobeat group Antibalas, the musical’s house band. “He’s retained the general framework while incorporating instrumental and rhythmic elements from the last 10 years of popular music, like having that four-on-the-floor house dance beat pushed to the front, for instance, when Fela had so many polyrhythms going on.”

Purists may not like those changes, which also include songs much shorter than the half-hour pieces that Fela typically favored, and have sometimes complained about them. But as Mr. Kuti noted, if he stuck to the classic Afrobeat sound, he would run the risk of being accused of imitating or copying his father.

Though he tours regularly, Mr. Kuti had a seven-year gap between studio CDs of new material, broken only in 2008 with the release of “Day by Day” (Mercer Street/Downtown). He spent much of that interval, he said, trying to expand his musicianship by studying trumpet and piano, both of which he now plays in his live shows with an orchestra, which includes a five-man horn section and three female dancers and backup singers.

“Femi has had the good sense not to try to reproduce his father’s music, and instead created his own interpretation of Afrobeat,” said Carlos Moore, author of the authorized biography “Fela: This Bitch of a Life” and a Cuban-born expert on tropical music. “He was determined to do that even before the death of his father, and has come up with a modern sound in tune with 21st-century tastes that can be played for audiences in both Africa and the West.”

And as Mr. Thompson was quick to point out, in person Mr. Kuti can be nearly as commanding a presence as his father. Mr. Thompson recalled their initial encounters, at recording sessions in 2000 in which he, other hip-hop, soul and funk stars collaborated with Mr. Kuti on a new version of “Water No Get Enemy,” one of Fela’s most anthemic songs, for a compilation CD for the Red Hot Organization, the coalition against AIDS.

“When Femi came to the studio to meet us, it was like a scene straight out of ‘Coming to America,’ ” the 1988 movie in which Eddie Murphy plays the prince of an imaginary African country, Mr. Thompson said. “He walked in like the king of Zamunda, with his entourage and all these royal-looking women, and me and Common and D’Angelo just looked at each other. But what was beautiful was that although he has his father’s charisma and authoritative stance, he is also very humble.”

via NYT

Nollywood Second only to Bollywood in Film Industry Scale (3)

NigeriaPlus — Sun, 02 May 2010 20:06:05 +0000

Nollyworrd plots hinge on family, love and honor

Nollywood’s success began in 1992, with the film “Living in Bondage.” At the time, after years of recurring military coups, someone finally had the courage to address the subjects that related to ordinary people. The film is about a man who falls under the influence of a religious cult, and about money and black magic. At the same time, the film also suggests that the new wealth in Nigeria is the result of demonic practices — and the source of inequality in the country and the suffering of too many people. “Living in Bondage” was liberating for people in Nigeria, because it meant that suddenly they had a voice. Hardly anyone in Nigeria today isn’t familiar with the film.

Instead of showing their film in expensive cinemas, the producers distributed it as a so-called home video, which gave them access to a completely new market. Suddenly families could hold film evenings, with entire neighborhoods gathering around a single television set as if it were a campfire.

At its height, shortly after the end of the military dictatorship in 1999, Nollywood was flooding the African market with up to 2,000 films a year, and Surulere, the nightlife district in Lagos, became its creative center.

The road to Surulere leads down a four-lane highway exit, from which traffic is dispersed into smaller streets. A cacophony of car hors, shouting and failing engines fills the air. Surulere is a loud, Dionysian place, where actors, costume designers and screenwriters live, work and party. It’s a place where actors are cast, a place to see and be seen — and a street known as Winnies is something of a stage for it all.

Winnies was originally a simple guesthouse, a hangout for actors and filmmakers in the early days of Nollywood. Now the place is so popular that the entire street is called Winnies. Casting notices are pinned to the walls, specifying what the directors are looking for: “If you are fat, tall and speak various Nigerian languages fluently, call us. We are looking for a film production.” Or: “Huge simultaneous casting call for 9 films.”

View a photo-gallery of Nollywood pictures

The street is narrow and the air smells of a mixture of exhaust fumes and the strawberry perfume of young actresses standing on the sidewalk, waiting to be discovered — like young Victoria. Every morning, the young actors who hope to become famous stand in front of Winnies, like day laborers, waiting to be taken to the sets on the location buses of film producers like Mr. Divine.

He is standing in the guarded parking lot of a hotel, as a minibus reels toward him, swerving to avoid the potholes. The bus is rusty, dented and covered with colorful film posters. Divine steps to the side. “The show goes on,” he says. “We don’t have any time.”

The bus is a Mercedes, but for Divine it’s much more than that. “What’s inside that bus is Nollywood,” he says, “my entire film, everything inside that thing.” The thing slows down and comes to a stop next to him, and then his film squeezes itself out through a sliding door: 15 young actors and assistants, loaded onto the bus at Winnies and booked for two weeks. It also contains an HD camera, a cameraman, a director, two plastic bowls filled with cassava porridge and spicy chicken, three lights, a microphone, an Adidas bag full of costumes, a few bottles of Guinness and the generator. And three stars. “It all comes to $38,000,” says Mr. Divine, pointing out that that’s the trick, “making films with next to nothing.”

Mr. Divine, the head of Divine Touch Productions Limited, has a real name: Emeka Ejofor. Stage names are good for business. The film he is currently shooting will be called “Strippers.” It’s about three young women and a suitcase full of money. The actresses are wearing very high heels and very little clothing, their fingernails are as long as colorful as candy canes, and they seem drunk — and maybe they are drunk.

‘Nollywood in Crisis’

The film will look like all Nollywood films. Seen through the eyes of Nigerians, it will be glamorous, exciting and well-acted. Seen through the eyes of the West, it’ll be trashy but charming, and somehow unintentionally funny. The film will be a big seller, because there will be many stars on the cover. It will remain unknown beyond Africa’s borders.

Dickson Iroegbu, the filmmaker, also has his office in Surulere. It is the day after his car was rigged to crash, and his two mobile phones are ringing every five minutes. The callers want to know what he was thinking, crashing the filmmakers’ event the day before. Iroegbu, normally a quiet, polite man, becomes agitated and raises his voice. “Nollywood is in a crisis,” he shouts into his phone. “It can’t go on like this.”

He takes a sip from a glass of red wine, even though it’s only noon. A gold-framed portrait of Martin Luther King hangs on the wall above his desk, next to a picture of US President Barack Obama. The prizes he has already won with his films are displayed on a cabinet. Iroegbu has been in the business for a long time. He was a teenager when he wrote his first screenplay.

Next to the oil industry, Nollywood is the second-largest employer in Nigeria. It has its own stars and its own red carpets, even its own version of the Oscars: the African Movie Academy Awards. Hundreds of thousands of the home videos it produces are displayed on dealers’ shelves, in the form of VCDs and DVDs, and the films are also broadcast on television channels like Africa Magic. Hollywood films play almost no role at all in this country.

Iroegbu punches his fist into his left hand, and then he says that he has made a decision: “I won’t make another film until I’ve raised $2 million.” He says that he has a fantastic script, a project called “Child Soldier,” which twins a story about Africa with the story of a child soldier. Iroegbu dreams the dream of unexpected success, like the success enjoyed by the science fiction film “District 9,” a low budget project from South Africa, which was filmed in only two months, became a box-office hit in the United States and was even nominated for four Oscars this year.

Iroegbu says that he knows that he has made enemies with his idea. He also knows that they will still try to sabotage his car and ambush him at night. “It makes me afraid,” he says, but he adds that it’s worth it, because he hopes to win an Oscar for Nollywood with his film.

“If all goes well,” he says, “my film will be a ‘Slumdog Millionaire’.”

Nollywood Second only to Bollywood in Film Industry Scale (2)

NigeriaPlus — Sun, 02 May 2010 17:03:07 +0000

Famutsa Film Productions shopkeeper Victor Edwin sells films in Lagos. At least 900 films will be produced in Nigeria this year, twice as many as in Hollywood.

Martin Onyemaobi is one of the kings of this world. His office in Alaba isn’t a real office, but more of a tiny storage room, filled with unpackaged DVDs, stacked in packs of 100, held together with rubber bands. Onyemaobi explains how the business works and reaches for his calculator. “This is where the life of a Nigerian film begins,” he says, “here, with this calculator.”

The average Nollywood film costs $20,000 to make. The average Hollywood production costs about $100 million. “I read a script,” says Onyemaobi, “and if I like it, I start calculating.” He is wearing silvery trousers and a silvery shirt, and a golden crown adorns his business card. Onyemaobi has already financed 50 films, which he has then marketed from his small shop.

Government film subsidies are almost nonexistent in Nigeria, and if there are any subsidies, most people assume that the money never leaves the pockets of those at the top echelons of industry unions. At first, Onyemaobi borrowed money from banks and private business people, but now, he says, he has enough capital of his own. He sells up to 300,000 DVDs or videos of a single film, at 250 Naira (€1.20) apiece. “I fork out money, hire a producer and off we go,” he says. His current hit, “Royal War,” set among the Yoruba people, is about a girl who is supposed to be married to the Yoruba king. “50,000 copies sold in the first six months,” says Onyemaobi.

Marketers like Onyemaobi produce up to 20 films a year, on paltry budgets upwards of €6,000. The films are shot with a single camera, usually in about a week’s time, complete with ketchup blood, ghost tricks and low-quality computer animation. Onyemaobi leans back in his chair. The air in the room is oppressive, it smells of mud and sewage and the plaster is peeling from the walls. But none of this seems to trouble Onyemaobi, who folds his hands over his stomach and says: “I’m currently making five movies at the same time.”

View a photo-gallery of Nollywood Pictures

Africa is a gigantic market, with 150 million people living in Nigeria alone. Nigerian films are exported to other African countries, like Ghana, Sierra Leone and South Africa, but also to the United States and England, and to Germany, where they are sold in African shops — in other words, to places where they can capitalize on the nostalgia of a large African Diaspora.

A typical Nollywood film takes place in a living room. Living rooms are good. Anyone who has a living room in this country has achieved a certain level of success. When Nigerians think of prosperity, they think of glass tables, flat-screen TVs, colorful sectionals and rooms like the one in which the film “Close Shave” is currently being shot.

It’s late in the afternoon and the actresses are exhausted. They seem distracted and are constantly having to repeat their scenes. Perhaps it’s because they have been working for seven hours without interruption, with no time to eat or drink, or even to sit down.

Or perhaps it’s because someone runs across the set every five minutes, a mobile phone rings or the generator breaks down. Or because the boy who is supposed to hold the microphone falls asleep and the crew gets drunk on Guinness and whisky during the shoot.

The story is about three aspiring female musicians who fall into the clutches of a female pimp. Power, the hope of prosperity, prostitution: These are popular subjects in Nigeria, subjects that stir the nation.

Via Spiegel

Nollywood Second only to Bollywood in Film Industry Scale (1)

NigeriaPlus — Sun, 02 May 2010 12:58:03 +0000

A Nollywood superstar actress Stephanie Okereke (center) struts down the red carpet

Two-thirds of its population lives on less than a dollar a day, and yet Nigeria has the world’s second-largest film industry. It’s called Nollywood, and it provides Africa, and beyond, with a steady stream of action flicks and love stories.

For Dickson Iroegbu, the day he was almost killed by Nollywood began with an important decision. He could either say nothing and continue to look on as they made their trash films and shoveled money at each other, or he could put on a pinstriped suit and tell these Mafiosi that he wasn’t going to play their game anymore.

It was a Wednesday morning, and the sun was barely shining through the smog-covered skies over Lagos. The most important men in Nollywood, the filmmakers, were meeting near the National Theater to elect their president, when Iroegbu, 32, a filmmaker himself and winner of the African Movie Academy Award — Africa’s Oscar — rushed past the heavily armed police officers, took a deep breath and, with a loud voice, crashed the event.

The invited guests, men and women, were standing in front of him in their sunglasses and suits, wielding their Blackberries. Iroegbu, a slight man with light-brown skin and glasses, grabbing and shaking their hands, said things like: “Let’s make Nollywood happen. We don’t need politics here. Why don’t you just get back to work? Enough with the greed, enough with the power games.” The filmmakers shook their heads, doing their best to ignore this man, a man they despised. Some said he should leave.

When Iroegbu did leave the event and got into his black SUV, he didn’t realize that someone had removed the bolts from the left front wheel. The wheel flew off while he was driving, and he was lucky to escape with nothing more than a few scratches on the car and a few scrapes on his forehead. He was also beaten up recently, says Iroegbu. “Welcome to wonderful Nollywood,” he adds.

View a photo-gallery of Nollywood Pictures

Nollywood is the massive, pulsating film industry in Nigeria, which the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) has declared the world’s second-largest film industry, after India’s Bollywood, based on the number of films produced. Shooting past Hollywood without the world noticing, Nollywood has made it to second place with films about family, love and honor, about AIDS, prostitution and oil, and about ghosts and cannibals.

In other words, films about Africa.

At least 900 films will be produced in Nigeria this year, twice as many as in Hollywood. Nollywood is a $200-million (€148-million) business in a country where 70 percent of the population still lives on less than $1 a day, where residents can consider themselves lucky if the power is on for two hours a day, and where raw sewage runs through open canals along the streets. It is a country known throughout the world for corruption, Internet fraud, prostitution and oil, but certainly not for its film culture.

Iroegbu is determined to change this. He wants to prevent corruption from taking hold of Nollywood and strangling it, as happens with almost all industries in Nigeria. He wants to make Nollywood visible to the rest of the world by promoting quality and creativity.

Iroegbu wants to win an Oscar for his country. That’s the plan.

The center of Nollywood lies in the narrow streets crisscrossing the Alaba market in downtown Lagos. The streets are lined with hundreds of small shops, the ground is muddy and tattered posters for love and action films hang between decaying buildings. The men and women portrayed on the posters are heavily made-up and wear animal skins over their shoulders. The generators hum while the vendors hawk their wares. In the Alaba market, the films that filmmakers like Iroegbu produce every year are burned, packaged and distributed.

By Dialika Krahe

via Speigel

Nigeria’s Silver Screen: Nollywood Photo Gallery

NigeriaPlus — Sun, 02 May 2010 12:53:06 +0000

Click to read “Nollywood only Second to Bollywood in Film Industry Scale”