When global streaming giants like Netflix turned their eyes to Africa, Nigeria was the obvious starting point. Nollywood is the second-largest film industry in the world by volume, and Nigerian content already had a thriving global audience through YouTube, iROKOtv, and African Magic.
So when Netflix started commissioning original films and licensing local content around 2019, the excitement was justified. This was our chance to refine storytelling, build global franchises, empower new talent, and shift the narrative of what Nollywood could be.
Instead, that golden opportunity was largely monopolized, and squandered, by a few powerful gatekeepers. Chief among them: Kunle Afolayan and Mo Abudu.
Kunle Afolayan: Prestige Over Progress
Kunle Afolayan is widely respected as one of Nollywood’s most “serious” filmmakers. His early works like The Figurine and October 1 raised the bar for production value in Nigeria. So when Netflix signed a multi-title deal with him, expectations were sky high.
What followed? Films like Citation, Swallow, A Naija Christmas, and Ijogbon. Each was beautifully shot, but shallow. The writing lacked depth, and the storytelling rarely pushed boundaries. Most of them leaned heavily on aesthetics and nostalgia, but delivered little in terms of compelling narrative, emotional complexity, or global relevance.
Instead of using his platform to mentor upcoming writers or collaborate with edgy, socially conscious storytellers, Afolayan largely recycled the same formula, and cast, while framing his work as high art. He positioned himself as a cinematic purist but failed to evolve.
Result? Global audiences weren’t moved. Critics were lukewarm. And younger Nigerian viewers tuned out.
Mo Abudu: The Queen of Glamour and Glitz
Mo Abudu, founder of EbonyLife, entered the Netflix era with unmatched media power. She’s known as “Africa’s Oprah” and positioned herself as the face of Nigerian storytelling to the world. Netflix even signed a landmark multi-title deal with EbonyLife in 2020, a move hailed as historic.
But while her productions (Oloture, The Royal Hibiscus Hotel, Chief Daddy 2, Blood Sisters) came with big budgets and glitzy marketing, the content often failed to deliver substance. Mo’s focus seemed more aligned with visual appeal and elite access than with strong writing, character depth, or originality.
Chief Daddy 2, in particular, was so poorly received that Netflix Nigeria had to issue a public apology after its release. The backlash wasn’t about hate, it was frustration. Viewers felt insulted. With all that access, how could the storytelling be this shallow?
Even Oloture, one of her more critically acclaimed projects, was marred by controversy when the original writer, Tobore Ovuorie, accused EbonyLife of using her life story without credit or compensation. That scandal underscored a larger issue: elitism, exploitation, and gatekeeping disguised as empowerment.
The Bigger Problem: Closed Doors, Recycled Ideas
Both Afolayan and Abudu had the platform, the money, and the global attention. But instead of nurturing new talent, decentralizing storytelling, or challenging narrative norms, they kept it in-house, repeating actors, cliques, and safe stories.
Meanwhile, brilliant indie filmmakers like Abba Makama (The Lost Okoroshi), CJ Obasi (Mami Wata), Brenda Garuba ( My Mama Na Ashawo) and many more were left to hustle for recognition despite international acclaim.
Netflix came ready to invest in Nigerian brilliance. But brilliance wasn’t handed the mic, power was. And that power often chose familiarity over risk, aesthetics over story, and image over impact.
Yes, Afolayan and Abudu are pioneers. No one denies their contributions. But with great influence comes greater responsibility, and they fumbled a pivotal moment.
This isn’t cancellation. It’s a call to accountability. The next chapter of Nollywood must center story, system, and shared power. Not just star power.
Because when gatekeepers hoard opportunity, the entire industry suffers.
We can still get it right. But only if we stop protecting names at the expense of progress.
By Chioma Amaryllis Ahaghotu