For centuries, African folklore has served purposes beyond entertainment. Myths, oral traditions, and spiritual beliefs have long been used to explain the unknown, preserve cultural memory, and communicate moral truths across generations. Contemporary African storytellers continue to draw from this tradition, but many have moved beyond simply retelling folklore. Instead, they use it as a narrative lens through which modern anxieties, conflicts and philosophical questions can be explored.
This is particularly evident in Uchenna Awoke’s novel A Siege of Owls and Kunle Afolayan‘s acclaimed film The Figurine (Araromire). Although separated by nearly two decades and created in different artistic forms, both works show how African folklore can remain deeply relevant in contemporary storytelling. Rather than treating traditional beliefs as relics of a forgotten past, Awoke and Afolayan position them within recognisably modern Nigerian realities, allowing mythology and everyday life to coexist without diminishing either. Together, they ask a single enduring question that neither attempts to answer outright: how much of what shapes our lives is determined by destiny, and how much by the choices we make?
Both stories begin with seemingly ordinary acts of curiosity that alter the course of their protagonists’ lives. In The Figurine, two friends discover an ancient statue hidden inside an abandoned shrine during their National Youth Service. According to local legend, the figurine grants seven years of extraordinary prosperity before ushering in seven years of devastating misfortune for whoever possesses it. Their decision to remove the object appears harmless at first, but as fortunes rise and later collapse, every tragedy becomes entangled with the legend surrounding Araromire.
Similarly, A Siege of Owls opens with young Ekwe ignoring his father’s warning not to touch the forbidden ekwukwonju leaf. What begins as an act of childhood curiosity evolves into an extraordinary odyssey through dreamlike landscapes and a Nigeria fractured by insurgency, displacement, and communal violence. The magical event that propels the novel never exists in isolation. Instead, it becomes intertwined with recognisable social realities, creating a world where folklore and contemporary history occupy the same narrative space. From there, the similarities become even more striking in how both works refuse to establish clear boundaries between the supernatural and the rational.
Perhaps the most memorable aspect of The Figurine is not its famous curse but its refusal to confirm the existence of the curse. Throughout the film, every misfortune appears capable of two interpretations. One reading suggests that the goddess Araromire is exacting the second half of her legendary bargain. Another points towards human jealousy, manipulation, and betrayal as the real causes of tragedy. Even after the film reaches its dramatic climax, Afolayan deliberately leaves room for ambiguity, ending with the now-famous question, “What do you believe?”
Rather than resolving the tension between traditional spirituality and modern rationality, the film transfers that responsibility to its audience. The ambiguity is not a narrative weakness but one of the film’s defining artistic strengths. Viewers leave the story carrying different interpretations, each supported by the evidence the film carefully presents. Awoke adopts a similarly restrained approach in A Siege of Owls. The novel’s magical realism allows mystical experiences to exist without demanding literal belief. Ekwe’s journeys after touching the forbidden leaf unfold alongside political violence, migration, terrorism and communal conflict, making the mystical feel neither extraordinary nor unbelievable. In turn, the novel explores how folklore shapes the emotional and psychological realities of those who inhabit it.
This reflects one of its greatest strengths. It does not interrupt reality with fantasy but allows both to exist simultaneously. Awoke’s mythical landscapes become another way of interpreting a country struggling with insecurity, displacement, and uncertainty. Another notable similarity lies in how both creators use symbols rooted in African folklore to deepen their narratives. In The Figurine, the Araromire statue is more than an object carrying an ancient curse. It becomes a symbol of temptation, desire, ambition, and consequence. Every major decision made by the central characters eventually circles back to the figurine, whether or not it truly possesses supernatural power. Its physical presence quietly influences relationships, fuels suspicion, and magnifies the emotional fractures already present between friends and lovers.
Awoke employs a similarly layered symbolism through the recurring appearance of owls. Across many Nigerian communities, owls have long been associated with misfortune or spiritual warning. In A Siege of Owls, these birds repeatedly appear around moments of violence and upheaval, functioning as visual reminders of impending danger. Yet they are never reduced to simple omens. They also become symbols of fear, memory, and the invisible weight carried by communities living under the constant threat of conflict. Neither storyteller asks audiences to accept these symbols literally. Their power lies as much in what they represent psychologically as in what they represent spiritually.
Importantly, folklore never overshadows the humanity of either story. While supernatural possibilities shape both narratives, their emotional centres remain profoundly human. In The Figurine, the curse alone cannot explain the collapse of friendships or relationships. Love, envy, betrayal and unspoken resentment gradually emerge as equally powerful forces driving the narrative forward. The mystery surrounding Araromire may create suspense, but the tragedy ultimately rests upon recognisably human emotions.
Likewise, A Siege of Owls never allows magical realism to distract from the realities its characters confront. Through Ekwe’s journey, Awoke examines displacement, herder-farmer conflicts, political instability, child marriage and the search for belonging. The novel’s folklore provides an imaginative framework through which these realities can be experienced without diminishing their seriousness.
This balance is one of the defining achievements of both works. Their supernatural elements never function as escapism. Instead, they illuminate realities that remain painfully recognisable across contemporary Nigeria. Thematically, both works also challenge simplistic understandings of fate by showing that human agency still matters. Although destiny appears to govern the events surrounding both Ekwe and the characters in The Figurine, neither creator completely surrenders human agency.
In Afolayan’s film, audiences are constantly encouraged to question whether the characters become victims of an unavoidable curse or whether their own decisions gradually create the tragedies they later blame on supernatural forces. Prosperity breeds ambition, ambition breeds envy, and envy eventually leads to devastating consequences. Whether Araromire exists or not becomes almost secondary to the destructive choices people make when consumed by greed or desire.
Awoke’s novel presents a similar tension. Ekwe’s journey begins because of a mystical act, but what follows is shaped just as much by the choices of the people he encounters. Violence, compassion, betrayal and resilience emerge not from magic alone but from ordinary human behaviour unfolding within extraordinary circumstances. The novel therefore resists reducing suffering to destiny. Instead, it presents folklore as one of many ways people interpret the unpredictable forces shaping their lives. Another significant point of convergence is their treatment of African oral traditions. Both works demonstrate remarkable confidence in indigenous storytelling without feeling obligated to explain every cultural reference for international audiences. Yoruba mythology forms the backbone of The Figurine, while A Siege of Owls draws extensively from Igbo folklore, oral storytelling traditions, and symbolic imagery. Rather than simplifying these traditions into spectacle, both creators allow them to exist with dignity and complexity.
This confidence reflects a broader shift within African literature and cinema. Increasingly, creators are telling culturally specific stories without diluting their perspectives for global consumption. Local myths become universal not because they abandon their origins, but because they reveal recognisable human experiences. That cultural specificity also contributes to the lasting appeal of both works. The folklore grounding each narrative feels inseparable from the communities that produced it. Their myths do not exist merely as fantasy but as living repositories of memory, belief, and identity.
Stylistically, however, the two works arrive at these ideas through different narrative approaches. The Figurine operates primarily as a psychological thriller. Suspense is carefully constructed through uncertainty, visual symbolism, and an atmosphere that constantly invites viewers to question what they have seen. Fear emerges less from monsters than from the possibility that ordinary life may be governed by forces beyond human understanding. A Siege of Owls, meanwhile, embraces the expansive possibilities of magical realism. Awoke’s lyrical prose moves fluidly between dream and reality, allowing mythological elements to coexist naturally with political violence and social commentary. Rather than creating horror, the supernatural often deepens the novel’s emotional and philosophical resonance.
Despite these formal differences, both creators display remarkable narrative restraint. Neither overexplains its mythology nor reduces folklore to decorative symbolism. Instead, traditional beliefs become active narrative structures through which questions of morality, identity, and survival are explored. Ultimately, the greatest achievement shared by A Siege of Owls and The Figurine is their refusal to provide easy answers. In an era where audiences often expect stories to explain every mystery, both works embrace ambiguity as a creative strength rather than a flaw.
The question posed at the end of The Figurine, “What do you believe?,” could also serve as the philosophical foundation of Awoke’s novel. In both works, folklore becomes less about proving the existence of supernatural forces than about exploring how people construct meaning in uncertain worlds. Perhaps that is why these stories continue to resonate. They remind audiences that myths endure not because they compete with reality but because they help people navigate it. Whether through a cursed figurine hidden in an abandoned shrine or an owl circling above a child caught between dreams and violence, folklore remains a powerful way to explore fear, hope, morality, and the fragile boundaries between fate and free will.
In both The Figurine and A Siege of Owls, the supernatural is never the destination. It is the pathway through which deeply human stories unfold. Long after their mysteries fade, what lingers is not whether the myths were true, but how profoundly they shaped the people who chose to believe them, or refused to.
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