Lagos Fringe Festival 2025: Chukwu Martin’s “Tell It No More” Resists The Imbalance In Traditional Marital Expectations 

Tell It No More, written by Temilolu Fosudo and directed by Chukwu Martin, wastes no time in declaring its intentions. From the opening scene, Darasimi (Martha Ehinome), on her wedding day, succumbs to her mother’s stream of advice on how to be a “proper” wife. The older Yoruba woman insists that patience and submission are essential for marital survival, delivering her counsel in a tone shaped by a long-standing patriarchal tradition that demands unquestioning respect and deference to older men, especially those who hold authority within the family.

The Yoruba saying, Ọkọ ni ọlọ́wọ́ orí aya enforces the headship position of a man over his wife in the family. This suggests the inequality of both genders within the structure of marriage, and challenges popular feminist sentiments about a man being no more equal than a woman. In the Nigerian context, a hierarchical perception of authority within marriage may not immediately be considered problematic. Many tolerate this social conditioning and masculine privilege provided that it is exercised judiciously and with fairness in decision-making. Where the real problem lies—and a recipe for marital disaster—is when the husband fails to assume responsibility and uphold the dignity of the wife’s respect, when he does not lead by example. In Tell It No More, from the outset, there is already a premonition of rebellion against this traditional order. This deliberate emphasis hints at predictability, one that is fascinating but…predictable still.

As the film pulls us into the marriage, an emotional strain surfaces. The pregnant Darasimi’s husband (Temilolu Fosudo), distracted by a football match, refuses to drive his wife to the salon. That moment, portrayed in what seems like an innocuous refusal, is pregnant with suspicion. At the salon, Darasimi confides in the hairdresser Itunu (Omowunmi Damilola Tuase-Fosudo) during an intimate conversation about marital life, with the exchange culminating in what is a shocking—maybe not entirely shocking since there are hints before then—discovery of her husband’s raunchiness and infidelity.

The salon scene has the most dialogue in the film, with the conversation between the two women presenting two polar ends of an argument about modern marriage in Nigeria. While Darasimi has been brainwashed into believing that only the woman holds the key to protecting her marriage regardless of the husband’s commitment and conduct, Itunu is clearly convinced that marriage is a purposeless enterprise for women. With Itunu’s position, the film, in its attempt to advocate for the accountability of both partners in marriage, risks demonizing the institution entirely and encouraging childbirth outside marriage. What we cannot, however, dispute is the film’s awareness about the modern dynamics of romantic relationships and alternatives to the marital institution.

The inconclusiveness of the final scene, where Darasimi quietly confronts her speechless husband with picture evidence of his infidelity, is an invitation to the audience to partake in the narrative. Will Darasimi divorce her husband or detach from her still fresh marriage? Or will she hold onto the traditional ideals ingrained in her, hoping that dialogue and forgiveness will restrain her husband from further infidelity? This is also a point in the film where common sense clashes with emotional vulnerability. It is okay that the film does not pass its own judgement, but it is even more heartwarming that the audience are recognized as god-like participants capable of making judgement that dictates the fate of the marriage in their own mental spaces.