Love in Every Word: Nollywood’s Distrust of Critical Thoughts and Rising Anti-Intellectualism

Stanley Obi’s Love in Every Word which was released on Omoni Oboli’s YouTube channel has monopolized Nigerians’ attention since its release. The film, written by Mfon-Abasi Micheal Inyang, has amassed over 7 million views (as of the time of writing this essay) and has been the subject of numerous conversations. The heightened level of discourse matches that of Netflix and Prime Video Originals. Think of the almost-unending conversations that Jade Osiberu’s Christmas in Lagos and Kunle Afolayan’s Anikulapo generated. Akin to these Originals, Love in Every Word has generated conversations on the chaotic streets of Twitter (now X), the deceptively-calm wall of IG, and the exclusive page of WhatsApp stories. There is a skit, a spoken word poem, a sound sampling, and an artwork all inspired by the film. As the film keeps accumulating views, it’s important to discuss the rising anti-intellectual comments of a large number of its viewers.

Starring Chioma (Bambam Olawunmi Adenibuyan), an admirably independent lady, Ify (Osereme Inegbenebor), Ivie (Amanda Iriekpen), her two friends and Obiora (Uzor Arukwe), an exceedingly wealthy admirer of Chioma. Chioma, our lead character, is burdened by familial responsibilities and marital expectations. For vague reasons, her toxic and overbearing team lead has decided to heap on the burden. Obiora, on the other hand, is a successful but single businessman. Obiora chanced on Chioma during a family wedding. From their first meeting, fleeting eye contact, the story established a sense of blooming romance. But, as the film will fragmentarily reveal, Chioma wouldn’t budge. However, as the film progresses, it’s Obiora’s persistence and Chioma’s reluctant acceptance of romantic gestures that keep the film moving.

Within the standard of a popcorn movie, Love in Every Word adequately excels. If anything, the continually increasing views are an indication. Like other popcorn movies, Love in Every Word doesn’t aspire to tackle serious dramatic themes, a hefty message, or philosophical depth. It simply serves a purpose: providing enjoyable entertainment. Thus, popcorn films have their merit: escapism. In popular lingo, it’s all vibes and more vibes. And, in a country like Nigeria, the citizens’ demands for escapist entertainment is high. Films, to the mainstream Nigerian audience, an opium; they provide temporary cover from the tidal wave of sadness and systemic failure. Quite interestingly, Nigerian mainstream filmmakers have realized that the functionality of their films isn’t in the artistic and cultural value but in the succor it provides. This understanding has guided and influenced the filmmaking choices of mainstream Nigerian filmmakers over the years. This knowledge “of what Nigerians want” influences these choices: genre, writing, dialogue, and casting. Although it’s formulaic thinking that contradicts and subverts the place of art and unconventionality, for the most part it works. A casual glance through any mainstream Nollywood film, both on YouTube, streaming services, and cinema, will reveal Nigerian audiences’ appreciation of the formulaic filmmaking. These films are dubbed “masterpieces” and become sudden blockbusters. But, despite the defeating acceptance of this reality, is it still possible to interrogate these films and the ideologies they perpetuate beyond their surface-level value?

An affirmative response awaits this question. One of the reasons is simple: it stunts the growth of the industry. Arukwe has constantly been touted as one of the exceptional Nollywood actors. Not only does he extend nuances to the supposedly stereotypical character he plays, he has the attention and heart of the Nollywood audience — an indication of his commercial viability as an actor. A Nigerian audience has casually mentioned how good Bambam can be in the hands of a perfect director and story. But, the sad news is this: we might or will never get that level of artistic excellence and refinement if we keep populating our cinema, and streaming platforms with surface-level characters and artistically and culturally barren films. What we will continually have are these extremely popular films that quickly fizzle out of existence. The film business will bloom, new box office heights will be recorded and actors’ popularity will grow. But, how sustainable is this for the Nigerian film industry currently in its wake of projected global distribution and domination? In an industry where artistic seriousness keeps evading us, how do we address this seated concern?

Another troubling issue needing attention is the anti-intellectual comments of mainstream Nollywood audiences. There is an inexhaustible amount of comments suggesting the futility of intellectually engaging with a Nollywood film. These comments dismiss the artistic and logical importance of discussing film as a medium. They also, subtly, scorn viewers who attempt to critically look at these films. This cancer-like dislike and distrust of dissenting critical appraisal of a film motivate opposition to well-made and executed films and TV series. It bolsters filmmakers’ confidence level to keep churning out films that rarely deserve serious interrogation. It also gives distributors, film executives, and investors, the confidence to strongly distribute films with no intellectual or artistic merits while those that do are trampled upon. On a bigger scale, it gives the wrong message to international audiences about the kind of films and filmmaking practiced in the country. This sobering reality breeds political malnutrition and social apathy. And the result is the endless list of films and TV series, made by both competent and incompetent filmmakers, that’s greatly bereft of any value besides entertainment.

A political parallel that can be drawn from this. In a fiercely capitalist country like Nigeria, art, culture and history aren’t supposed to be, as anti-intellectual comments will make us believe, discussed for their artistic or philosophical merits. They are, as some of the previously highlighted comments shown, supposed to be glossy glanced through. No immediate demands should be placed on the filmmakers to make arts that ask questions or make people ask questions. The political parallel lies in the Nigerian government’s detached and fragmented engagement and response to education. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s 2025 “Budget of Restoration” (N54.99 trillion) allocated N3.5 trillion for education (6.36 percent). This is a meager percentage compared to the 26% suggestion by the United Nations Education and Socio-Cultural Organization(UNESCO). Last year, Nigerian tertiary institutions, both state and federal-owned universities, witnessed a shocking wave of school fee increments making education unattainable for many Nigerians. Thinking through this, a possible conclusion that can be drawn from this is the disinterest of the Nigerian government in building the intellectual strength of its citizens. Thus, in a disillusioned space like Nigeria where education is a footnote, it can be expected that film should embrace the general superficialities and hollowness citizens are expected to exude. But, art and film can aspire beyond that. Filmmakers, who are artistically inclined and philosophy-propelled, should aspire to make films that interrogate these issues. The burden of educating the audience is a sacred duty filmmakers should embrace.

Is one disillusioned in their expectation of a heightened level of sensibilities and intellect to be attached to making Nollywood films and building characters? Should upcoming filmmakers care about nuances, near-perfect dialogue, and well-grounded execution? Should independent writers and directors care about character nuances and identities when caricature characters assure box office and high streaming views? Should well-rounded characters be damned when dimwitted characters and films paraded across the streaming and theatre platforms are making waves? Should the average Nigerian critic care despite shouting the voice into oblivion? Should the average film audience keep complaining despite their opinions falling on deaf ears? Should the industry care at all? These are questions that need deep introspection as we hope to fashion a sustainable film industry.