Nollywood Under Scrutiny: Unpacking the “Gangs of Lagos” Court Verdict and Its Impact on Nigerian Filmmakers 

About two years ago, when Gangs of Lagos was released on Amazon Prime Video as her first Nigerian Original film, it was met with mixed reactions. Some praised the film as a milestone in modern Nigerian storytelling. Apologists of traditions accused the producers of misrepresenting Isale Eko and defaming the sacred Eyo Masquerade institution. I wrote about the concerns of the most vocal and aggrieved group, the Isale Eko Descendants Union (IDU), providing brief legal and historical contexts to assess the weight of their claims. Many months after a lawsuit seeking 10 billion naira in damages was filed, a Lagos High Court, in a legal document dated 20th February, 2025, ruled that the film producers, which includes Jade Osiberu and Kemi Lala Akindoju, should officially apologise to the IDU as part of efforts to reach an amicable conciliation. The court ruling also mandated Amazon Web Services to issue on its letterhead, a letter that validated and appealed to the IDU’s grievances.

Harmless as it seems on the surface, this court ruling sets a dangerous precedent for cases around the boundaries of creative latitude, especially concerning culture representations in Nollywood. Culture, as we know, services our attitude towards existence as individuals and collectives in society. Every society has its unique cultural values and traditions which it preserves against extinction and exports where and when necessary through different mechanisms. Nollywood, a prerogative of Nigeria’s entertainment hemisphere, owes us, as Nigerians and global citizens, this responsibility of culture preservation and exportation. To this effect, there are vivid and covert references to sacred cultural institutions in our diverse films—from romance to historical epics, action thrillers and dramas. New Nollywood epics like House of Gaa, Beast of Two Worlds, Jagun Jagun, King of Thieves, Seven Doors, and the two-part Lisabi, provide a hybrid of historical fact and fantasy, all rooted, to varying degrees, in cultural sensibilities. Where the problem lies, it seems, is when these films do not provide representations that are considered satisfactory to the cultural preservationists.

Let’s revert, for a while, to Sections 74 – 76 of the Nigerian Copyright Act of 2022, which protects tradition-based creations from undue commercialisation. The Act does not necessarily deter Nollywood filmmakers from portraying cultural symbols and institutions, but it recommends fair dealing, utilization for educational purposes, ethical borrowings and adoption in an original work. Intellectual property and entertainment lawyer Henry Ezikeoha adds that “If a person, business or legal entity feels a movie has portrayed them in bad light capable of causing public hate, ridicule, etc., then the injured party can sue on grounds of defamation.”

The law crosses paths with film in a couple of ways. There is defamation and libel, which is highlighted in the case at hand here. Likewise, copyright and intellectual property concerns are discernible in the recent Omoni Oboli drone footage scandal. In addition, the Child Rights Act of 2003 safeguards Nollywood child actors against abuse and the extremities of the industry. These legal interferences influence the boundaries of storytelling, with regards to what and how certain elements are interpreted on screens. But then, court rulings as that of Gangs of Lagos vs the Isale Eko Descendants Union (IDU) impugn the creativity of Nollywood filmmakers, limiting the stretch of their imagination and making them so overcautious about culture representation to the extent that the filmmakers miss out on certain nuances to avoid legal repercussions. Doing this inescapably compromises the quality of storytelling in the industry.

Films are subtle tools of indoctrination, and may possess the capacity to reprogramme the human psyche, centering narratives for noble or, otherwise, sinister purposes. We know that peddling false doctrines rubs off negatively on cherished traditional values and existential paradigms. However, except for the documentary form, films are and should primarily be thought of as “fiction”, with any semblances to reality therein considered purely fortuitous. With this in mind, Nollywood filmmakers should continually retain a similar liberty as fiction writers and poets. A court ruling as that of Gangs of Lagos vs the Isale Eko Descendants Union (IDU) does a disservice to this autonomy, excessively empowering and encouraging people and groups in the future to take up legal arms against creatives in the industry for even venial indiscretions. Devious groups may try to score cheap points by intimidating and exploiting filmmakers through out-of-court, financial settlements. For an industry that is still underfunded and trying to find its feet in global spaces, this feels like sabotage. Independent filmmakers, who risk both money and time, will likely be discouraged from exploring certain kinds of narratives and genres, such as the historical epic, for fear of attracting costly legal battles. And that’s because legal battles are incendiary, a ticking time bomb for the creative’s reputation. Executive producers and potential financiers, too, may become cynical and cut down investments in Nollywood productions. Dreams become jaded. The perennial effect is a dearth of artistic legitimacy and cinematic evolution.