Local language films and the reverse side of the production prisis

– Carmen By Alessandro Jedlowski Nollywood, as every video enthusiast knows, is anything but a homogenous phenomenon. On the contrary, it seems more precise to limit the use of this already largely-contested epithet to the section of the Nigerian video industry that produces mainly in English. For many years, this branch of the industry has […]

Local language films and the reverse side of the production prisis
Local language films and the reverse side of the production prisis

– Carmen


By Alessandro Jedlowski

Nollywood, as every video enthusiast knows, is anything but a homogenous phenomenon. On the contrary, it seems more precise to limit the use of this already largely-contested epithet to the section of the Nigerian video industry that produces mainly in English.

For many years, this branch of the industry has been the most productive and undoubtedly has the largest international circulation and recognition. On the other hand, the industries producing videos in Hausa and Yoruba, as well as the growing branches in Edo, Bini, Ibibio and other languages, have often clearly stated their autonomy vis-à-vis the Nollywood phenomenon. They grew out of different social environments; they deploy specific narratives and aesthetics, and they often circulate according to different networks.

As it has been widely written in Nigerian newspapers in the past few months, Nollywood is traversing a crisis of production that is profoundly transforming its modes of operation. New cinemas are emerging, and new high value productions are competing to conquer the hearts of the Nigerian audiences. If we stick to the definition of Nollywood I gave above, a question arises spontaneously: what has happened in the local language industries since Nollywood entered this crisis of production?

A first general answer is given in the data released by the National Film and Video Censors Board (NFVCB). According to the organization, the local language productions are clearly overtaking the dominant position once occupied by the English movies. In the past five years, the English video films have dropped from around 45% of the total production (639 English videos released in 2006) to as little as 11% in 2010 (133 videos released).

On the opposite side, the Yoruba industry became the dominant branch of the video phenomenon, releasing up to around 55% of the films that today circulate in Nigeria. The Hausa branch grew steadily as well, passing from 16-17% of the total productions in 2006 to around 30% in 2010, with around 350 videos released. Even if this data is not completely reliable, it does give a general sense of the trends traversing the video industry.

Another question follows thus: why did production in the English video industry reduce while production in local language movies boomed? The answer to this question is not simple and needs to be addressed carefully. The English section of the Nigerian video production is the one that in terms of numbers, developed more quickly. Like every business that guarantees good returns, the industry has attracted many newcomers, most of whom have almost no idea of what a film looks like. The number of videos produced increased; their average quality worsened, and the audience started to feel cheated.

Satellite television and internet platforms began to provide the audience with limitless content and pirates had the rest. To cut a long story short, the market was quickly saturated and after a series of partial collapses, always more or less neutralized by momentary solutions—the crisis of production that we know today, emerged.

How do the local language industries differ from the scenario I just sketched? First of all, while the English section of the industry was booming, industries in local languages were keeping a more stable rhythm of production. The films they produced could hardly sell as many copies as the large amount of sales recorded by an English film. Thus profits were smaller and competition, less tough.

Within this framework, wide networks of social solidarity tended to keep these industries more cohesive. The production rate was important, but the economy of it was smaller, when compared to the one generated by the English section of the industry. It was an economy of small numbers: smaller budgets of production; smaller numbers of copies on the market, smaller profits, but enough to go on and produce another film time after time.

Furthermore, it seems reasonable to say that the local language branches of the industry enjoyed a larger loyalty from their audiences who saw them as the only available form of entertainment in their respective languages.

While the English language films had to compete with the films from the Anglophone world [such as Hollywood, and the Anglophone Bollywood films], local language films were the only available product of their genre on the market. Besides local language films tended to be shown much less on satellite television channels.

Hence, the situation for the local language industries seemed bright. However, in my view, certain things should be taken into account to prevent the production crisis from extending into the indigenous movie sector. What dragged the English videos down was probably the excessive commercial competition and informal methods which brought about a saturation that led to the ‘collapse’ of the industry.

In my view, the local language branches risk going exactly in the same direction as production is increasing without regulation. The tremendous success of a film like Jenifa, for instance, has attracted many adventurous investors in the Yoruba movie industry. Something similar might happen soon in the North as well.

In March 2010, M-Net introduced two new Africa Magic channels: one broadcasting only Yoruba films and the other purely Hausa films. The impact of these two channels on the market of local language films could further modify the situation within the industry by reducing the number of original copies sold directly on the market.

Even if Yoruba and Hausa film audiences might be more loyal than those that used to patronize the English videos, their resources are not limitless and their enthusiasm for local content can quickly vanish if video producers do not find ways to consistently diversify the narratives and aesthetics of their productions. People might stop buying videos so easily and quickly as the films are being made.

Producers still have the time to find original solutions, for instance, by promoting legal distribution via the internet, by spending more money on script development and treatment, and by coordinating themselves to avoid the risk of saturation.

Film production in local languages can have an important role in the future of Nigerian cinema, and will surely contribute to the preservation and transmission of the local cultural heritage. But the economy of this production needs to be addressed attentively and soon enough to prevent the risk of another crisis. If not, the risk of a crisis similar to the one that affected the English video industry lurks around the corner for the indigenous film industry.