(By Immanuel James Ibe-Anyanwu) - There
was that billboard of a certain West-African president who was dressed in an
Igbo traditional attire. A loud caption gave meaning:"Igwe!" It was
easy to locate the source of that cultural benefaction, credit rightfully
placed at the feet of Nollywood, Nigeria's largest exporter of culture and
values. Books and social media can tell the Nigerian story, but none can boast
the compelling, even hypnotic power of the movie.
Which
is why we should worry about the competence of movie makers—their cultural
intelligence and sense of sensational restraint. Their products speak to
millions, most of whom are illiterate and poor, but powerful. Powerful in their
sheer number, in their capacity to spread a social or religious poison. They
are the very agencies often punctual at lynching scenes, consumers of wild
superstitions on whom depends the fate of that fellow accused of manhood theft
in the local market.
For
the most part, the Old Nollywood is run by Igbo scriptwriters, directors, and
producers, who are businessmen more than they are artists. For too long we have
watched their cultural illiteracy ruin the integrity of much of what stands for
Igbo culture and values; we have watched them distort historical facts, fixate
on and promote ugly, exaggerated stereotypes, even invent cultural obscenities
that do not exist. We have seen Igwes who do nothing all day other than look
like frogs on shiny thrones, flanked by two able-bodied human fans, as they
condemn villagers to evil forests, when they do not order their deaths
outright. We can tolerate such cultural inventiveness for its decorative value,
aware that fiction need not be exact and realistic.
But
we cannot keep quiet when a false narrative is retold a million times, so much
it gains credibility on the streets and becomes a threat to the innocent. In
Nollywood, we have repeatedly watched some young person die and suddenly appear
in the cupboard of his urban relative, vomiting crisp Naira notes. We have
watched rich men eat up the destinies of their layabout relatives, who take
snuff and play draughts all day. We have watched strokes, heart attacks, and
some other uncommon ailments become the spiritual transmissions of some
poverty-stricken uncle. Village elders in uniforms, propelled by walking sticks
and evil, their pockets bursting with charms. Traditional priests nearly
permanently evil, living among forest plants, eyes circled in chalk, watching
their preys in some mirror to strike at any moment, albeit soon to be defeated
yet again by some Bible-wielding acrobat.
Sometimes
I go to the village and wonder where these diabolical characters have all gone
to. Helped by a certain strain of Pentecostal Christianity, Nollywood is
filling minds with horrible notions of life, dangerous superstitions that rip
families apart, demonizing people's successes, and putting lives in danger. A
murder case in Bayelsa recently was quickly tagged money ritual, such that
youths went on rampage attacking Igbo lives and property.
This
insane cultural perfidy must stop. We intend to raise this conversation and get
the industry to self-critique. We will sponsor this page and expose the vandals
of truth and tradition among intelligent Igbos and other Nigerians. In South
Africa, for instance, many, misinformed by Nollywood, believe charms are part
of the Nigerian social iconography. We cannot keep quiet and let a powerful
ignorance pollute our story and our standing among forward-looking, educated,
21st-century human beings. Join us!
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