And Okonkwo Goes Viral!

(Pius Adesanmi)--Thank You, Millennials!

Despite sorrow, despite anguish, despite depression over Kogi state, Nigeria, today, I somehow had to find the strength to go and teach that introduction to African literature second-year class.

Discussions came to the cultural and contextual bases of similes, metaphors, and other figures of speech. I take an example from Things Fall Apart:

"During this time Okonkwo’s fame had grown like a bush-fire in the harmattan"

The Internet of Prosperity Gospel

"In the hand of the Internet, Pentecostalism has also 'seen pepper,' to borrow a popular Nigerian expression. Contemporary Pentecostalism in Nigeria operates a theology of instant prosperity and endless miracles that has transformed it into one of the most lucrative sectors of the Nigerian economy.

"Instant razzmatazz woven around a deified character always known as Founder General Overseer. If the God of Nigerian Pentecostalism is not a God of poverty, as adherents of that version of Christianity insist, He nonetheless has this annoying habit of always zeroing in on the Founder General Overseer as the only example of boundless prosperity among thousand of poverty-ridden church members. Thus, the Founder General Overseer is often the only one God elects to deck in Armani suits and Ferragamo loafers, supply with posh cars that can sometimes run two hundred kilometres on empty, and ferry across the world in a private jet. Sometimes, as is the case with [some of them], the bonus of a fake American accent is added unto these numerous blessings.

"But the Internet is what we Nigerians call amebo--a busybody, a loudmouth, a flaneur, a voyeur, and a whistle-blower rolled into one. And so, when the Internet pokes its unwanted nose into the business of the gospel, you could have a scandal of international proportions develop around something as ordinary as a pastor buying a private jet in an ocean of poverty."

Pius Adesanmi

You're Not a Country, Africa

Nollywood and Benefits of the Internet

VENDORS snake their way between cars in the Lagos traffic, hawking the latest Nollywood DVDs to tired drivers. Nigeria’s film industry churns out up to 50 titles a week. Most go straight to DVD to be sold on the streets for the equivalent of a couple of dollars. But the market can be slow. Taiwo, a hawker in the commercial capital, says that on a good day he might sell five films. “When it’s quiet, maybe two.”

Nollywood is a big business—contributing 1.2% to Nigeria’s gross domestic product and employing more than a million people—but the distribution of its films poses a barrier to the industry’s growth. Sales of DVDs account for more than 90% of revenue but filmmakers complain that poor regulation of street markets leaves them open to piracy. That, combined with often low sales volumes, means that little cash reaches their pockets.

The saving grace is that most of Nollywood’s output is shot on a minuscule budget. Nollywood productions… are often filmed in just ten days and cost some $40,000, yielding notoriously low-end content. “Making money is tough, especially for film-makers who are increasing the budget, paying more attention to the quality, and making movies that can travel,” says Obi Emelonye, a director. “Distribution is hands-down the biggest problem... Solve that, and Nollywood will explode.”