Mixed fortunes in the Delta

Sefi Atta's play ‘The Cost of Living' parodies Niger Delta "I'm not poor! I'm broke or should I say the cost of living is too high." This was the frustrated cry of Pius, a role played by Toyin Oshinaike in Sefi Atta's play ‘The cost of living'. It was staged on Sunday, March 6 at Terra Kulture, Victoria Island, Lagos; and will be performed at the venue till the end of this month.
Crucial issues pertaining to the Niger Delta region are emphasised in the play. Some of these include: the prevalence of kidnapping, unemployment and inadequate provision of social amenities. The mismanagement of crude oil and the preference of foreigners over indigenes by oil companies, are also among issues explored.
In the one-act play with only two characters, Atta parodies the economic crisis in the Niger Delta. It was written late last year, at a time when the fate of the Delta was subject to much debate in the public arena.
The characters
The play is is directed by Nick Monu; and opens to a struggle between the two men depicted. One of the men is a blindfolded man and the other is the captor, Pius, who holds a gun to his head. It is strange that the blindfolded doesn't beg for his life but is defiant. He attempts to hold the nuzzle of the gun to his forehead and asks to be shot. This creates suspense in the play as the audience is left wondering why.
Pius
Toyin Oshinaike plays the role of Pius, a young Nigerian graduate in Port Harcourt. He is the abductor who holds an employee of an Oil company hostage. His reaction to his prisoner's defiance is at first surprise, but he quickly puts on the facade of a mean captor. However, he is disturbed by his prisoner's fatalism. "Do you want to die?" he asks.
He immediately creates the impression that he is tough and mean but all he actually wants from his prisoner is money. He makes it clear that his prisoner will be of no use to him dead. It becomes obvious during the course of the play that he isn't actually mean but is pushed to this act by economic desperation. "I can't even pay back my family, let alone support them," he says.
Pius represents many young Nigerian graduates who remain unemployed. He feels cheated by the fact that all the available jobs in the oil companies are given to foreigners.
Although he has a degree in Engineering, he remains unemployed while the foreigners are readily offered jobs. The unfairness of the situation frustrates him."If I can't find work here, I can't find anywhere else," he laments.
Pius and his partner, whom we never see, are called "a couple of amateurs" by his hostage. It is clear that it is his first time of being an abductor.
Mike Broussard
The role of Mike Broussard is played by Frank Adekunle Macaulay. He is the abducted who hails from New Orleans, Louisiana. He is also frustrated with life, which is indeed surprising to Pius. However, Broussard's job isn't actually as high paying as Pius believes.
"That's more than you'll pay me if I worked for a year!" he shouts To his employer on the phone, shocked at the huge ransom demanded for him. But he is more shocked that his employers are willing to pay that much. This infuriates him and he maintains that the money shouldn't be paid.
Mike's interaction with Pius leads him to certain revelations about Nigerians that he never knew. One of these is the discovery that Pius is a graduate; this surprises him.
He is a major cause of the turn of events in the play and later facilitates the payment of his ransom.
Set, costume and lightning
The set design by Simone Monu was fitting. The stage was bare, save for a lone mattress and chair which well portrayed an impoverished room where someone could be held captive. There was no need for the props on stage to change since all events of the one act take place in a single room. The lightning was also well deployed from the very beginning where Broussard is brought into the room blindfolded.
The Delta story
‘The Cost of Living' is a familiar old story about the Delta but is told from two different perspectives, that of the Nigerian and the foreigner. Pius represents the Nigerian perspective while Broussard represents the other. It is difficult to tell who the victim really is as events take a different turn towards the end of the play. You imagine that the victim is Broussard with the blindfolds on his eyes and the gun pointed at him. Later, you begin to wonder if it isn't Pius that is victimised by the foreigners who take the available jobs and leave him jobless.
Much is revealed about the in the dialogue between both men, which is the most appealing feature of the play. They see life differently but are both frustrated. The Nigerian is frustrated with the economic situation of the country. He complains about the inadequate supply of basic infrastructures thus, "When we have light, it's a miracle." The play also draws the attention of the audience to the Nigerian culture. Examples of this are the mention of ‘respect' and ‘dowry' by Pius.
There is also the suggestion that Nigerians strive to survive the hardship they face by his words to Mike: "Over here, you don't die until you are dead." It is however a short play that ends almost abruptly, just when you're looking forward to another action taking place.

Mixed fortunes in the Delta


Sefi Atta's play ‘The Cost of Living' parodies Niger Delta "I'm not poor! I'm broke or should I say the cost of living is too high." This was the frustrated cry of Pius, a role played by Toyin Oshinaike in Sefi Atta's play ‘The cost of living'. It was staged on Sunday, March 6 at Terra Kulture, Victoria Island, Lagos; and will be performed at the venue till the end of this month.
Crucial issues pertaining to the Niger Delta region are emphasised in the play. Some of these include: the prevalence of kidnapping, unemployment and inadequate provision of social amenities. The mismanagement of crude oil and the preference of foreigners over indigenes by oil companies, are also among issues explored.
In the one-act play with only two characters, Atta parodies the economic crisis in the Niger Delta. It was written late last year, at a time when the fate of the Delta was subject to much debate in the public arena.
The characters
The play is is directed by Nick Monu; and opens to a struggle between the two men depicted. One of the men is a blindfolded man and the other is the captor, Pius, who holds a gun to his head. It is strange that the blindfolded doesn't beg for his life but is defiant. He attempts to hold the nuzzle of the gun to his forehead and asks to be shot. This creates suspense in the play as the audience is left wondering why.
Pius
Toyin Oshinaike plays the role of Pius, a young Nigerian graduate in Port Harcourt. He is the abductor who holds an employee of an Oil company hostage. His reaction to his prisoner's defiance is at first surprise, but he quickly puts on the facade of a mean captor. However, he is disturbed by his prisoner's fatalism. "Do you want to die?" he asks.
He immediately creates the impression that he is tough and mean but all he actually wants from his prisoner is money. He makes it clear that his prisoner will be of no use to him dead. It becomes obvious during the course of the play that he isn't actually mean but is pushed to this act by economic desperation. "I can't even pay back my family, let alone support them," he says.
Pius represents many young Nigerian graduates who remain unemployed. He feels cheated by the fact that all the available jobs in the oil companies are given to foreigners.
Although he has a degree in Engineering, he remains unemployed while the foreigners are readily offered jobs. The unfairness of the situation frustrates him."If I can't find work here, I can't find anywhere else," he laments.
Pius and his partner, whom we never see ,are called "a couple of amateurs" by his hostage. It is clear that it is his first time of being an abductor.
Mike Broussard
The role of Mike Broussard is played by Frank Adekunle Macaulay. He is the abducted who hails from New Orleans, Louisiana. He is also frustrated with life, which is indeed surprising to Pius. However, Broussard's job isn't actually as high paying as Pius believes.
"That's more than you'll pay me if I worked for a year!" he shouts To his employer on the phone, shocked at the huge ransom demanded for him. But he is more shocked that his employers are willing to pay that much. This infuriates him and he maintains that the money shouldn't be paid.
Mike's interaction with Pius leads him to certain revelations about Nigerians that he never knew. One of these is the discovery that Pius is a graduate; this surprises him.
He is a major cause of the turn of events in the play and later facilitates the payment of his ransom.
Set, costume and lightning
The set design by Simone Monu was fitting. The stage was bare, save for a lone mattress and chair which well portrayed an impoverished room where someone could be held captive. There was no need for the props on stage to change since all events of the one act take place in a single room. The lightning was also well deployed from the very beginning where Broussard is brought into the room blindfolded.
The Delta story
‘The Cost of Living' is a familiar old story about the Delta but is told from two different perspectives, that of the Nigerian and the foreigner. Pius represents the Nigerian perspective while Broussard represents the other. It is difficult to tell who the victim really is as events take a different turn towards the end of the play. You imagine that the victim is Broussard with the blindfolds on his eyes and the gun pointed at him. Later, you begin to wonder if it isn't Pius that is victimised by the foreigners who take the available jobs and leave him jobless.
Much is revealed about the in the dialogue between both men, which is the most appealing feature of the play. They see life differently but are both frustrated. The Nigerian is frustrated with the economic situation of the country. He complains about the inadequate supply of basic infrastructures thus, "When we have light, it's a miracle." The play also draws the attention of the audience to the Nigerian culture. Examples of this are the mention of ‘respect' and ‘dowry' by Pius.
There is also the suggestion that Nigerians strive to survive the hardship they face by his words to Mike: "Over here, you don't die until you are dead." It is however a short play that ends almost abruptly, just when you're looking forward to another action taking place.

In Yeepa! Solaarin, Idris returns as a rascal
By Akeem Lasisi

Wednesday, 22 Sep 2010

In some of the recent plays in which gangling Kayode Idris acted, he either played the role of a false prophet (Wole Soyinka‘s The Trial of Brother Jero) or a militant (Arnold Udoka‘s Long Walk to a Dream). But when he mounts the stage on Friday at the Muson Centre, Lagos, he will be doing so as a Lagos rascal.
He will not only be the unwanted guest of a pastor with a questionable past, but will also be playing on the innocence of the daughter of the man of ‘God‘. In a swift intrigue, however, dramatic irony will assert itself. He will be mistaken for Tai Solarin, a dramatic cloning of the late social crusader, now appearing as a much dreaded, anti-corruption public complaint commissioner, who a gang of government (council) officials want to fete with whatever he may desire.
This is the nut that high-flying actors and actresses such as Ropo Ewenla (Council Chairman); Toyin Oshinaike (Councilor, Education) Bukola Ogunade (Adiyeloja); Lara Akinsola (Alafowosowopo); Yinka Ayelokun (Doctor); Dejo Adegboyega (Adajo); Bayo Ogundele (Baba Fawomi); and Akeem James (Pastor) are out to crack in the highly hilarious Yeepa, Solaarin n Bo, a Yoruba translation of Femi Osofisan‘s Who is Afraid of Solarin?
Directed by tested Niji Akanni, the play translated by Prof. Dotun Ogundeji, is an offering from the Lagos State chapter of the National Association of Nigerian Theartre Arts Practitioners, in collaboration with Mainframe Productions, Lagos. It is being sponsored by the state government.
Our correspondent watched the rehearsal of the play at the hostel of the National Troupe of Nigeria, in the National Theatre Complex, Surulere, Lagos on Saturday. Apart from the inspiring performances that the actors and actresses were putting up, what is likely to surprise the audience is how most of the members of the cast, who had usually featured in plays rendered in English, are still able to perform comfortably in the stage adaptation, which is being rendered in Yoruba.
”That tells you that if they ask you to go and look for a bastard, you won‘t get any among the cast here,” Ewenla, who has been part of several major plays staged in the country in recent years, says jovially. ”But on a more serious note, I believe that any artiste who cannot conveniently perform in his Mother Tongue is not worth being called one. And don‘t forget that this is a play for our Independence anniversary.”
In their fight to eliminate the real and imaginary Solarin at the beginning of the play, the fraudulent council officials employ various tactics, including the engagement of a herbalist (Fawomi), who should ensure that the crusader never visits their community to look at the books. But a semi-moron in the house, (Polycap, played by Femi Tade), who is asked to bring a drink for the herbalist, becomes their undoing. He served the spiritualist a poisonous liquid. Yet, the corrupt goons are still hopeful that Solarin will never be with them, until two clownish spies arrive with the message that their ‘enemy’ has arrived the pastor‘s house.
But the person they are now ready to pacify at all costs is Isola Oriebora (Idris,the rascal) who is, however, ready to capitalise on their ignorance.

Actors Lara Akinsola, Bukky Ogunnote, Ropo Ewenla and Toyin Oshinaike in the play. Photo courtesy: MUFU ONIFADE
Yeepa! Solaarin Nbo
By Akintayo Abodunrin
The performance justified the hype. Filmmaker, Tunde Kelani and Mufu Onifade, chair, Lagos State chapter of the National Association of Nigerian Theatre Arts Practitioners (NANTAP), producers of ‘Yeepa: Solaarin Nbo’, had assured before it opened that it would not be jejune.
“It is a total performance that is taking theatre back to the basics,” Kelani said of Dotun Ogundeji’s Yoruba translation of Femi Osofisan’s ‘Who is Afraid of Solarin’ staged as part of events organised by the Lagos State Government to mark Nigeria’s 50th Independence anniversary.
As promised by the duo, there was no dull moment at the first public staging of the play at the National Theatre, Iganmu, Lagos on Tuesday, September 28. The full house that saw it obviously enjoyed the play, going by their raucous laughter and ripostes to the lines and antics of the actors on stage.
The opening glee, a two-in-one performance by the Lagos State chapter of the Dance Guild of Nigeria (EKO GOND) and Crown Troupe of Africa, was the appetiser before the audience was served the main course. Dancer, Dayo Liadi and members of Eko GOND who performed 9ice’s ‘Petepete’, decrying the stagnation of Nigeria 50 years after Independence, were outstanding. Their movements were in synch with the mournful tone of the music and Liadi, choreographer of the piece, got the extra applause he deserved when he rolled himself several times over towards the exit as the song ended.
The Crown Troupe of Africa’s performance of the late Hubert Ogunde’s classic, ‘Yoruba Ronu’ was no less interesting. Alabi Ademola, who spotted the trademark white wrapper, cap and ‘shaki’ (fraternal shawl) of the late doyen of Nigerian theatre, gave a good account of himself as Ogunde. Unsurprisingly, members of the audience familiar with the chorus of the reflective song, sang along with the troupe. The themes of the two performances, fittingly, cohere with that of the satirical play on corruption and the tragedy of small minds in big positions in Nigeria.
United by graft
Siaman, played by Ropo Ewenla, bursts in on his colleagues in the local government and informs them that Solaarin, the much feared public complaints commissioner, is set to pay them a visit. The mere mention of Solaarin, a forthright man, leaves the group including Edukesan also known as Force is Force (Toyin Oshinaike); Adajo (Oladejo Adegboyega); Alafowosowopo (Lara Akinsola); Dokita (Yinka Aiyelokun) and Adiyeloja ( Bukky Ogunnote- Ogunade) trembling in fear.
Like most public office holders, their hands are not clean and they dread Solaarin for reasons which become clear as the play progresses.
Edukesan who is in charge of the Education Ministry is a rotten official who does nothing other than embezzle money. Apart from collecting bribes to pervert the course of justice, Adajo (Judge) is also a chronic womaniser who jails the husband of a woman he fancies and turns the courthouse into a poultry. Dokita is a pipe puffing and coughing layabout who has allowed the hospitals to completely run down. The two women in the cabinet, Alafowosowopo and Adiyeloja, are as rotten and immersed in corrupt practices as the men.
Solaarin’s imminent arrival throws them into a quandary and they start looking for ways to avoid the perceived disaster. The half-educated Siaman suggests they burn the records to hide their atrocities and sends his houseboy, Polycap, to fetch Baba Fawomi, an Ifa priest, to rescue them.
Underscoring how deeply corruption has eaten into the moral fabric of the society, Baba Fawomi played by Bayo Ogundele, is also a dupe. He tells the terrified officials that, among other things, Ifa wants five cows, 10 local goats, 10 Hausa goats, 16 fowls and seven yards of white cloth as sacrifice to hide their sins from Solaarin. Any doubts the audience might have about Baba Fawomi’s integrity is soon erased when he does a break dance while singing “ifa ki paro” (Ifa doesn’t lie). He also requests schnapps to enable Ifa speak fluently. Siaman sends Polycap to fetch the drink from his bedroom but the bumbling fool brings toilet cleaner which Baba Fawomi quaffs thirstily before realising he is drinking poison.
The arrival
The satire, which more than adequately reflects the sordid state of affairs in Nigeria, takes an interesting turn when Lemomu and Lamidi - two charlatans who spy for Siaman while pretending to be beggars - return with news that Solaarin is in town. Like the others, the duo don’t render assistance except they are sorted. They disclose that Solaarin is staying in the Pastor’s house; and Siaman heads there. The Pastor, sadly, is also tainted. He not only helps himself to offerings, he also trusts more in Baba Fawomi’s power than the God he professes.
It’s a different scenario in the Pastor’s house where he is seen quarrelling with his daughter, Cecilia, for taking too quickly to the guest (Kayode Idris) from Lagos. Pastor is angry with the guest for finishing the bottle of sacrament wine and taking liberties with his daughter.
The continuously twittering daughter whom the guest affectionately calls ‘Cicily Misa Misa’, however, doesn’t mind the attention. She, in fact, basks in it and strongly defends him against her father’s accusation. The street wise Lagosian wins the Pastor over with a yarn to promulgate a decree that will elevate him into a Bishop.
Pastor becomes afraid when Siaman later tells him his guest is Solaarin. Pastor leaves immediately to see Baba Fawomi lest Solaarin discovers his own atrocities too.
The play climaxes with the rotten officials falling over themselves to offer ‘presents’ to the guest in Pastor’s house so he doesn’t report them in Lagos. But is he really the upright Solaarin, the bane of corrupt officials?
Current theme
Though set in a rural Yoruba town of the 60s and 70s, ‘Yeepa: Solaarin Nbo’ reflects the current Nigerian society where elected officials don’t understand the meaning of service; where contracts are awarded at exorbitant prices but shoddily executed; where nothing works. Siaman, whose full name JDG Gbonmiayelobiojo hints at graft, typifies the half-literate official in a position of power. Playing Siaman, Ropo Ewenla entertained the audience endlessly with his excellent portrayal of the thieving chair. The icing on the cake was his bad pronunciation of words like ‘emergently’; ‘gentlemens and ladies’; ‘incongnito’; ‘tomati puri’ and “o si ro pe o prosper lati wa so fun mi” (You didn’t deem it proper to inform me).
But a tree does not a forest make. Ewenla was good but so were the others. Oshinaike who played Edukesan; Adegboyega, the corrupt judge; Aiyelokun, the doctor and Idris, the scoundrel who pretended to be Solaarin, also handled their roles excellently. Toyin James who played Tolu, Siaman’s mentally retarded wife, and Bunmi Mapelujo, the besotted Cecilia didn’t fail to add to the play. They were completely at home in their comical but significant roles in the fast paced satire directed by Niji Akanni. That careful planning went into the production of ‘Yeepa: Solaarin Nbo’ was also evident in the choice of costumes. The characters were appropriately dressed while the stage was functional. The audience had no cause to complain when the play ended.

Aramotu... The Lift Of Womanhood
Sunday, 20 March 2011 00:00 By ’Lasunkanmi Bolarinwa Sunday Magazine - Arts
HISTORY is nothing if not a compilation of power structure narratives. This means that there is a conscious effort to preserve only that which favours the wielders of political, social and economic powers. This further implies that history is not just what happened. It is what is selectively preserved. This is why when some historical instances get dug up ‘accidentally’, they wear a cloak of shocking impossibility within the definitive knowledge of what we know as history. This is the perspective I always prefer to take when looking at, for instance, the history of gender relations as preserved by a dominant male hegemony, economic or political class. And what brings this perspective to my mind at this moment is the new film, Aramotu. It has the highest nominations in the Africa Movie Award Academy 2011 edition coming up later this month.
The film, directed by NIji Akanni, stars, in the lead, Idiat Sobande as Aramotu, the business woman with an ‘unusual’ interest in an ‘unlikely’ art form — the carving of gelede masks. Her husband, is Akanmu Elefon played by Kayode Odumosu. He is the much ridiculed husband who has to live with the taunt that his wife is the head of his household till he does something rash to assert his ‘authority’. There is Ireti Osayemi-Bakare as Iyalode, whose jealousy of Aramotu’s influence among women, playing out against her own poor leadership ability, provides a basis for conflict on the one hand; and on the other hand is Olookande, played by Ayo Olabiyi, the land grabbing chief whose greed is used as another basis of further exploring the conflict in the film.
There is Gabriel Afolayan as Gbegiro of the gelede cult whose support and connivance with Aramotu for years over the carving of his award winning gelede masks go a long way to support the validity of mutual gender relations in all issues of religious, social and political leanings. There is Tunbosun Odunsi as the ineffectual and greedy leader of the town. There is Peter Fatomilola, your natural babalawo, whose insight and consultations with Orunmila stand him out as the conscience of the town. There is alagba Adebayo Faleti, the carving master and instructor of Aramotu, whose presence in a film sometimes, is all you need to confer a status on it. There is the old woman, iranse Awo Alantakun, messenger of the spider cult, played almost naturally by Mistura Asunmo. There is Toyosi Arigbabuwo in the role of Bamooro, Akanmu Elefon’s Uncle, who clearly does not approve of the independence of mind and action that Aramotu has in her matrimonial home. And then there is Bisi Komolafe as Arike. She is the victimised widow from Ilasun, a neighbouring village with cruel widowhood tradition, who is helped by Aramotu but who turns around to be the one to find favour in her (Aramotu) husband’s bed. With all these, there is no reason not to want to see the film. But that is not all there is to it.
This indeed is an impressive array of cast. But for Bisi Komolafe in the role of Arike and the lead, Idiat Sobande as Aramotu, most, if not all others, have built or are building a pedigree that will stand the test of time in the industry. Outside of that background information however, it is important to now take a look at their performances within the film.
Naturally, this would be a reflection of what they come to the table with, what directions they were given and how they were able to manipulate the directions in view of their personal and artistic interpretations of their roles in agreement with inputs from other sectors of the production such as costume and make up among others.
Classic acts are those of Tubosun Odunsi, Adebayo Faleti, Ayo Olabiyi, Peter Fatomilola, Toyosi Arigbabuwo. They are just there in a class of their own. They are at home with the language. They are comfortable with the world of their play. They were good and almost exceptional in their roles. Thus, they become the yardstick against which one is tempted to measure all other actors.
Gabriel Afolayan as a Gbegiro did not disappoint. He is more seamless in his interpretation than some of the other actors. He conveniently steadies between his natural age and that of Gbegiro while convincingly interacting with Aramotu or any of the elders as the plot demands.
You don’t get this impression of settling into a role effortlessly with Iyalode (Ireti Osayemi-Bakare.) Everything about her, from carriage to language suggests that this is not her world. In a different role and in a different world, I do not doubt her capabilities, but for the weight of the character she bears in this flick, she is one of the weak links.
The character that really stunned me is Arike played by Bisi Komolafe. Her portrayal is quite strong and remarkable. She promises to be some kind of utility player in the industry in the nearest future. Her ability to depict emotions, handle language exceptionally even where Akanmu Elefon, Pa Kasumu retains a tinge of Lagos modernity in his language delivery is a testimony. And what is more? I guess the camera fell in love with her.
Idiat Sobande in the lead did not quite work for me. Again, I think the familiarity with the Yoruba mode that suits the temper of the flick is an issue here. Her overall acting is salvaged because the story line is a strong one and then her character powers the plot. But for her role playing, there is room for improvement. She just was not giving as much back to the camera as the camera gave her, which is one thing you don’t find in the interpretation of Arike.
My heart missed beats each time I have to see the Children of Aramotu in a scene and they have to talk. Against the background of an enduring standard that the production sets to achieve, this is another minus in my estimate. The children’s recitals should have been reviewed for better output. If special attention had been given to coach them, a lot of mileage might have been gained by the whole work.
But then, you cannot have it all can you? There is a whole lot that the film gets right. This you will find in the music as handled by Femi Ogunrounbi and then the overall sound mixing as done by Muslim Ibrahim especially provided you get to see the film in a big cinema environment.
Aramotu’s World
For setting in spatial and temporal terms, we are dealing with a script manifesting in Yorubaland Nigeria of 1909. We are, for most of the time, in the village of Agesi, just at a time when western influence of formal education of the Europeans was coming across and finding fertile soil in the minds of unlettered Africans like Aramotu. We are also dealing with a cultural climate that does not openly accommodate progressive feminine intervention in social engineering but which has a weakness that makes creative and clandestine subversion possible. It is a world of greed and manipulative leaders. It is a world where poor leadership hides itself under the cover of culture and tradition. It is a world in which no error will go unaddressed.
Naturally, there would be challenges in replicating this actual world for the Nigerian film where shortcuts are the operative ‘success’ formula. One could see in Aramotu an effort to move close to the historical period but in terms of architecture and costume, attention to details is sacrificed for convenience. As illustration, I still keep asking myself, how many houses in a 1909 Yoruba village, where education was yet to have firm roots, would be without thatch roofs? I cannot remember seeing many in the film.
However, one cannot but give special kudos to the make-up artiste whose handling of the facials of Olookande and iyalode shows a blend of functionality and aesthetics of the whole film.
Moral Order
Awo Alantakun plays a major role in the reclaiming of an order cruelly slanted to suit personal and selfish motives of human beings. The enthusiasm with which one meets this cult does not pay off when it comes to the need to defend its chosen one in the person of Aramotu. Why, for instance, is it possible for the Iranse Awo Alantakun to appear and disappear at will, breaking physical and spiritual barriers with ease while it is only after Aramotu has been made a victim that strange things happen to alert the people that they did wrong? I guess it is the same reason why Jesus had to submit to crucifixion to make his point about fulfilling the books.
The gelede cult comes out in this flick as another of our traditional institutions that help to restore order in a socially acceptable and peaceful manner. Its ability to use satire to the best public use is a remarkable lesson in social engineering for those who might be of the impression that pre colonial Africa is without its own refined process of administration more creatively worked into her religious and economic credo.
As Nigerians prepare for the 2011 polls, maybe, just maybe the Olookans and Iyalodes in our present political dispensation will allow the Aramotus in our midst air their views in accordance with public wishes or they deal with the whirlwind coming from the North.
Parting Shot
This is a very ambitious film in scope and projection. There is something very distinct about the frames of this film and I mean something that suggests to you that the director and camera crew made conscious effort to determine the texture, the feel of every single frame that goes into their composition. This is a film to fall in love with. If you are looking for a film that shows depth of concept without relying on extraneous editing gymnastics, then this is it.
• Bolarinwa, a popular culture researcher, wrote this piece under the title: Aramotu, One In A Million Flicks