Distracted or Empowered? The Paradox of Escape in Nigerian Media Consumption

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Being Nigerian is perhaps one of the most unique experiences ever. Imagine being born into a country where over 500 languages are spoken, and over 200 cultures exist; with an alleged population of over 200 Million people and a diverse religious base of Christians, Muslims and traditional worshippers all cohabiting. Sounds like a recipe for disaster right? Well, you can argue that in the 63 years since the country gained independence, it has indeed been that - a literal disaster. 63 years marred with genocide, intertribal and religious conflicts, Military Coup D'etat's, multidimensional poverty, several waves of mass immigration, never-ending corruption and many other political and social issues that dominate everyday life.

Despite its numerous problems, a decent number of Nigerians have somehow found a way to survive; be it at home or abroad. As a teenager, the concept of 'Nigerian Exceptionalism' (an idea that posits that Nigerians tend to excel wherever we find ourselves despite the turbulent cards we have been dealt) is one that I saw touted around as a badge of honour for many. Phrases like 'It is well', and 'I cannot come and kill myself' have become deeply ingrained in our lexicon as a default response to the government induced problems we face. Many Nigerians have become numb to the country’s problems and are constantly searching for ways to live life with as little government intervention as possible. However, the reality is that it is damn near impossible. Rich, poor, old or young, Nigeria will always find a way to 'happen' to you.

This leads me to ask the question - Would we as a nation be better off if we decided to kill the numbness and make more deliberate attempts to face issues head-on? Rather than place plasters on our injuries, shouldn't we attempt to treat the root causes of our wounds?

Perhaps the most common and major way Nigerians have developed a means to mask our many problems is through the media. The exponential rise of the Nigerian Music Industry and Nollywood in the last 10 years, in combination with the popularity of social media has provided Nigerians the ultimate escape. Is there a better way to forget Nigeria's problems than gyrating to the latest release from any of the famed big 3 (Davido, Wizkid and Burna Boy) on a night out in Lagos or Abuja filled with hedonistic impulses?

Why let Nigeria affect you when you can immerse yourself into whatever fictional on-screen world that has been carefully created by Kemi Adetiba or Mo Abudu with an ensemble cast that you've seen in all the biggest movies in the last 5 years? Or better still, why dwell on the fact that the country has experienced two recessions under the outgoing administration when you can use your wit to tell jokes about the economic situation and garner millions of impressions, likes and retweets online and ultimately kick start or enhance your career as a Twitter influencer? More specifically the type of influencer that the same politicians you initially berated will make use of to spread their propaganda in the next election cycle. These seem to be the most glaring ways in which we attempt to escape or, in more complex terms, mask the numerous political and social issues that are part and parcel of Nigeria and being a Nigerian.

"Afrobeats to the world and back"

The rise of Nigerian music in the last 10 years has been fueled by a lot of factors. The most prominent of those factors is the Nigerian diaspora. Nigerians are everywhere, literally. It is quite ironic that the success of the Nigerian music industry can be tied to the waves of immigration born out of the government’s failure over several decades. There's that Nigerian exceptionalism again!

The incredible pipeline of talents from Wizkid, Burna Boy, Omah Lay and Fireboy DML have made use of Nigerians who live outside Nigeria as a springboard to their commercial success and worldwide domination. To get direct access to this never-ending pipeline of talent, American and British-owned record labels and distribution services are increasingly setting up shop in Nigeria and Lagos specifically. The goal is to invest in local artists and to export for foreign consumption; so far, their plans seem to be working - Just look at the meteoric rise of the EMPIRE backed artist - Asake in 2022.

The Nigerian consumers living in Nigeria have a much smaller part to play financially because they possess significantly less disposable income in comparison to their counterparts abroad. However, content-wise the music is mostly geared towards Nigerians. The lyrics of the most popular Nigerian songs are typically very far removed from the realities of the people. Consequently, for many, it has become a place of temporary comfort, an escape if you will. The music and accompanying videos are littered with allusions to expensive lifestyles, getaways, drug use/abuse and hedonism. In a sense it is aspirational.

It is important to note that this is not a phenomenon specific to Nigeria as pop music has always served this purpose everywhere. It is however necessary to highlight this within the Nigerian context, particularly because of the deliberate systematic failure of the government, which is not as prevalent in ‘Saner’ climes where pop music has the same tropes. Escapism in itself is not necessarily a bad thing. The danger is that one often becomes too comfortable in it, and for many Nigerians, this has become the case.

 However, within a Nigerian context, it is important to state because of the often deliberate systematic failure of government which is not as prevalent in the 'Saner' climes where pop music has similar tropes.

"Nollywood and streaming"

TV and movies in general have historically acted as a reflection of society. The accuracy of that reflection is often skewed. Hyperbole is central to most of the stories we see. Much like the music industry, the Nigerian film industry has grown in leaps and bounds recently. Foreign companies like Netflix, Amazon Prime and Showmax are currently in the thick of a subtle streaming battle to see who can capture the market. In order to achieve this, they are greenlighting more Nigerian content in collaboration with some of the legacy stakeholders in the industry. However, one common criticism with a lot of the stories is how they have been 'Americanized' (in being told).

It seems that scriptwriters are obsessed with recreating the Hollywood blockbuster experience. Again, this ultimately plays into escaping from our reality. Shouldn't Nigerian movies and series at least try to tell more Nigerian stories without the Americanisms of Hollywood? What are we running away from? We shouldn't be subjected to faux American and British accents every time we turn on Netflix to search for what Nigerian story is being told. Every big-budget action thriller does not have to end with a Dwayne Johnson Esque fighting sequence. It's simply not our reality.

“Social media and Nigerian humour”

When God created Nigerians, for whatever reason, he decided to make us a funny people. Nigerian humour is a thing that you can only fully understand if you have lived through the culture. Before the age of social media, we experienced this humour through our parents, uncles and even teachers in school. Now, every Nigerian and their mother is an online comedian, 'Skit-Maker', political commentator and a potential influencer. Nigerians on the internet are consistently joking our way out of almost every tragic situation. I am of the opinion that this is a trauma response for most. In an attempt to not wallow in the doom and gloom of the situation, we tend to roll out jokes to ease the scenario. The problem here is that, while it makes us lose focus in a way, it stands no chance of fixing any situation.

A political awakening - It's not all doom and gloom

We are currently in what most observers of Nigerian culture would describe as one of the most politically charged eras of this current generation. This political awakening began in October 2020 during the famed ENDSARS protest. For the first time since 1999, Nigerians experienced a truly organic political/social movement. The protests were aimed at dismantling the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) - a rogue division of the police that targeted young people specifically. The movement shook the political establishment, they were not prepared. In typical fashion, on the 20th of October 2020, the government resorted to violence in the hopes that it would permanently quell the will of the people.

Well, their hopes did not last too long. The tail end of 2022 and the whole of 2023 so far has seen a very similar political movement - The ‘Obidient’ movement. Buoyed by the Presidential candidacy of Mr. Peter Obi, young Nigerians once again rallied around a movement they believe will bring social change. Nigerians came out in their numbers on the 25th of February 2023 to vote against the status quo through the re-energized Labour Party. Young Nigerians stood in the rain, under the sun and even held their own against violence all in the hopes of voting for a new Nigeria. I believe I am not alone when I say it felt like a new Nigeria.

The results of the Presidential election may not have gone the way many wanted, but the spirit of those who fought are still very alive. However, the emergence of several new faces in the corridors of power is an indication that it is not business as usual. Those in power are now well aware that ordinary people have realized just how much power they actually have. This is what facing our problems head-on will look like. I am not oblivious to the fact that those who maintain the status quo will not let go so easily. However, like many young Nigerians, I feel like we have waited too long and now is the perfect time to do away with escapism.


Tofarati Olugbemi

Tofarati Olugbemi is a media and culture enthusiast with a keen interest in African music and politics. He’s also a music executive and writer with bylines in several publications of repute

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