y Brutal Awards!

NOW, YOU ALL know that - especially - in the run up to Christmas, manufacturers and businesses throw a lot of money at advert producers to make their products highly desirable, which, Nyame adom (by God‘s grace), would entice the rest of us to part with our hard earned cash. Hopefully!

I jumped on the bandwagon and produced an advert for Domod Non-Stick cookware, (yes, I know I’m advertising) and went out of my way to give the client something different by letting their cookware speak for itself, by showing what it does instead of a grinning woman telling the world how wonderful the pots are.

Now, I'm not known for my modesty, but I thought it was a pretty good advert, even if I say so myself. So, you can imagine how fast my bubble burst when a young man who knew I had shot the advert bemoaned, “Oh, it was bad . . . ah, it was on television and my wife called me . . . hm, it was horrible!” he couldn’t find the words to describe it.

The look I gave him could have stopped a bullet but I had grace enough to ask, “And what else?” As if my ego would have been able to survive another assault of unsavoury words.

“Eh, that’s it . . . oh, it was horrible!” he reinforced. I exited stage left.

I wondered, if my advert was as terrible as he claimed, then what of the others we are bombarded with daily, or did he suddenly develop an affliction that necessitated his having to carry a white stick when those other adverts appeared on television.

As, I said, I’m not known for my modesty but if there were a ‘worst television advert’ award ceremony, I doubt if my advert would make it into the top twenty. My misdemeanours are positively saintly when compared to some of the jaw droppingly bad, awful, malodorous examples probably showing on television right now. Those advert producers deserve to be kneecapped and tarred and feathered IRA style for their crimes.

Only joking!

Late last year, the ‘Gong-Gong’ awards ceremony took place and several advertising agencies were celebrated for the adverts. But, wouldn’t it be great to have an ‘eye Brutal’ advertising awards ceremony? Elsewhere, along with star studded ceremonies that celebrate the best works of an industry, there are also award ceremonies for the worst of an industry.

Now, all in the quest of providing more entertainment to the masses, I think and ‘eye Brutal’ advertising awards ceremony, hosted by a highly witty and sarcastic presenter, is long overdue in Ghana.

Here is an example of a hypothetical top ten list of bad and nonsensical adverts according to the gospel of Saint Alba. I must say, I’m spoilt for choice.

In TENTH position . . . “Benny instant stock powder.’ I just don’t like this advert, especially the version where the chop bar woman talks about people calling her a ‘witch,’ because the customers are coming in droves. It’s a bad choice of word to use as far as I’m concerned. Then there is the version with a woman making a big deal about a plate of dried unappetising looking chicken. That was enough to send me rushing to buy any other stock powder or cube.

In NINTH position . . . ‘Lord Mosquito Coil.’ Which one? You’re probably wondering. In fact, there should be a separate award ceremony just for mosquito coils. However, I talking about the version starring Doris Sackitey. How did this attractive dignified woman manage to be conned into donning that terrible nightie and head scarf for public consumption? I’m sure the payment – no matter how much – she received wasn’t worth it, as her self conscious thumbs up at the end of the advert proved.

In EIGTH position . . . ‘Friendship toothpaste.’ This advert is funny, but, how many people go around broadcasting their halitosis, for crying out loud? And what was that guy doing, opening his front door with a packet of toothpaste conveniently in his pocket to cure his halitosis friend’s problem. Or did the fumes reach him from a distance? ‘Fa friendship ye w’adamfo.’ I love the look on the friend’s face while listening to ‘ol halitosis’s fume blowing woes, and wondered if he had been overcome by the fumes or was trying to force his neurons into untried pathways.

In SEVENTH position . . . ‘Obaapa cooking oil.’ This advert was shot by a very good friend of mine, who, in his defence was not responsible for the script or the choice of artistes. Still, just to tease him a little, I’ve included it in this list just for the, ‘wo be cheky’ payoff line pronounced so badly by another friend, who quickly vanished from the country before the advert started airing. That says a lot!

In SIXTH position . . . “Bellmar Sardines.’ This advert has taken over where, ‘who is she, where is she,’ Princess sardines left off. I don’t know if there is a choice between the two, though I‘d stick my neck out and say that ‘Princess’ was funnier. For a while, I thought this new advert was about how terrible the boy’s father was at karate, until I saw him guzzling kenkey and sardines and setting his son a bad example by talking with his mouth full. What is says about that brand of sardines, well . . . your guess is as good as mine.

In FIFTH position . . . ‘Angle capsules.’ Husband is blasted by wife for non performance, I think. His sad face prompts a friend to ask of someone had died in his house. Barely had the words, ‘my waist’ come out of miserable husband’s mouth, when friend with a sagacious knowing look, proclaims, “I’ve seen the problem,” and suddenly whips out a packet of the marriage saving capsules. Having nothing better to do for the rest of the day, friend then camouflages himself behind a bush and smiles in triumph, giving them a thumbs up as happy wife and husband embrace. There is some nightmarish about that friend.

In FOURTH position . . . ‘Forever Clair.’ Which one? I hear you ask, again. I’m not referring to the one where the friends of the actress, ‘serew serew-ed’ (laughed at) her before her life was altered by the skin toning cream. This award goes to the version in which a woman visits her friend relaxing in a beautiful garden while her husband slaved over the kitchen stove. What had suddenly converted her husband into a modern man? Forever Clair cream, of course. It makes so much sense. Not! Ladies, if you want your husband to become more useful around the house, rush out right now and stock up on the miracle cream that not only lightens and tones your skin, but also gives your spouse a positive personality change. I wonder, if a man used it, would his wife rush out and start fixing the car? Oh, I forgot, ‘sorry girls, some things are for men only!’

In JOINT SECOND position . . . ‘Chan Chan and Mercy hair creams.’ Why are two competing hair cream products using the same actress to sell their wares? It doesn’t matter anyway, as both creams look like they have the same effect. What the helicopter was for, well . . . I’m still trying to figure that one out. Chan Chan, however, is the more entertaining of the two, especially as the actress seemed not to be able to pronounce the name of the cream, preferring the sound of 'Chin Chin.' The dialogue of the two comedians is also great. What is special about the cream, I don’t know, but whatever it is, there is something very obscene sounding about being referred to as a Chan Chan lady.

And finally, the WINNER of the eye Brutal award goes to . . . (drum roll, please) ‘Gino users, happy people.’ Huge applause, followed by, ‘Nkwan aben, nkwan aben, nkwan aben-o! Nkwan aben-o, ma ye bi num! Auntie Sisi, wo Gino nkwan . . .’ Whenever we talk of this great masterpiece, my friend, Reggie Rockstone, always says, “This thing is so abstract! What is it with the two conflicting tunes playing alongside each other?” Though that is not the worst of their crimes.

I always wonder if the producers of this advert have ever heard of lip sinc, because if you watch the mouths of the artistes . . . well, they might as well be speaking Serbo-Croat for all the logic it makes.

The curtains have finally come down on this year’s eye Brutal awards, but I’m in no doubt that the race is already heating up for next year’s awards.

I’m sure I have gained many an enemy with this expose, but believe me; I do it solely in the name of entertainment. Am I forgiven?

WHAT A BRILLIANT title for a telenovela! Now, you know I only like dealing with the pertinent issues of life, therefore, I’ve never been particularly bothered with what this minister or that minister says as I don’t think it makes much impact – change for the better - on the daily drudgery that most of us have to go through.

When I returned back to London from Havana, many of my friends were surprised that I had survived – and enjoyed - living in a communist country, and frequently, I heard horrendous stories of what people were apparently suffering under that regime – though the US embargo didn’t help matters much. Of course, all they said might have been true for those embroiled in the political shenanigans of that country, but for the average Joe Public, the daily mundane issues – the real politics - were what impacted most. This is true the world over.

Now, it may have escaped your notice, but the telenovelas that litter our screens have given many the relief of escapism and the opportunity to forget the countless uncontrollable HIPC issues that govern their daily lives, as they immerse themselves in the love antics and intrigues of those from another time and place.

‘Juana la Virgen,’ entertainingly pronounced as ‘ver-hen,’ has finally ended its run, much to the disapproval of its legions of fans, who could be found discussing and rehashing the very full and interesting roller coaster lives of those inhabiting the world of Juana. The fans feel deceived with how the whole thing climaxed and then flopped like a bad joke, leaving many confused as to what TV3 was trying to do to them.

Not being a television owner - as the boring telenovela of my television and the repairman’s many excuses continues (lasting nearly as long as, if not longer than ‘Cuando Seas Mia,’ the never ending telenovela) – I was only able to catch a snippet here and an episode there, but my best friend religiously kept me abreast of the issues that plagued the lives of Juana, Mauricio, Carlota and co, and I became equally embroiled in the escapist antics. I salivated just like Pavlov’s dogs in anticipation of the next exciting instalment, though not enough – obviously – to park myself in front of a television from Friday to Sunday to experience it first hand.

For a few months after arriving in Ghana, I regularly browsed the Internet to find out what was happening in ‘Coronation Street’ and ‘Eastenders,’ - my favourite soap operas – during my absence, but quickly lost interest when new characters were introduced and I could no longer follow the plots.

One of the many interesting things I’ve notice about Ghanaians is that they don’t like to be surprised. They tend to like hearing all the details of a film before they see it and many times I have been irritated by someone asking to be told what was going to happen next or another who had already seen a film insisting on telling me what was going to happen next, not to say that you need too many neurons to decipher how most African movies would conclude after watching for only five minutes.

Therefore, it should come as no surprise that the love of telenovelas and the interest in knowing what was going to happen before it happened, led some enterprising sparks to produce booklets telling the whole story – information gleaned from the Internet - that could be found in display cases in stationery kiosks across the nation and paraded through every trotro station. And how the fans lapped it up.

That’s how I found out the Rogelio was supposed to be Juana’s father, though that part of the intrigue and the fallout of that shocking fact was never shown.

An empty hole had suddenly materialised in the fans lives, and even though TV3 promised more intrigue and love palaver the following week in ‘The Promise,’ many, including my best friend have not been placated by the promise of ‘the promise.’ Rumbles of discontent could be felt in the area.

This morning I visited my friend, only to arrive in the middle of yet another ‘how can TV3 do this to us’ heated conversation. This was serious business and the fervour with which the women were discussing the unimpressive manner in which ‘Juana la Virgen’ had ended gave me the impression that if they hadn’t had more pressing issues to deal with, they would have organised some sort of wahala demonstration and marched off to TV3 to officially register their disapproval.

Unfortunately, the issues of where the next meal is coming from, how to pay the school fees, the utility bills, the lack of water, the electricity fluctuations, lights on and off, the road works, the mosquitoes, etcetera, etcetera were a reality that no amount of escapism could get them away from.

As the seriousness of the complaints mounted, I tuned out while still managing at the same time to look appropriately concerned to what sounded like a national disaster. I was jerked back to reality when one of the women remarked that instead of the newspapers printing uninteresting stories, they should make a fuss about the TV3 faux pas over the Juana saga. My friend said, ‘Alba, write about this. What TV3 is doing is not good, people are complaining.’ Another interjected, ‘Eh, it’s true-o! The way people like Juana, hwε, people like it pa-pa. Hmmm, love!’ The others teased her and did their version of, ‘solo a tu lado quiero vivir,’ followed by the telling each other of their favourite episodes and what happened. It didn’t seem to matter that they had all watched it and knew what had happened and had probably rehashed it many times before. On their faces I could see that their daily reality worries had been compartmentalised elsewhere as they were transported into the dream world of Juana and Mauricio’s love. Pure escapism.

‘Okay, so what’s the problem,’ I asked. However, not to bore you with too many details, this is the best-abridged reconstruction of what they felt had gone wrong. Those of you who didn’t enter the world of Juana may be a little confused, but please, bear with me.

On Friday’s episode, Ramon Perez was buried. Carlota was packed off to a psychiatric hospital. Desiree was nowhere to be found. Enriqueta had left her job (which she loved) and gone on holiday much to Manolito’s dismay and Juana had found the pictures that would free Mauricio and put Rogelio (the villain) in jail, where he deserved to be.

On Saturday, Juana took the pictures to court leading to Mauricio being freed, Mauricio immediately collapsed and was rushed to hospital and Juana took her baby and suitcase and joined him. Rogelio kidnapped Desiree and threw her into the sea; he immediately got a call (from where? Who knows.) about Juana’s photos incriminating him in Francisco’s death and while trying to make his escape in a boat, was suddenly surrounded by police with pointed gun and the next thing you knew, he was behind bars. Desiree’s body was found washed up on the shore and Manolito met the suddenly reappeared Enriqueta at the beach somewhere.

A stench of deception had many fans wrinkling their noses and the murmurs of discontent increased.

The final episode on Sunday broke the floodgates of complaints. All of a sudden, Juana informed all the major players of her pending wedding to Mauricio – no exciting build up of wedding preparations. Ana Maria was eight months pregnant; Brandi and Enriqueta were three months pregnant (though no explanation of where Enriqueta went and how or why she came back). Manolito, who had only ever fixed an iron during the whole telenovela suddenly had money and had opened up a studio (we don’t know what kind) with Enriqueta helping him (so what had happened to her job at the magazine?). Carlota, freed from the psychiatric hospital apologised to Mauricio for the trouble she had caused and was on her way to Columbia, effectively leaving the way clear for true love to win through. She also did Mauricio the favour of wanting to divorce him.

All of a sudden it was fifty years later – the much awaited marriage and quick inserts of what had happened to everyone (most of them were dead) - and the now geriatric Mauricio and Juana were hobbling along on a beach. What a downer!

Thank you for watching ‘Juana la Virgen,’ followed by an advertisement for the next fantastic telenovela to be aired – ‘The Promise.’

My people were not pleased. The built up climax had been burst without so much as an iota of consideration as to the effect it would have on the legions of fans. There were too many loose ends for comfort. So what happened to Rafaelito? Why wasn’t Rogelio’s downfall played out for all effect? What happened to the magazine around which this whole saga revolved? Why wasn’t it revealed that Rogelio was Juana’s father and Carlota’s sister? And the list of questions went on. The Juana fan club moaned and moaned, wondering for the umpteenth time, why TV3 had done them such a disservice. ‘TV3, you didn’t try, koraa!’

To make matter worse, the fans were further irritated by having to endure a repeat of the ‘un-thirst quenching’ deceptive finale episodes of Juana. Of course, no one forced them to endure the repeats, but hey, we all need a little soap opera in our lives. ‘The promise’ promised did not materialize.

As I said, I didn’t follow the intrigues of Juana’s world closely and so the only guess I could hazard, was that in the rush to get the next telenovela on our screens, Juana had to be butchered – in some circles, it’s called editing - and a whole year of love and intrigue had been hurriedly packed into a couple of episodes just to make way for the new kid on the block.

The fans were not impressed, but still they searched for a silver lining on the cloudy ending of Juana.

As most of these telenovelas are re-aired in the daytime, the fans are hoping that the second time around, time would be found for all the loose end to be tied up properly and the thirst of the fans properly quenched.

Though you may giggle at the seeming banality of the Juana complaints, you have to admit that these telenovelas play an important social role in helping to ease, however superficial, the hardships that many face. The proverbial soothing balm on an aching tooth. After a hard day of not achieving much, some escapist joy – if only for an hour - is brought into the lives of many as they are allowed to temporarily forget their woes and immerse themselves in the fantasy lives of others.

You may think this is a whole load of rubbish, but, as I said earlier, these are some of the pertinent issues of modern life, and these telenovelas – proverbial safety valves - are providing a calming national service and should not be taken so lightly.

DURING THE EVENINGS, my work colleagues in Nigeria love watching good old ‘Cuando Seas Mia,’ the telenovela that refuses to end. I lost interest a long long time ago, but when all the gang rush to gather around the television, I join them just to be around company and though I’m embarrassed to admit it, find myself enjoying the programme. In Ghana we are way ahead of them, so I become centre of attention as they demand to know what is coming next.

I still can’t get over this West African thing of wanting to know the plots of programmes and films before watching it. For me, knowing the plot beforehand takes a lot of the pleasure away, but as they say, ‘different strokes for different folks,’ and I’m constantly badgered to tell them what is going to happen next.

Now, I had managed to fool myself into believing that I knew next to nothing about the telenovela and would humbug it at all given opportunities, but as soon as they ask me questions about what is going to happen next, I suddenly find myself the fount of information and happily rattle off, with ease, the intrigue and drama waiting to be played out in future episodes. Shame on me!

In fact, my ‘Cuando Seas Mia’ knowledge fame has spread and I am now sought by people in the neighbourhood wanting to know future details. One evening, as I narrated future storylines to an enthralled audience at a nearby mobile to mobile communication centre, I took an outer body experience and watched how absurd we all looked, especially me. It was so daft, so I won’t talk about it anymore. Enough said!

So, one day, we were all gathered around the television watching the telenovela, when they cut to a commercial break. The commercial was for a headache tablet, whose name I forget. The star of the commercial was Boy Alinco from the popular programme ‘Papa Ajasco’. To say that the advert is horrendous is an understatement of monumental proportions. It was jaw droppingly bad awful and overstayed its welcome by a good thirty seconds.

The advert starts with Boy Alinco arriving on a huge motorbike, with a babe at the back, clinging on tightly. He screeches to a halt and suddenly grabs his head as if in dire pain, his face contorting as if he were in danger of morphing into some horrible beast from a bad horror movie.

From nowhere, as they do, appears salvation in the form of the man who walks around with a bag full of headache tablets for no reason at all. Boy Alinco theatrically tosses one of the tablets down with the glass of water that also appears from nowhere and before you can say, ‘hey presto,’ the headache has vanish in a puff of smoke. Boy Alinco jumps off the bike – by this time the babe has also vanished – and does a little supposedly comical dance. He thrusts his hand towards camera, in which a handy packet of the wonderful headache tablets is attached and proclaims with an overkill of dramatics that it is the best headache tablet in the world. Of course, he has to repeat the name several times so that the audience don’t forget. The thirty seconds of terror ends with a pack shot and a payoff line which I promptly forget ten seconds after the advert is over.

As we all groaned, my friend Nwanyinma turned to me and said, “I bet you don’t have adverts as terrible as this in Ghana!” Oh, how little she knows.

As usual, like most Nigerians, she is of the impression that Ghana is a paradise; the same way many Ghanaians consider the USA to be a paradise. I had to burst her bubble. Amazingly, she was shocked. “So you have bad adverts in Ghana too?” Yes, we do. Oh yes, we do!

In another article I commented about the Areeba advert currently running on television. You know the one - ‘Some will listen to it on radio; some will watch it on TV, but you could be right there’ – though the focus wasn’t on the production value of the advert. However, after I mailed the article, plus my friend Nwanyinma’s comment, I remembered my ‘εyε Brutal’ article where I hypothesized a top ten worst advert awards list, imagining the merriment of it being aired as a counterpoint to the ‘Gong-Gong’ awards. Wouldn’t it be pant wettingly hilarious if an advert that won a ‘Gong-Gong’ award also won an ‘εyε Brutal’ award? I’d pay to see that!

Thankfully, though I doubt it had anything to do with my comments, I have noted that the majority of the adverts that made my ‘εyε Brutal’ awards list have vanished from our screens. Unfortunately, the die hard advert for Angel Capsules is clinging on with a vengeance, just like the never ending telenovela. You know the one where husband is blasted for non performance and scary friend pops up waving the handy packet of marriage saving tablets, then giving the thumbs up from behind a bush when the tablets do the trick? Yes, that one!

Of course, just because many of those bad adverts have vanished doesn’t mean that they have not been replaced by other equally terrible adverts. But . . . but, I do have to say that each time I come back to Ghana, I notice that the adverts have gone through a positive chance phase and are getting better and better. I particularly love the mobile phone company adverts, though the ‘Tigo’ advert where happy dancers wearing ‘Buzz’ T-shirts transform into happy dancers wearing ‘Tigo’ T-shirts had me confused. It took me a long time to realise that ‘Tigo’ wasn’t the name of a new mobile phone. This goes to show that I was missing the point by at least a mile. As for the ‘Alice’ advert . . . no comment, though at least one of them would make it onto this year’s ‘εyε Brutal’ top ten list, if there were one. But, this is not part two of ‘εyε Brutal.’

How often have you heard Ghanaians utter the statement, “Ghanaians are not serious!” I bet you’ve said it yourself when you find yourself playing an unwanted role in the many absurd situations that you can’t help but trip over each day. Let’s face it, Ghanaians are comical and yet we take ourselves so seriously. The more seriously we take ourselves, the more comical we become and yet we don’t ever see it. Ever. We are great at poking fun at each other but are so unwilling to ever laugh at ourselves. People, we are a funny people and we should celebrate that fact.

As you all know, there is a host of reality programmes surfacing on our television screens. Currently, we are in the phase of singing competition programmes and as you can well imagine, I have been missing ‘Mentor’ – the cross between ‘Idol’ and ‘Big Brother’ - like hell. I especially miss the looks of horror on Rama Brew’s face as contestants crucify songs. Darn, I’m missing out!

Years ago, when I was in England, Chris Tarrant, a television personality used to host a programme to showcase the worst of adverts from around the world. The show paid ₤250.00 (about 450 Cedis) to the sender of each side-splitting advert aired.

Each time I’m accosted by one of those adverts that fall into the ‘very bad’ category, I have flashbacks and wish I knew what I know now. I would have made a whopping load of money.

I wish some smart aleck would jump on this style of bandwagon, or give me the money to do it. After all, isn’t jumping on bandwagons our speciality? I mean, if there is a bandwagon, we will jump on it and if there isn’t one, we will invent one and jump on it.

Look at the beauty pageants and current singing contents devouring airtime, look at ‘Mentor’. But as usual, we only want to look at ‘the best of’ – not to say that I agree that they are the best. How about looking at ‘the worst of’ for a change? There would be no end of entertainment, especially, in these hard times. I mean, there is no end of readily available material to air at least ten awards ceremonies for bad adverts, television programmes and films.

I was watching an awards programme on cable television and tuned in just as Halle Berry was receiving a worst actress award for her role as ‘Cat Woman.’ She threw herself totally into the swing of things and personally went to collect her award, clutching the Oscar she won for best actress in the film ‘Monster’s Ball’ in one hand, and the worst actress award in the other as she thanked the organisers for bestowing on her that honour. That’s the spirit, isn’t it?

Obviously, not everyone has that great sense of humour, but for the viewing audience, seeing the miserable faced others who take themselves seriously should provide a laugh or two.

I know we take ourselves seriously, but we need to lighten up a bit, hence this big hint, once again – I hope someone will listen to me this time – for a ‘Raspberry Awards’ style programme.

Hey, bandwagon hoppers, this is a new bandwagon and it’s begging, pleading, supplicating and waiting to be jumped upon. Please, give it some attention!

ON MY 20 hour bus journey from Accra to Lagos and then Lagos to Abuja, I watched a lot of Nigerian home videos. As I watched, rolled my eyes, gasped and - I must admit - enjoyed the films, I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be fun if someone put together a comprehensive list of the elements needed to make a successful Nigerian home video.’ The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea, then the light bulb pinged into action, ‘Why don’t I do it.’

So, here it is.

1. The main cast always have to be from the small but elite pool of, RMD, Genevieve, Stephanie, Rita Dominic, Patience Ozokwor, Pete Edochie, Emeka Ike, Ramsey Noah, Desmond Elliot, Olu Jacobs, etcetera, etcetera. Always make sure that at least one of the above is a lead in your film.

2. If it is a comedy, the main cast have to be Nkem Owoh, John Okafor or Aki and Pawpaw.

3. Use these criteria when casting – first and foremost, actresses must be glamorous and beautiful, if not then they must have some talent. Glamorous and beautiful is always better, talent is secondary.

4. The best home videos are those that take a week to write, a week to shoot and a week in editing. If you can make the process any shorter, all the better.

5. The plot of a home video has to be very complicated with lots of twists and turns. They don’t need to be believable as long as the audience gasp. Please keep away from simple stories.

6. Pre production – auditions are only to find the few extras (waka pass) that the director or producer wants to have sex with.

7. If you have gone to the effort of writing a script, give the actors their scripts two days before shoot. The ideal situation is to give them their scripts on the day of shooting, which will bring out the genius in them. Under no circumstances should they get their scripts beforehand. It is sacrilege.

8. Directors should always have DGN after their name and should have a nickname, for example, Mr. Prolific, Mr. Fantastic or The Don. The more macho, the better.

9. Mothers-in-law and stepmothers are always wicked and very much acquainted with a juju man.

10. Wicked mother-in-law has to be played by Patience Ozokwor. This role has been especially carved out for her so don’t try to be different by introducing another actress. Apart from the fact that the audience probably won’t like it, it is also a sacred unwritten law by the Igbo Marketers Association that Patience Ozokwor plays all wicked mother-in-law roles.

11. Mother-in-law must visit a juju priest. If she doesn’t go, then the juju priest must send for her and remind her of her role in the movie.

12. Juju priest must always be in the bush, in a place that is hidden and hard for others to find, but not for wicked stepmothers, mothers-in-law and blood money people. They should be able to beat an easy path to his hut.

13. Juju priest must have one of his eyes circled with white or red chalk.

14. Mad people must always scratch themselves and are to be found going through rubbish dumps. Sometimes they sing, but it is not obligatory. There must be at least two children watching the mad person and regularly looking into camera. The same goes for passers by, who will pass, look behind at the mad person and shake their head with pity before moving on. Please make sure they look into camera before they move out of the view. This is a must.

15. Madness must come suddenly. Just when the characters in the film discover that she, meaning the wicked stepmother, evil mother-in-law or husband snatcher, is behind all the evil deeds, the revelation suddenly comes into effect. Either the family or the villagers must be gathered together for the revelation to have the necessary impact. There must always be a pastor present.

16. Once the pastor has prayed and laid hands on the evil person, either he gets zapped by the evil presence or the evil doer starts to confess. Special effects are really important so opt for the pastor to get zapped, so that he can intensify his prayers to overcome the evil. The spirit should descend and of course, the pastor is not surprised, he knew it all along. Once he has laid hands on the evil woman, she should start to confess.

17. The gathered villagers and family members must show absolute shock and horror at the revelation. Make sure you put in a few cutaways to villagers shaking their heads and gasping as the revelation unfolds.

18. Just as the last syllable of confession falls out of her mouth, she must hear the madness call and start to act strangely. Villagers and family members must gasp some more and step back in fear.

19. The mad women must then have a manic grin on her face and look around at everyone, while the pastor continues to pray. She must take off her headscarf and tie it around her waist. A note for make-up – the mad woman’s hair must look as if it hasn’t been combed for weeks. She must run her hands through her hair and mess it up further. Once she has done this, she must dash outside and everyone must follow. Before she dashes out, make sure that the extras, made up predominantly of children, are already on standby outside so that they can follow the moment she rushes out. The family follow last.

20. Evil women go mad, evil men die. It is rare to see an evil man go mad.

21. Always have a scene where the main character passes by and two pretty young ladies (who have nothing to do with the film) start to gossip about the main character and then go their separate ways. If it is a village scene, one of the gossiping young ladies must be carrying water or firewood. These roles are reserved for the girlfriends of the producer or director. They can’t act to save their lives but must be in the movie. Apart from this scene, they should never be seen again in the film. If they must be seen again, then do it at the end of the film where they comment about how strange this world is.

22. The gateman always has to be from the North. He also has to have a common Hausa name like Musa or Adamu.

23. All bad guys and armed robbers must smoke, wear dark glasses, long trench coats and have dodgy American accents.

24. Characters that have just returned from the US must always return as bad boys and bad girls and have no respect for their elders. Like armed robbers, they must smoke, have dodgy accents, wear over exaggerated trashy hip hop clothes and mock African culture as often as possible.

25. Make sure your characters use a limited amount of emotions. The best actors are those who can shout the loudest. There must be several shouting matches. In your shouting matches, make good use of Patience Ozokwor as these types of scenes bring out the very best in her.

26. Apart from shouting, use weeping and wailing. Don’t experiment by giving your characters more than two kinds of emotions to deal with. Shouting, arguing, weeping, wailing and long suffering. Chose from these.

27. If there are any ghosts’ scenes, the ghost must always appear in the corner of a room, nowhere else. Ghosts must always have cotton wool in their noses. If you can’t afford special effects, use a bed sheet.

28. If there are family issues to resolve, it has to be done in the village.

29. Village meetings must always be held under a tree. There must be an obligatory shouting match and a large array of funny looking hats.

30. If the husband dies in the film, the wife must be blamed. The husband’s brother must come and claim all properties and throw the wife and her children out. The children must plot revenge.

31. Women in films have to be either (1) patient, good, Christian and long suffering submissive wives, (2) Wicked stepmothers or mother-in-laws who visit juju men. (3) Prostitutes and money grabbing loose women. (4) Good girls who are duped by bad guys who ruins their lives. (5) Nagging wives. (6) The cause of anything bad that happen to men.

32. If a female character shows any independence, initiative or thinks for herself and doesn’t abide by her family’s plans for her, by the end of the movie she must be punished. Either by death, madness or losing her children. Madness is the preferred option.

33. Actors for specific roles – (1) When a young man is looking for love – Desmond Elliot. (2) Films that need the special talents of nose twitching and eye rolling – Emeka Ike. (3) Bad guy – Segun Arinze. (4) Suave lover – RMD or Ramsey Noah. (5) Big village chief or rich proud man – Pete Edochie. (6) Blood money and occult – Kanayo O. kanayo. (7) Good girl who has been wronged and jilted by lover – Genevieve or Stephanie. (7) Big time prostitute – Eukaria (must also wear big wigs and horrible make-up). (8) Wicked mother-in-law – Patience Ozokwor. (9) Village elders – Emmanuel France, actors with funny overgrown beards or elderly friends of producer or director. (10) If a lot of crying is involved – Nkire Sylvano. (12) Downtrodden male – Tony Umez.

34. Rich families are really rich and live in huge mansions and poor families always live in hovels. There are no in-betweens.

35. In a rich household, all members must dress and be made up as if going to a wedding at all times, even if they are only lounging around at home.

36. The large screen television in the rich household must be on at all times, even if no one is watching it.

37. The film soundtrack should be a synopsis of the film. Give your synopsis to one struggling musician, who will probably sing off key, but that doesn’t matter as long as the message of the storyline is gotten across to the public. Obviously, this spoils the film for those who like surprises, but the ‘soundtrack synopsis’ of the storyline is essential to making the ultimate Nigerian home video.

38. All films must have at least two parts. Part 1 must end when the audience have been patient enough to endure the rubbish and are now starting to enjoy the film. Cut. Then inform the audience of part 2. Add a few enticing clips if you want.

39. The first 20 minutes of part 2 must answer the questions hanging from part 1. Part 2 must be a different story and use the same characters from part 1 just to fool the audience that they are watching the same film. The audience won’t be able to make head or tail of it, but why should you care, they’ve already paid for the video.

40. Scenes that say nothing should be dragged out. Example, someone driving in their car for about 10 minutes going somewhere. Show the different routes they take. Maximize these scenes so that the thin but complicated story is stretched to part 2, which should be a completely different story.

41. Make sure that all characters overact and that the sound quality of the film is bad. A generator must be heard humming in the background at all times and loud street sounds or barking dogs must be allowed to swallow up the banal dialogue.

42. Credits – make sure that the producer’s family is involved in the movie. At least 3 to 4 members must be in the crew. If you don’t believe me, check the credits of the next home video you watch and see for yourself.

43. All movies must end with TO GOD BE THE GLORY, even if the film has done its best to glorify African juju.

44. Last but not least, all self-respecting home video marketing companies must be situated at Ebinpeju Lane, Idumota or Iweka Road, Aba.

So, there you have it. If your next career move is to make a successful Nigerian home video, follow these points closely and you can’t go wrong. Good luck and ‘To God be the Glory.’ Remember, ‘We are nothing but pencil in the hand of the Creator.’