Kannywood

By Habibu Maaruf Abdu

Since its inception, the Hausa film industry, aka Kannywood, has not been cinema-oriented. This is primarily due to the filmmakers’ lack of technology to make cinema-compliant productions and the negative perceptions of the cinemas by the industry’s immediate/target audience (the Muslim Hausa populace). Therefore, video film media (i.e. cassettes and CDs) became the cinema equivalent in Kannywood and remained its sole market. However, the industry later crashed after the scourge of piracy and the emergence of online video-viewing platforms, like Youtube, forced those video film media out of business.

Subsequently, many reputable production companies had to close shop or remain practically inactive. In contrast, some low-class and Chamama (comedy) producers kept on as their films are mostly cheaply made and targeted the masses who are less conscious of modern viewing facilities. It was until the establishment of Filmhouse Cinema at the Kano Shoprite that the film business starts sprouting up again. Big budgeted Kannywood movies, made with state-of-the-art technology, began to overflow the only multiplex cinema.

Also, as people accept and patronise the cinema more, comes a realisation of the need to enhance film shows. Thus, the industry signed a deal with some cinema owners in Kano to show some selected films during the 2018 Eid festival. However, there is a more profound development recently. Platinum, another multiplex cinema for screening Kannywood movies, was opened in Kano.

The emergence of these multiplex cinemas is a welcome development for Kannywood. We all know that it’s on the cinemas that film industries stand. If the mighty Hollywood and Bollywood, for instance, still retain cinemas as the prime platforms for releasing their films, there is no other way for the embattled yet up-and-coming film industry. TV stations and online platforms (Netflix, Amazon Prime, iRokoTV, Northflix, etc.) should be more beneficial for the audience in Diaspora, as proposed by a Kannywood scholar, Muhsin Ibrahim.

In addition, it’s high time we disregarded our anachronistic views against cinemas. These newly opened cinemas are, after all, modern and standard for all and sundry. Nor is it for thugs and whores. There is no smoking and drugs. They are multiplex, with each room having stylishly arranged rows of comfortable padded seats. They are peaceful places to get entertained and have fun in a completely different way from the open-air, single-screens we had before.

Our religious clerics should stop denouncing these cinemas. They should, instead, promote Kannywood in general for more decent and educated people to join the industry. Their bashings, often based on unfounded rumours, will never help matters. Kannywood has come to stay, and it’s better to have them in Kano, a more Islamic state, for the government to regulate their activities than elsewhere.

Finally, I emphasise what Muhsin Ibrahim suggests to our big men: instead of building a state of the art filling stations all around Kano, why don’t they construct cinema(s)? The market is there. They should conduct some feasibility research and invest in this business.

Habibu Maaruf Abdu writes from Kano, Nigeria. He can be reached at habibumaaruf11@gmail.com.

By Bashir Shu’aibu Jammaje

Some people or newspapers apply a form of persuasion that is often used in media to further some agenda, such as a personal, political, or business, by evoking an emotional or obligable response from the audience. That is, ‘propaganda’, in layman’s terms. 

Today, various amounts of modern media can be used to supply propaganda to its intended audience, such as radio, television, films posters, handouts, music, to name a few. It is perplexing to see a well-known media like BBC Hausa doing that. I became overwhelmed when I see their post on the case of Sadiya Haruna and the Kano State Hisbah Corps – and not ‘Board’. Kwankwaso removed them from being a board, some say, to intentionally make them less powerful. Why?

I have never seen Sadiya Haruna in a Kannywood film. I then got to the comment section of the BBC Hausa post and read Abba Almustapha’s words, asking them to give him an example of a single film she has ever appeared in. I gave him a call to confirm if she has ever performed in a Kannywood film. His answer was a definite no. 

I only know Sadiya as a popular online sex counsellor for men and women via her social media pages. And, she makes Wakokin Yabo, ‘songs of praise’ videos along with Hafeez Abdullahi.

Since the birth of Kannywood in the early 1990s, it is purportedly founded as a reaction to the imported foreign films, mainly from India and America, that the society, in general, sees as culturally and religiously unsuitable for them. The filmmakers are being accused of so many bad things that they try a lot to hide other nasty things that happen in our society – and we all know that. I’m not, in any way, standing up for them, just that it is high time some people brought their intense hatred towards Kannywood down. And besides, Islam is a social religion – its very purpose is to intervene in human affairs.

Finally, I think BBC Hausa and others should tell Kannywood they are sorry for coming up with a chance to paint them in a bad light.

Bashir Shu’aibu Jammaje writes from Jammaje Academy. He can be reached via bashjam90@gmail.com.

By Muhammadu Sabiu

Barely thirty hours after The Daily Reality online newspaper published an article on the need to include Kannywood filmmakers in the Netflix Naija written by one of its editors, Muhsin Ibrahim, the streaming service has finally considered the adjuration made in the said article.

Muhsin Ibrahim, a PhD student at the University of Cologne, Germany and a teacher at the same institution, wrote an article titled “Dear Netflix Naija, there are films and filmmakers in northern Nigeria.” It was a reminder to the streaming service that Nigeria is of different cultures and religions. Therefore, according to him, it should not be treated in such a way that only films from a section of the country would be included in the streaming giant.

“Nigeria’s diversity cuts across many things, chiefly cultures, ethnicities, religions and regions. […] Due to these complexities, the country is a house to two significant film industries—Kannywood and Nollywood—with many smaller ones operating under these brands,” Ibrahim wrote.

Making his plea on behalf of the Kannywood filmmakers, the PhD candidate added, “I am not an agent of division, not at all. I am, instead, an advocate of fairness and inclusion of all, regardless of their culture, ethnicity, region, religion, among other diversities. Therefore, northern Nigerian filmmakers and their films should equally be aboard the ship Netflix captains in Nigeria.”

What were Kannywood filmmakers’ reactions?

A few hours after this newspaper published the article, Falalu A. Dorayi, a famous Kannywood member, took the entire article’s screenshots to his Instagram account, with the caption“A very good write up! Thank you very much for speaking on our behalf. @muhsin2008 Ibrahim”. The screenshots generated about 2.3k likes and over a hundred comments.

Also, Ali Nuhu, another prominent member of the Kannywood film industry, posted screenshots of the whole article with the same caption, under which several other members of the industry commented, including this:

@rahamasadau: “Hmmm, I wish I can [sic] add to this article…🤔👀”.

Acceptance of the Adjuration by Netflix Naija

Confirming the acceptance of the adjuration made in the article, Mr Ibrahim wrote on Facebook, “Sequel to the publication of my article on The Daily Reality last Saturday, Netflix Naija contacted a Kannywood director whose work they ignored for nearly a year. Thus, we shall soon watch a Kannywood production on Netflix. Nothing is more delightful to a budding writer.

“My informant, a Kannywood heavyweight, expressed his happiness, adding that “see the impact of writing”! He doesn’t know that I am probably happier. The Daily Reality is here to make a difference.

“May Allah help us, bring back peace to our region and country at large, amin.”

Kannywood, a predominantly Hausa-Muslim, Kano-based film industry, produces movies mainly in the Hausa language. The cinema has been facing tough challenges that revolve around its members’ handling of religion, culture and the likes.

By Muhsin Ibrahim

Nigeria’s diversity cuts across many things, chiefly cultures, ethnicities, religions and regions. Although several commentators consider the northern part more Islamic and the southern one more Christian, Muslims and Christians, followers of traditional belief systems and non-religious folks may be seen everywhere. Due to these complexities, the country is home to two significant film industries – Kannywood and Nollywood – with many smaller ones operating under these brands.

Kannywood, the name given to the “local” Hausa film industry with Kano State as its epicentre, is a distinct and autonomous film industry in northern Nigeria. Nollywood has its roots in the South, has mainly Christianity and Western-influenced motifs as themes and produces films primarily in English or other southern Nigerian languages. For Kannywood, however, Islam is arguably the trademark, and the East remains their vital source of influence and inspiration. Nonetheless, many people and institutions, including Netflix, see Nollywood as “the default” Nigerian film industry.

Lumping Kannywood and Nollywood or seeing the former as merely a Hausa branch of the latter is problematic. Hence, a prominent Kannywood scholar, Carmen McCain, points out that “In most scholarly discussions of Nollywood, Hausa films are footnoted as an ‘other’ to Nollywood.” The implication of this is enormous. It, among other things, leads audiences and potential investors like Netflix into failing to see and understand Kannywood films in their peculiar socio-cultural and religious contexts. But, yes, Kannywood operates differently from and is independent of Nollywood.

On the one hand, Nollywood, now the second-biggest film industry globally, succeeds because it faces little or no challenge from its audience or any censorship board. On the other hand, despite being arguably older than Nollywood, Kannywood struggles a lot. Kannywood was inaugurated in 1990 with a film entitled Turmin Danya(dir. Salisu Galadanci). Two years later, in 1992, Living in Bondage (dir. Chris Obi Rapu) began what became known as Nollywood.

Subsequently, the editor of Tauraruwamagazine, Sunusi Shehu, coined the name ‘Kanywood’ [with a single “n” before several authors later on added the second “n”, the version that is more recognised globally today]. It appeared in the magazine’s August 1999 issue. “Nollywood” appeared for the first time in a New York Timesarticle titled “Step aside, Los Angeles and Bombay, for Nollywood” by Norimitsu Onishi in September 2002. The Nigerian newspaper, The Guardian, republished the article a few days later. The rest, they say, is history.

Moreover, the “local” Hausa language has more users than any other West African language. The possible shortage of professionals in Kannywood is due to a lack of support from the government, other stakeholders, and investors. Despite all these and more challenges, the film industry stands on its feet, and I believe a little more push will catapult it to the promised land.

Delineating the glaring yet ignored differences between Kannywood and Nollywood is only part of the aim here. The primary objective is to remind Netflix Naija that for “Africans [to] take charge of African stories”, the message its parent Netflix emphasised when launching the local franchise, all Africans – and, of course, all Nigerians – deserve to be carried along.

Nigeria’s entertainment industry is a lot like India’s. Mumbai-originated Bollywood does not represent all films produced in the vast country. Netflix India understands this truth early on and thus accommodates that diversity so beautifully in its rich library collection of Indian films. There are arguably several exciting films from all India’s nooks and crannies on Netflix today. We earnestly wish the same to happen in Nigeria.

Of course, Netflix Naija may argue that Kannywood’s films are generally below their standard. No one can dispute that adequately. However, there are exceptions. Thus, they should get in touch with those exceptional productions. An anonymous top-notch Kannywood director told me some producers have already approached Netflix Naija. Quite regrettably, they have been, at best, told to go and fix this and that, which they did and, at worst, summarily snubbed.

Another way to embrace all is via commissioning movies. Netflix Naija can engage Kannywood filmmakers to see if it is possible to sponsor films or series. Northern Nigeria is rich with stories, perhaps more than other parts of Nigeria, thanks to its fantastic mixture and, admittedly, unfortunate incidents like the Boko Haram insurgency. The famous films Voiceless and The Milk Maid are only two examples based on a single event – Boko Haram’s abduction of Chibok schoolchildren in the northeast. Netflix can and should have originals from northern Nigeria. I bet that will be a commercial success.

Filming in the North is different from telling Northern stories. Thus, having films set in that region is not the same as having filmmakers from the area telling their stories. I am not an agent of division, not at all. Instead, I advocate fairness and inclusion of all, regardless of their culture, ethnicity, region, or religion, among other diversities. Therefore, northern Nigerian filmmakers and their films should equally be aboard the ship Netflix captains in Nigeria.

Muhsin Ibrahim is a PhD student and staff at the University of Cologne, Germany. He can be reached via muhsin2008@gmail.com.

By India Biró

How far would you go in order to be forgiven? Would you send a text message? A letter? Flowers, or a gift? Would you track down the person you hurt and beg them to forgive you, even if it required a two-month journey?

For Zakariyya, the hero of Abubakar Shehu’s Hausa-language film Risala, his desire to be forgiven for eating fruit from a stranger’s farm sends him on a week-long journey on foot to the village of Baihan to ask the farm’s owner to absolve him of his sin. Throughout this journey, he encounters unsavoury characters, is repeatedly beaten up, almost dies of thirst, finds a fortune and loses it, and ultimately meets the love of his life.

Zakariyya is the perfect hero: modest, handsome, determined, faithful, never straying from his morals. Even when he is accused of being a robber, beaten, and insulted by the village’s men, he remains calm and only defends himself by explaining the misunderstanding. When they realize their mistake, he simply forgives them and moves on without holding a grudge. His character seems so genuinely good; it makes you wonder if you would admire him or be annoyed by his constant perfection if you knew him in real life. Surely there must be something that makes him angry or tempts him to sin? However, his strength of character throughout the movie is reminiscent of noble mythical or legendary characters known to Western audiences, such as Robin Hood. This is further reinforced by the pre-colonial setting when modern amenities were not yet present in Nigeria.

When Zakariyya finally encounters the farm’s owner, he appears unwilling to forgive him at first. Yet, because Zakariyya is such a noble person, he senses the opportunity to marry off his daughter to a worthy man. So he proposes to Zakariyya that he marry his ugly, deformed daughter Ummulkhair (sometimes also referred to as Ummu Salma). Zakariya, being the modest man he is, immediately accepts Ummulkhair and promises to treat her well. However, when we see her, she turns out to be exceptionally beautiful.

We learn that the farm’s owner in Baihan has been looking for a suitable husband for his lovely daughter for quite some time, yet every man he has encountered was too enamoured with her beauty, which he considers superficial. Thus, to test Zakariyya’s good faith, he tells him his potential wife is horrendously ugly. The fact that Zakariyya still vows to marry her proves he is not a superficial man and that he is truly worthy of marrying her. In the end, he is rewarded for all his troubles with a beautiful wife. Zakariyya questioning his wife’s integrity by asking her about her relationship with her parents proves he is still not superficial and really is interested in marrying a righteous woman, not just an attractive one.

The fact that Ummulkhair’s beauty is treated as a detriment to her father, resulting in her spending most of her life indoors, as well as her treatment as a prize or commodity for a man (especially her virginity), is unsettling to feminist viewers, yet reminiscent of Western fairy-tales such as Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Snow White, etc., as well as being very fitting for a story set several centuries ago. While Zakariyya’s “test” of his wife before accepting her reeks of sexism, it is probably a very realistic portrayal of the treatment women faced (and continue to face) in many societies.

Another theory about Ummulkhair with regards to the many fairy-tale and magic-like elements in Risala is that she is, in fact, not conventionally attractive and that it is Zakariyya’s reward for being a good man that she appears beautiful to him. This theory can be discounted because, after revealing herself to him, Ummulkhair tells Zakariyya she was barred from leaving the house because of her beauty, so apparently, she really is beautiful and not ugly. However, disregarding this, one could come up with a hypothesis:

Before unveiling her to see her for the first time, Zakariyya says, “everything created by God is beautiful. Only people make distinctions between the good and the ugly.” Perhaps, Ummulkhair is somehow cursed with an ugly outer appearance, and Zakariyya’s words acted as a spell that lifted the curse and made her appear beautiful to only him. So, because his heart is pure and he has good intentions, he sees a beautiful face instead of an “odd-looking” one and instead of a hunchback, he sees a striking woman. Because he is deserving, he sees the beauty in her while others do not. Had he approached the situation differently, perhaps thinking, “poor me, to be stuck with an unattractive bride”, she would have appeared ugly to him.

Ultimately, regardless of the specifics of Zakariyya’s marriage, the message is clear: Those who are good-hearted and seek forgiveness for their sins will be rewarded for it. As such, Risala is a very wholesome film worth watching for its retro charm reminiscent of fairy tale films or Bible stories and its interesting storyline. In addition, the acting and editing manage to steadily capture the viewer’s attention, something unfortunately not always a given in Kannywood cinema as it is still a developing industry and production quality is often low.

While I consider Risala to be one of the better Hausa films I have seen, do not expect a lot of character development since Zakariyya is a perfect hero right from the start and other, more sinister characters like the robber Gambo die before they get a proper chance at reform. There is also some slightly unnecessary bloodshed coupled with overly dramatic and unrealistic special effects reminiscent of low-budget Japanese anime. On the other hand, the music may not be to everyone’s taste (especially Western audiences), but I found it rather pleasant and meshed well with the action rather than distracting the viewer. Subtitles for the final song would have been helpful for non-Hausa speakers, but the song was still fascinating and enjoyable, especially the dancing and colourful Hausa clothing. Overall, while the film could have easily been condensed into one part instead of two, the storyline is gripping, and the acting is done well. I would recommend this film to anyone new to Kannywood cinema.

India Biró is a student at the Institute of African Studies and Egyptology, University of Cologne. She can be reached via ibiro@smail.uni-koeln.de.