Hausa Films

Northern Nigeria’s Hausa film industry, Kannywood, has been at the centre of brainstorming discussions over the years. One of the most interesting is why film consumers are attracted to the industry and otherwise. So often, the analysis of such magnitude is drawn concerning the industry’s foreign and domestic rivals because they provide an alternative to what the industry produces, which directly affects its local market. And like in any other industrial conglomerate, the sustainable conduct and development of Kannywood as an industry thrive on the quality, affordability and viability of its products.

As the so-called king of the arrangement, it’s impossible to conquer any market without exploring the psychological drivers of consumer’s preferences. That said, the primary concern of the teeming film consumers who boycott Kannywood movies revolves around the appeal, quality and uniqueness of storylines and whether it connects with the inner cravings of a modern watcher. A film consumer demands an illusion, one that not only tells him “this is the movie he wants to watch” but also if “it’s the one he should be watching”. An illusion that challenges his status quo creates a reception for the new order and paves the way for a route to escapism. Arguably, many people watch films to escape from their core reality. This occurs either by consuming movies that aim to rediscover an old order. Such order seeks to reflect on the current order or ones that wish to rewrite the order itself in the forms of fantasy movies, futuristic science-fiction movies, historical fiction and nonfiction movies, among others.

In the case of Kannywood, it has done reasonably well in producing movies that reflect greatly on the dynamics of the current order. But then that’s an order of which its potential consumers happen to be physically part. In which case, most of the content would appear familiar and cheap, which will bore the consumers and hand them the warranty to look elsewhere. Meanwhile, Kannywood competitors have religiously developed the culture of challenging the essence of everything a watcher stands for. This makes them more viable, even if more costly than Kannywood, because they satisfy consumer’s utility.

Interestingly, Kannywood’s content has been profiled as the one that agrees with its watchers’ demand. This is indifferent to saying the industry produces only the content which its watchers want to consume. But if that’s any good, why has the industry been economically stagnating and remain vulnerable to its rivals’ invasion? To be fair, Kannywood and its competitors aren’t of the same financial muscle. This plays a vital role in the distinction of their products. However, it is equally valid to mention that all other industries rivalling Kannywood have, at some point, been where it is today. So the most crucial point is how did they move forward?

Revenue, which is the excuse of Kannywood in comparison to its rivals, in the context of production, is a bi-product of the initial measures that a producer put in place to ensure the success of his product. That’s to say, as far as the producer has the initial capital, what happens next is dependent on him. And start-up capital is hardly the problem of Kannywood producers. The actual problem is recouping the expenses and profiting from the venture.

If indeed, Kannywood produces only the films that’ll appeal to its watchers for fear of losing revenue, then it’s vivid that the industry perceives the film market as a consumer’s market rather than a producer’s market. This is perhaps why they produce movies that watchers ‘want rather than the ones the watchers’ think they want. And there’s a big difference between the two. Failure to dissect this difference creates a dilemma that’s so sensitive; it makes or breaks the possibility of any market dominance.

For instance, the romantic, singing and dancing genres that Kannywood produce at a more regular rate is what Hausa watchers want. But the more adventurous and dynamic content being delivered in other film industries are what Hausa watchers think they want – hence they rush to. And the ability to deviate the latter from the former ensures whether a consumer illusion is created or not. Illusion is vital in production because it makes people consume something believing that it’ll satisfy their utility when it won’t. But, instead, it’ll only make them crave for more. And the more is being craved, the better is the chance of getting addicted, and that’s the trap of every capitalist producer.

Hollywood and Bollywood industries come from well-equipped capitalist societies where consumer psychology is conquered. Down there, it’s a producer’s market. Hence, the curve of their revenue never stops rising. Their movies are regularly subjected to sequels and prequels, defending what the producer wants. In the build-up to the preface of his critically acclaimed novel, “The Godfather”, the great author Mario Puzo confessed that a producer’s girlfriend could demand a movie scene to be filtered out. And the consumers would watch nonetheless. In my opinion, there’s no bigger evidence of control. Which greatly unlocks creativity and unhindered filmmaking viscosity.

Kannywood, on the contrary, produces what annihilates the utility of the consumer instead of what’ll make him crave more. Capitalist experts assert that if a consumer gets what he asks for, he’ll be satisfied. And if he gets satisfied, he’ll not need the product again. That’s why a wise producer never allows consumers to ask for products. Instead, he creates the product questions for them. And in turn, answer the questions in a way that’ll make them even more curious. Kannywood does the opposite. Producers obeying the trend of narrowly imaginative consumers is why the watchers don’t find the films as unique as the foreign ones, which is also why the industry is painfully stagnating.

To clear doubts, how the dubbed versions of foreign movies are being consumed at an equal if not higher rate than Kannywood movies in its native domain should erase any iota of doubt on film market being producer’s market rather than consumer’s. For if it was consumer’s, who researched the interest of a villager in Kano before making a movie in Hyderabad, India, that enables him to watch the film with keen interest?

In the end, movie producers need to conquer the fear of losing the market. The film market is a producer’s market contrary to their belief. Agreeing with that would be a new phase for creative filmmaking. They should sharpen and unlock their imagination to produce what watchers would marvel at. Hausa-Fulani society is rich with contents that can create consumer illusion—ranging from history, culture, geography, economy, politics, anthropology, etc.

MA Iliasu writes from Kano State. He can be reached through his email: muhada102@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.