RATING: 4/5
Growing up in Lagos, I always found the Christmas holiday season a curious time. The reality of the dry season harmattan heat that marked my Decembers was a far cry from the crunchy white snow I was used to seeing in films and Christmas – themed special episodes of all the TV series I spent my time watching. As a youngster, I had the privilege of meeting Santa Claus, and all I could think about was how unbearably hot he must have been in his outfit. And that he wasn’t Black.
I suppose that’s the biggest difference, climate notwithstanding, ie that one generally shouldn’t expect a White Christmas in Nigeria on any level. Our culture is different, our history is different, our traditions are different. Yet we are still a nation with a deep attachment to Christianity, and a nation where family and community are arguably more important than in many of the nations making and being represented in the classic Christmas films we watch.
I’ve never stopped and thought to myself that this was a significant issue, or that there was any need for a closer-to-home representation of the Christmas season. However, in 2021 Netflix received its first Nigerian Christmas film, very directly titled A Naija Christmas, directed by the excellent Kunle Afolayan. Having struck a deal with the streaming giant to direct not one but three feature films to premiere via the platform, Afolayan used this opportunity to break new ground – a film the likes of which most of us have never seen or expected.
Afolayan delivers exactly as advertised; the film is an authentic Nigerian Christmas story. Set exclusively in Lagos, the film makes extensive use of the variety of settings and aesthetics one can expect to find in the most populous city in Africa – Lagos. With many an aerial shot of different parts of the city, I was treated to seeing the route to my old secondary school from the sky and views of the city lights by night I’ve only ever seen from planes. Scenes took characters from swanky modern advertising offices and recording studios to the regal and historied big houses of Ikoyi, to the slums of Mushin, and even the very same i-Fitness Gym branch that I train at when I’m home. Not only does the film do its setting justice by using this variety aesthetically, but it also uses the settings as a narrative tool.
Without spoiling anything for you, I can at least tell you that the film revolves around three brothers and the misadventures of their love lives as they seek to get married before Christmas, having been told by their mother that the quickest way to inherit the family’s land and house in Ikoyi is to get married. Cue the ensuing festive madness.
The three brothers’ stories and motivations are unique to each brother but Afolayan manages to merge them seamlessly and with humour. The characters are well delineated and it is easy to relate to each brother. The visually distinct settings give the audience a shorthand for whose story is being focussed on as the film jumps back and forth between individual storylines – much like a play with different sets. Furthermore, this ‘separate-train- track- same- train station’ style of narrative reminds me of other Christmas stories that focus on families whose individual misadventures teach them the importance of coming together.
I found myself thoroughly invested in the story of every brother. Admittedly, Aboyami Alvin’s Chike, the youngest of the three brothers, draws the short straw for screentime, but his personal story never seems lazy and his performance is strong and convincing – as is that of all the others. Yet it’s clear that there simply wasn’t room for his story to develop in the same way as his brothers’ stories could, leaving him as the only character, by the film’s ending, whose arc felt rushed and not entirely earned (you’ll understand when you watch the film).
By contrast, the narratives of the other two brothers and those of the supporting characters, particularly that of Ugo’s love interest Ajike, is significant, real, and earned. The film is not a thoughtless or cheap comedy – there are meaningful emotional stakes, genuine twists, and strong performances across the cast. Altogether A Naija Christmas is a fun, authentic, feel-good Christmas movie. There is barely a reference to the West or a White Christmas; refreshingly, Afolayan makes no pretensions to a Western equivalent of Christmas.
This is a film that is confident, authentic and self-aware, a particularly effective combination when aimed at a diasporic audience of Nigerians gathered around the TV at Christmas. A Naija Christmas neither stereotypes nor pokes fun at the big personalities of Nigerian culture, and it makes no attempt to dumb down or reduce the scale of our culture for ease of consumption by a non-Nigerian audience.
I commend Kunle Afolayan, and I’m glad a film as valuable and brave as A Naija Christmas is also genuinely just immense fun.
