As Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie would put it, we are often guilty of falling into the danger of a single story – forgetting that one person can hold two opposing traits at the same time. A cheating husband, for instance, may still be a loving and responsible father. And because we rarely examine our own flaws, when a relationship or marriage falls apart, one person often takes the blame. But it always takes two to tango.
This is exactly what plays out in the family at the centre of Ajosepo. Dapo and Jide find themselves trapped between their manipulative mother (Ronke Oshodi Oke) and their father (Yemi Solade), whose marriage has already collapsed. Because of that upbringing, Dapo grows up clinging to only one version of his father– the cheating husband – without acknowledging the other side: the kind man, the supportive partner, the father who genuinely loved his family.
As Dapo (Mike Afolarin) and Tani (Tomike Adeoye) prepare for their wedding, tradition demands, or as Tani’s father (Muyiwa Ademola) would like, that the groom’s family spend the day and night before the ceremony in the bride’s home. That single arrangement ignites a chain of events that pushes the film fully into comedy and drags out secrets everyone hoped would remain buried. At the family house, Dapo’s father bumps into an old flame (Bisola Aiyeola), now married to Tani’s uncle. They decide to reignite things “just once more,” only to be struck by the infamous magun, the traditional charm meant to punish infidelity. Instantly, they become stuck together, and literally, like a bad glue.
For a good portion of the film, the story leans heavily into this caricature, dancing around the subject of magun instead of truly engaging with it. Some scenes drift into cringy territory, but you keep watching anyway. The film occasionally hints at deeper questions around the charm and its cultural weight, but it never fully follows through.
ALSO READ: Movie Review: The Herd is a Gripping Portrayal of Nigeria’s Banditry and Kidnapping Epidemic
The bigger issue, however, is that the film takes too long to become the comedy it is clearly aiming for. The opening scenes drags, repeating points we already understand and stretching them across loops that have little humour in them. The pacing stumbles, the structure wanders, and the dialogue tries too hard for moments that rarely land. Instead of building towards something, the film keeps circling around itself, delaying the point where the story actually becomes fun to watch.
After the chaos of the magun incident, the film suddenly tries to pack every theme imaginable into a single night: old wounds, generational bitterness, religion, masculinity, and the messy politics that come with being part of a Nigerian family. It bites off more than it can chew, and the weight shows. Characters are forced into multiple emotional breakthroughs at once, families try to resolve years of dysfunction before sunrise, and the couple who should be the centre of the story still has a wedding to face the next morning. You can only wish them luck.
The performances don’t all land either. Tomike Adeoye struggles the most, and the camera exposes it clearly. I think she hasn’t grown into the craft yet, and it shows in the stiffness of her delivery, the lack of chemistry with Mike Afolarin, and her difficulty conveying emotional depth. Even when she is quiet, her presence often feels out of tune with the energy around her. I found myself bracing ahead of her lines because something in her performance always felt slightly off-beat.
Many of the actors threw themselves into the chaos with impressive commitment. The veterans, including Ronke Oshodi-Oke, Yemi Solade, Muyiwa Ademola, Mercy Aigbe, and Ibrahim ‘Itele’ Yekini, carried the weight of experience. At the same time, the younger faces Bisola Aiyeola, Deyemi Okanlawon, Kanaga Jr, Lizzy Jay, and Bolaji Ogunmola brought the energy, comedy, and drama needed to keep the story alive.
Among them, the more seasoned actors manage to rise above the thin writing. They inject life into scenes that could have fallen flat and work hard to elevate the material. Yemi Solade stands out in particular, balancing humour with depth, and his chemistry with Timini Egbuson adds tension, warmth, and genuinely funny moments. Their interactions are a glimpse of what Ajosepo might have been if the story had been sharper and more focused.
Surprisingly, the emotional backbone of the film becomes the tension between the brothers, not the romance that should anchor the story. Dapo is the ever-loyal son who suffers quietly because “my mummy said…,” while Jide carries years of unspoken hurt inflicted by the same woman. When the movie slows down long enough to lean into this fragile bond, it finally finds something honest.
And in true Nollywood fashion, after dragging us through all kinds of emotional and spiritual battles, everything is wrapped up neatly with a bright, glamorous wedding. A fairy-tale ending, whether or not the journey deserved one.
Ajosepo is currently streaming on EbonyLife On Plus. Yes, yet another streaming platform.
