In Deja’s Scream, Deja (Oluwatobi Fakos), 17, is raised in a home that believes men should not cry, as it is a sign of weakness and vulnerability, and men cannot afford to be vulnerable. Deja’s Mum (Toyin Alausa) and his father continually ring this axiom – that men don’t cry – into Deja’s ears every day. They taught him that he is expected to bottle his emotions, hide his fears, refuse to share his vulnerabilities, and own his life as a tough young boy.
As a result, Deja hides his fears, refuses to cry, or struggles to hold back his tears. When he’s overwhelmed with life, even at a young age, or bullied by men on the streets, his mom shuts him up from expressing his fears. He must confront his fears to become a better husband and father. Rather than receiving comfort, he is encouraged to endure in silence. The film immediately establishes how dangerous such teachings can be, particularly for a child who is still learning how to understand and process his emotions.
The story takes a darker turn when his mother’s sister, Aunty Rolayo (Bimbo Adebayo), comes to stay with the family. Rolayo is not merely an unpleasant visitor; she becomes the source of repeated abuse under the very roof that should protect Deja. The tragedy of Deja’s situation is not only that he is being abused but also that he has nowhere to turn. Several times, he attempts to communicate his pain and seek help, but his mother shuts him down before he can fully express himself. The same lesson that was meant to make him “strong” effectively silences him.
The film carefully demonstrates how harmful cultural expectations surrounding masculinity can become when they prevent boys from speaking about their suffering. Deja’s silence is not natural; it is learned. It is a survival mechanism shaped by years of conditioning. Every moment he refuses to speak, every tear he struggles to suppress, and every fear he buries deep inside reflects the consequences of a society that often expects boys to endure pain quietly.
Outside the home, Deja attends a tutorial centre where he meets Ifeoluwa (Omobolanle Adigun), arguably the only person who genuinely notices that something is wrong. Ifeoluwa repeatedly tries to create a safe space for him to open up. She asks questions, offers friendship, and encourages honesty. Yet Deja remains trapped within the emotional prison built around him since childhood. He wants to speak, but years of being told that vulnerability is weakness prevent him from doing so.
One of the film’s greatest strengths lies in its willingness to address an issue that is rarely discussed in Nigerian cinema: the abuse of boys and the emotional neglect that often accompanies it. Conversations about abuse frequently focus on girls, which is understandable given the prevalence of such experiences. However, Deja’s Scream reminds viewers that boys can also be victims and that their suffering often goes unnoticed because society assumes they should be able to endure anything.
Oluwatobi Fakos delivers a compelling performance as Deja. Much of the character’s pain is communicated through silence rather than dialogue. His facial expressions, body language, and hesitant attempts to communicate reveal a young boy constantly battling emotions he has been taught to suppress. It is a performance that relies heavily on restraint, making his internal struggles believable and emotionally engaging.
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Bimbo Adebayo’s portrayal of Aunty Rolayo is equally significant because she represents a type of abuse that often hides behind familiarity and trust. Her presence creates a sense of discomfort that lingers throughout the film. Toyin Alausa, as Deja’s mother, also delivers a performance that highlights how harmful beliefs can be passed down from one generation to the next. She is not presented as a villain in the conventional sense; rather, she embodies a mindset that genuinely believes emotional suppression is a virtue.
Beyond its story, Deja’s Scream succeeds as a social commentary on masculinity, parenting, and mental health. The film raises important questions: What happens when boys are taught never to cry? What happens when vulnerability is mistaken for weakness? How many children suffer in silence because they fear they will not be believed? These questions form the emotional core of the story and remain with the viewer long after the film ends.
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What makes Deja’s Scream particularly resonant is that it does not merely focus on abuse; it examines the silence that allows abuse to continue. The scream in the title is not necessarily a loud cry for help. It is the silent scream of a boy whose pain remains unheard because he has been conditioned to hide it. The film suggests that true strength is not found in suppressing emotions but in acknowledging them and seeking help when necessary.
Ultimately, Deja’s Scream is a thought-provoking drama about childhood trauma, emotional repression, and the consequences of toxic ideas about masculinity. Through Deja’s journey, the film challenges deeply rooted cultural beliefs and encourages conversations about the emotional well-being of boys. It is a reminder that children, regardless of gender, deserve to be heard, protected, and allowed to express their emotions without fear of judgment. In a society where “men don’t cry” is often treated as wisdom, Deja’s Scream boldly argues that such teachings may sometimes do more harm than good. The film’s greatest achievement is its ability to transform a deeply personal story into a broader conversation about silence, vulnerability, and healing.
Deja’s Scream is streaming on APATATV+.
