By Tosin Brown
The Nigerian film industry might be churning out great productions and getting the nods of the international community but the practitioners – majorly the filmmakers – are not entirely happy.
Despite being the second-largest film industry in the world by volume, Nollywood is facing a new set of challenges that threaten its commercial viability. It is grappling with a trifecta of problems that could define its future, if not snuff enthusiasm out of some of its most competent stakeholders.
eelive.ng investigations reveal that some of the challenges facing filmmakers in Nigeria include declining cinema patronage, an increasingly elusive audience, poor marketing practices, and a contentious revenue-sharing formula among producers, distributors, and exhibitors. These factors currently combine to stunt what should be a golden age for Nigerian cinema.
Nigeria’s struggling economy as it crawls to get back on its feet, leads the myriad of issues bedevilling Nigerian film industries and filmmakers. With raving inflation eating into the disposable income of Nigerians, the ailing economy has affected the cinema going culture.
At the bustling Filmhouse cinemas in Surulere, Lagos, a Friday evening used to guarantee packed halls and long queues of moviegoers eager for the newest Nigerian blockbuster. These days, the popcorn machines still hum, but the crowd has thinned. Empty seats and lacklustre ticket sales have become a haunting refrain for Nigeria’s film industry, also known as Nollywood.
While there is a decline in cinema patronage, and inadequate marketing has flawed some productions, a deeply flawed revenue-sharing system seems to be the major punishment for the very creators it should reward.
The data is sobering. According to figures from the Cinema Exhibitors Association of Nigeria (CEAN), cinema admissions have fallen sharply since the initial rebound that followed the COVID-19 lockdowns. Outside of rare successes like ‘A Tribe Called Judah,’ which grossed over ₦1.4 billion in 2023, most films struggle to break even, let alone turn a profit.
“People are simply choosing cheaper alternatives,” explains media analyst Bolaji Alonge in a conversation. “Streaming platforms have found a sweet spot… it’s easier to pay ₦1,200 for Netflix per month than to go to the cinema and spend the same amount on one movie ticket.” His analysis is echoed on the ground.
The reasons extend beyond cost. Poorly made or rushed films have dulled audience excitement. Viewers, once willing to give Nigerian films the benefit of the doubt, have grown sceptical. And in an environment where piracy is rampant and safety concerns are real in certain parts of the country; the cinema outing has lost its shine.
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If declining audiences are one head of the hydra, weak marketing is another. Despite the talent and vision that many Nigerian filmmakers bring to their projects, they are often unable to give their films the promotional push required to capture the public imagination. “Releasing a film in cinemas requires an aggressive marketing strategy. Without substantial promotional efforts, even a great film might fail to draw audiences,” a Pulse report says.
But marketing remains an afterthought for many. Instead of planned, multi-channel campaigns, billboards, influencer tie-ins, trailer drops, interviews, many filmmakers rely on Instagram trailers and press screenings alone. “Nigerian filmmakers often spend millions on production and then allocate nothing or next to nothing for marketing,” says a film publicist. “They’ll post two trailers and think the job is done.”
In another swift, some filmmakers will argue that the cost of marketing – often than not – overstretched overall budgets for a film. Most filmmakers consider a good marketing strategy, however, the humongous sum expected to pull a befitting marketing for any film deters the filmmaker. It has even been speculated in some quarters that the sum for marketing for a film in some cases is almost 60% of the total sum of production of the film.
And then there’s the issue of the sharing formula for accruements from cinemas, Filmmakers say they are being systematically squeezed out of their own work. “By the time we account for marketing expenses, production costs, and the cinema cut, there’s very little left for the filmmaker,” says a Nigerian film producer. “This imbalance… discourages smaller filmmakers and independent producers from entering the cinema space.”
That imbalance is structural. In the first week of a film’s release, cinemas typically take up to 60% of the box office gross. Distributors then claim 15% to 20%. That leaves the producer with as little as 20% to 30% from which production costs, investor repayments, and marketing must be recovered.
Omotola Jalade-Ekeinde, a longtime Nollywood star and producer, has publicly lamented the system, noting how “exhibitors, distributors, government taxes, and agents take so much from box office sales that next to nothing remains for the actual filmmaker.”
Exhibitors, that is cinema owners, however also have a say as they reveal the burden they bear. “We provide the space, electricity, security, cleaning, staff,” says one cinema executive who asked not to be named. “It’s not cheap to run a cinema in Nigeria. We’re also taking a risk showing the film. If it flops, we lose too.”
But filmmakers think this justification rings hollow. “Why will producers pay about 95 percent of the production budget and still take home the least?” Even when you sign 50-50 contracts, the returns to producers keep reducing every week,” says Femi Ogunsanwo, a leading film producer.
The resulting lack of trust has pushed many filmmakers toward alternative distribution. Streaming platforms like Netflix, Showmax, and Prime Video offer one-time payments and wider reach, even if they come with their own problems.
‘The Black Book,’ a Netflix original from Nigeria, achieved over 70 million views globally, the same as other original titles on the streaming platform.
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Currently, the social media platform, YouTube has emerged as a surprising haven, especially for independent creators. Meanwhile, Omoni Oboli’s romantic drama ‘Love in Every Word’ racked up over 5 million views on YouTube in just three days. Bimbo Ademoye’s productions on YouTube have continued to harness views cumulating into over 60 million views for nine films in a span of one year.
However, the resort to YouTube has seen almost all film practitioners opening a channel as another source of income since it has become commercially viable for some that have made headway.
But while streaming offers visibility, it does not fix the fundamental issues plaguing Nigeria’s box office system. In fact, it raises the stakes that, without urgent reform, the country risks losing its theatrical culture entirely.
Despite the bleak picture, industry players believe a reset is possible. They list a couple of important steps for a sustainable reset.
One of such is the need to restructure the revenue-sharing model for cinema exposures. Rather than a flat 60-40 or 50-50 split, filmmakers are advocating for a sliding scale that favours producers more in the early weeks, when the film is hottest.
Transparency in accounting is also key. Many producers claim they do not get accurate box office returns and are underpaid due to vague or inaccessible reporting systems.
Industry watchers also suggest that marketing must also be professionalised. Producers are now urged to a
llocate at least 15 to 20 percent of their total budget to marketing—and to bring marketers on board at the development stage, not the release week. “We need to seduce the audience again,” says another filmmaker. “And that starts with story hooks, digital buzz, outdoor media, and audience engagement.”
Available infrastructure remains a concern too. Joy Odiete, CEO of Blue Pictures, notes that Nigeria has only about 100 cinemas for over 220 million people. “We need investment in infrastructure like community cinemas. Producers also need to leverage the full ecosystem: theatrical, streaming, TV, digital sales, and even merchandising.”
Government support could play a role—via tax rebates, grants, or easier access to loans for film projects. But in the absence of serious policy intervention, the industry must organize and reform from within.
As Patrick Lee, former chairman of the Cinema Exhibitors Association, puts it: “Producers often misunderstand these agreements. But there needs to be better collaboration—so all sides get what they deserve.”
For now, filmmakers soldier on. But without meaningful change, many warn, the lights may dim on Nollywood’s cinema dreams. “Africa is the last storytelling frontier. Nigerians want to see themselves on screen, to hear their stories told with dignity and flair. But we need to create conditions where the people making those stories can survive,” says a Nigerian producer.
First, there must be a serious rethink of the revenue-sharing model. “We need to sit down, all stakeholders, and renegotiate these terms,” says Zeb Ejiro, a veteran filmmaker. “If we want a thriving industry, the people creating the content must be rewarded fairly.”
Second, marketing must be seen not as a luxury but as a necessity. Filmmakers need to budget realistically for promotional campaigns—no less than 15-20% of the total production cost—and engage marketing experts from the start.
Third, exhibitors and distributors must become more collaborative and transparent in accounting. Regular reporting, real-time data sharing, and reduced leakages in ticket sales are necessary to build trust.
Lastly, the government and regulatory bodies can step in to provide incentives. Tax rebates for producers, grants for innovative projects, and investments in cinema infrastructure in underserved areas could help widen the audience base.
If the stories are to endure, the business behind them must be reimagined—with fairness, foresight, and respect. Because in today’s Nollywood, creativity is abundant.
The Nigerian film industry stands at a crossroads. It is rich in talent, stories, and ambition, but burdened by structural inefficiencies and commercial anxiety. As cinema halls echo with the ghosts of dwindling patrons and marketing remains an afterthought, the dream of a sustainable, globally competitive Nollywood is flickering.
But all is not lost.
Until then, the industry continues to hustle in the shadows of its potential, hoping that the next blockbuster will do more than just break box office records—it must also break the cycle of structural neglect.
