So, Who Eventually Becomes Lionheart?

By

Obododimma Oha

I had desperately sent a WhatsApp message to my movie supplier, saying I needed even a bad copy of Genevieve Nnaji's Lionheart. The film was making waves on Facebook and I had even joined in speculating about Nnaji’s cultural roots! I needed to watch the film, to be able to pontificate on it. And so, I was greatly relieved when the reply came saying copies were available! I had to show up earlier than arranged, to make sure there was no excuse. I got the film and rushed home to watch it!

Initially, I was disappointed and wanted to dismiss Nnaji’s film with a wave of the hand. After a very long attachment to Hollywood, particular high-crime series (in seasons) and first-class science fiction, Nnaji’s film appeared to me to be mere introduction: it seemed to me that, just as the film was about to begin, it suddenly ended! I didn’t like it and felt greatly disappointed. But I had to reflect on the story deeper to understand what was happening in it. It was a long reflection, and it only dawned on me as I was discussing the film with a friend. I took a different route in the discussion and it was as if the film was being replayed in my head, the key issues laid bare. I clearly understood why Netfix grabbed it with both hands. The film uses a very clever surprise element to shatter our common cultural assumptions about the female victim.

Here is the female protagonist, Adaeze, who is obviously committed to the success of her father’s mass transit business, unlike her brother, Obiora, who is wasteful and into hip-hop music. In the Igbo cultural setting, it would be some sort of disappointment for the son of a rich man to say he wants to be a musician. Although we have many successful Igbo musicians that could be used to debunk this, musicians in the Igbo culture are generally seen as ọfọọgeri (roughly translated as “wayward”) people. So, Adaeze was hs father’s only hope and consolation. Our first expectation is that he would make her his successor. But when he gets a heart attack and it is as if the company is riding rough waters to survive, he wants his younger brother Godswill, who is managing the Owerri branch, to head the company. This intensifies our grief... yes, Adaeze is about to be victimized, we would say. This is based on what we are quite familiar with in the treatment of women when it comes to inheritance in the Igbo culture. Worse still, Adaeze’s mother is in good terms with her uncle coming and clearly holds him in high esteem. We would naively conclude the they are dating, a wrong assumption again, based on what we have mentally fossilized as the behaviour of wives that kill their rich husbands in order to get closer to their boyfriends who may be gold diggers. In fact, this wrong assumption means that one becomes suspicious of the actions of Adaeze’s uncle, even when he means well. If he talks with Adaeze’s mother, you would look for evidence of his duplicity. If he comes to solidarize and talk with Adaeze’s father whom he addresses as “Odogwu," we search for that evidence in his moves and in his speech and his face. But we cannot find one and ... well, we decide that it can be postponed or searched for elsewhere. Is it also not informed by the stereotype of the extended family member as a breaker, something portrayed in Ukwa, another Nollywood film starred by Nkem Owoh? The fact is that postcolonial elite families in Igboland are gradually moving away from communalism, embracing individualism dangerously. It is only my husband and I and the extended family member is an intruder, held in great suspicion!

But the film, as a surprise element, shatters this myth. Adaeze’s uncle comes only to protect her interest. The very individual she trusts on the board turns out to be a traitor, another surprise! Her uncle proves his loyalty and dedication to the extent that he punches a man who thinks he could use her as a sexual pawn to grant a bank loan to the ailing company and is detained in a police cell along with Adaeze for it. It is as if to say to Adaeze: witness it firsthand. Secondly, the strategy of merger with another company from Kano which he initially suggests eventually turns out to be the solution to the financial problems of the company. When Adaeze’s father finally announces that Adaeze is the new CEO, he rejoices with her right away genuinely, as if to say: good, we have won, ; yes, the greatest surprise and relief! He is not the bad uncle we had assumed he is.  He is a good fellow and everyone is happy.  Even the hip-hop musician-son gives a special number to celebrate his father’s birthday (and his father gets to like it for it is a rich repackaging of the traditional ogene music! So, hip-hop artistes can produce something refreshing from tradition and make an oldie dance? That is another great surprise!

Our wrong assumption must have been informed also by the stereotyped roles mostly played by Genevieve Nnaji as a female victim in Nollywood films. Is this victimhood going to happen again? Yes; she suffers again, but is not really a victim. Her victimhood is deconstructed. We are made to see the other side of the coin. That, too, should warn us not to operate with a formatted mind, but to allow when it comes to cultural issues.

And, by the way, who turns out to be "Lionheart"? It is true that it is the name of the mass transit company. But in the story of the film, it becomes symbolic, a symbol for endurance. And so we are right in asking who exhibits enough endurance and bravery to be metaphorized as “Lionheart” in the film? Is it Adaeze’s uncle who helps the company to wade out of its dark waters and succeed? Is it Adaeze who suffers with the company, suffers emotionally until it succeeds, until she succeeds? Is it Adaeze’s father who started the journey, making what look like mistakes and making it possible for other brave people to manifest? I think the bravery and the success is shared. Success is better, sweeter, if shared like a cup of wine. And so, for me, Lionheart is the triumph of good over evil, especially when we have laboured for it, and it requires good planning and team-work, not the kind of suspicion enacted by assumptions that extended family is a monster poised to devour the nuclear family!