The premiere of ‘The Benefactor’ was not just another night on Nollywood’s calendar. It was a night about the difficult questions. The air carried more than just excitement for a new film; it carried a heavy question: what happens when the very people who are supposed to protect us turn out to be the source of our deepest pain?
Written by Temiloluwa Fosudo and directed by Adeoluwa Owu, ‘The Benefactor’ doesn’t shy away from that question. It dives into it. The film tells the story of Tuntunlade, a rising music star whose dream begins to spiral into a nightmare when the person she believes is her benefactor becomes her abuser. The cast, which includes Bimbo Ademoye, Kunle Remi, Akin Lewis, Bimbo Manuel, and Tobi Makinde, delivers performances that feel raw and haunting. The film carries the weight of experiences that too many Nigerians know but rarely speak about.
Adeoluwa Owu deliberately set out to challenge Nollywood’s tendency to lean towards comedy or light-hearted entertainment. For him, this was personal. “Family is everything,” he notes. “The background you create for your children will ripple through your children’s future.” With this project, he wanted more than a movie; he wanted a mirror, a reflection of a society that too often buries its ugly truths under laughter and distraction.
One of the striking choices in the film is making Tuntunlade a musician. Fosudo, who wrote the story, explains that it wasn’t accidental. Music becomes her language of pain, her only safe outlet in a world that refuses to acknowledge what she is going through. Songs carry emotions that words often fail to hold, and through Tuntunlade’s music, the audience is invited to feel her hurt without needing an explanation.
Interestingly, the inspiration for ‘The Benefactor’ came from an Indian film that touched on themes of abuse and silence. But rather than replicate existing narratives, Fosudo wanted to carve something uniquely Nigerian, something that reflected the ways power, family, and silence intersect here. His wife, a feminist, played a critical role in shaping the script, ensuring the film stayed honest in its portrayal of trauma and survival rather than reducing it to a cliché.
The film’s title itself is heavy with irony. Benefactors are supposed to be helpers, protectors, and lifelines. But in this story, as in the lives of many survivors, the people who hold the power to help are the ones who harm. It is a bitter truth in Nigeria, where abuse is often swept under the carpet, excused, or dismissed because the abuser is “family” or “close”. Perpetrators too often walk free because silence becomes the shield that protects them.
For actor Tobi Makinde, who plays one of the abusers in the film, the message is urgent. “Abusers need stern punishment and psychological evaluation,” he insists. His role forced him to embody the very darkness that society ignores—the relative who molests his family member under the same roof, the predator who hides behind the mask of love or support.
‘The Benefactor’ is not easy. It is an emotional rollercoaster that drags viewers through anger, heartbreak, and reflection. Yet, in all its heaviness, there is hope. At the premiere, audience members described feeling not only sadness but also a call to action. Some spoke about the strength of survivors they knew; others left determined to break the culture of silence in their families and communities.
The message is clear: survivors are stronger than their circumstances. Healing is possible. But for healing to begin, there must be a willingness to listen to survivors and to hold abusers accountable.
As it makes its way across Nigerian cinemas, ‘The Benefactor’ isn’t just entertainment. It’s a conversation starter. It’s a demand for accountability. And it’s a reminder that cinema can do more than entertain; it can confront, challenge, and change. Adeoluwa Owu hopes that anyone sitting in the cinema who has endured abuse, pain, or family dysfunction will leave with one truth planted in their hearts: “There is hope and help. You will emerge stronger.”
‘The Benefactor’ stands tall as proof that Nollywood can tell stories that matter, stories that sting, and stories that heal. Some truths are uncomfortable. But if they remain untold, silence will continue to protect the wrong people.
