The Herd: A movie that forces Nigerians to feel again

 

A movie the street of X(formerly Twitter) practically forced me to watch. The clashing opinion and takes from two loud factions on the platform served as a free ad, strong enough to push anyone into watching the movie. On one side are those who insist the movie painted Muslims and Northerners in the darkest light possible, and on the other are those that believe it is an honest portrayal of Nigerians reality. 

And my take? 

That this is a brilliant thriller, one that does a fantastic job of capturing the horror of terrorism and banditry in Nigeria with chilling accuracy. And that is an honest opinion coming from me, a Muslim, and my roommate, a Muslim Northerner, who watched the movie at the same time I did. 

Picture from Nollywire 

"One minute they're celebrating love, the next they're fighting for their lives." The Netflix Catchphrase used in promoting this movie couldn't be more fitting.

The movie begins colourfully by sweeping you into the joy and high energy of a typical Yoruba Owanbe, two beautiful individuals tying the knot under the rhythmic festive beat of drums and music. And without any warning, without a "let me hold your hand" moment, the scene soon turns bloody into one of chaos and panic with loud, deadly gunshots replacing the sound of joyous drums. 

One of my favorite things about The Herd is its fast-paced nature. It wastes no time. The movie manages its two plus hours efficiently, with violence arriving early and unrelenting. When Fola, a character I assumed would play a major role was eliminated so quickly, I knew I was in for a movie that isn't afraid to tell its truth. 

Picture from Nollywire 

But beyond its main theme of terrorism, The Herd also wonderfully explored sub-themes such as cultural beliefs, tribalism, love, betrayal and even corruption.

The character of Adamma, Gosi's wife, is used to show how old and archaic cultural beliefs are still being strongly upheld today. In her struggle to raise the ransom money, Adamma seeks out her in-laws, people who she and her husband no longer keeps contact with, soliciting for their help. It is here we learn she is an Osu, an outcast, and her marriage to Gosi is considered a cultural offense. 

Gosi's stubbornness and defiance in marrying her not only got him disowned, but nearly cost him his life, as his parents couldn't be more reluctant to help with the ransom. That moment in the movie goes to expose what many Nigerians often deny, that despite all our modernization and our adoption of new faiths and religions like Christianity and Islam, many still cling tightly to ancient beliefs, which often override empathy and humanity. 

Then there is Habiba, brilliantly played by Amal Umar, a character I find most intriguing. One moment she's warm and gentle, offering food to captives, insisting they're not to be treated like animals. The next she's cold, calculating and ordering the execution of a captive planning an escape. She completely overturns the assumption of anyone who might initially wonder how a woman, a gender often considered gentle and weak, manages to live with, marry and cater for criminals. We quickly see that she isn't playing a role of housewife among these terrorists but that of a core member of the group, serving as a negotiator and translator between them and the relatives of their captives. 

Towards the end of movie, in a face-off between Yakub and her husband Halil, we learn she was once a captive herself, handed over in marriage to Halil as a reward for his loyalty to Sheik. In the final scene, we see Habiba isn't a loyal and devout wife but a hardened survivor willing to throw anyone under the bus to secure her safety. 

Her character forces us to ask painful questions: What became of hundreds of young secondary school girls kidnapped from their schools as far back as 2014 and the many more recently abducted? What has trauma sculpted them into? Have these girls become criminals and terrorists themselves after years of surviving violence and abuse? 

In conclusion, The Herd is a brilliant movie that captures the violence that has had Nigeria in a chokehold for over a decade. It reminds and forces one to feel again—an emotion many Nigerians have lost after years of endless news of killings, kidnappings and terrorism. It reminds one that victims of terrorism are humans like oneself, with past, dreams and aspiration and not just numbers and statistics.