1 Comment

Set for an early 2016 release is GREEN WHITE GREEN the debut feature of Nigerian filmmaker Abba Makama with a screenplay by yours truly, Africa Ukoh. GREEN WHITE GREEN is a coming of age story about three young Nigerians with time to burn, a borrowed film camera and dreams as big as their motherland. The film stars Ifeanyi Dike Jr., Samuel Robinson, Jamal Ibrahim, Crystabel Goddy, Bimbo Manuel, Okey, Uzoeshi and Meg Otanwa. I had a ton of fun writing the script and it’s certainly going to be a film with a unique and vibrant visual flair.

Check out other works by Abba Makama here. And to find out more about my black ass you can visit the About An African Page.


How to Play the African King: A Guide for Nigerian Actors Trying to “Hammer”


Congratulations! You have just been cast to play the most prestigious role in Nigerian acting – the African King! Ah, yes, things are looking good. The hustle in combination with the ministry is moving. (Or maybe Babalawo is working … all na huzzle!) Now, you are probably scratching your soon-to-be-fictionally-crowned head looking for tips on how to do a stand up job. That is good. It means you understand the extreme importance playing an African King has in this Nollywood hustle. Execute this performance with bland generic expertise and you can secure a succession of roles in movies and theatre performances for years to come – in other words, you go don hammer!

King naira poker

The king of hammers. (Photo attribution: Nicholas Gemini)

To play this iconic role you must meet a minimum of two out of three strict criteria:

i. You are tall and/or huge and/or muscular and/or fat – you sha have body sha.
ii. You are old.
iii. You have a bass voice. Or you can talk as if you have a bass voice.

If you do not meet these criteria but have somehow been cast to play an African King, please, please, please, be very careful; another actor more equipped can easily steal your shine (note: if Babalawo is involved talk to him about this). So if you are not buff enough, better start gyming immediately. No money to register at a gymnasium? Join your local cement-block-and-iron-lifitng gym, there’s one in every neighbourhood. If you do not have a bass voice, beg the bass vocalist in your Church’s choir to train you.

Another worry you may have is that your acting skills aren’t good enough. Relax, you don’t need actual talent. All you need is ability to execute the ‘typical moves’ expected by an actor playing an African King. And for that I got you covered, homie! Follow the 6 easy steps broken down below and you will be on the yellow brick road to hammering. So, Capua, shall I begin?

Step 1: Don’t research
I repeat, DON’T research. Do not follow all these oversabi actors prancing about doing so-called ‘proper’ research so that they can give ‘original’ and ‘exciting’ performances that will be enjoyed for years to come. Ridiculous! First of all, you will just confuse your director. Secondly, you will make your executive producer nervous. After investing so much and hustling all that sponsorship (oh yes, even executive producer gaas huzzle) you now want to do something outside the comfort of conformity? Don’t put your hammering at risk, please. It doesn’t matter if audiences forget your performance after a few days because there’s no real substance to it. Just stick with the familiar and the predictable. ‘Mediocre’ and ‘generic’ are your watchwords. Hold them close to you at night. Cuddle them. Kiss them. Caress them. Now slowly undress them and begin to slide … Oh … sorry … I, erm, got a bit carried away there.

Step 2: Bulge your eyes
As wide as possible! Bulge them! Stretch open those big white orbs. Wider, I say, wider! Good. This will make you look FEARSOME, so you don’t have to stress yourself to do any actual acting. You must maintain this look for the entirety of the performance and as you can imagine that is no easy task. I recommend 2-3 hours of daily practice in front of a mirror. I also recommend purchasing a considerable stash of Panadol Extra or Alabukun. Eye problems are likely to occur, register ahead of time with your nearest optometrist.

Step 3: Look like a boss
Now that your eyes are popping more than a bottle of champagne in a Dr Sid song, the next thing you must do is bone! Or as the oversabi-grammar people say, scowl. This is the one facial expression you need for a long and prosperous career. Be careful not to be deceived by a few people who will ask why you always look the same in all your roles. They are enemies of progress. Do not be distracted by trivialities such as emotional range and psychological depth. Abeg! Abeg! Abeg! Abeg! Abeg! Just bone that face! If you are working on a movie, discuss with your director to find a proper bulging-eyes-to-scowling-face ratio. This is important so that when you add ginger to your performance (see step 6) your current level of overacting will not go into hyper-overdrive.

Coin Mansa Musa

Alas, 10 kobo! I spent it well, Horatio. A currency of infinite jest… (Photo attribution: Olutosinscorpio)

Step 4: The King Hath Swag
First, puff out your chest. Then, spread out your arms like a chicken frozen in its attempt to take flight. You know those body-builder guys with muscles so thick their arms can’t lie straight by the side of their body anymore? Great, just like them! Next, fill yourself up with a sense of pride so thick Tracy Obonna’s booty would write you a tribute song. Now, walk in large stomping strides, bouncing on every landing step, like an overweight ballet dancer whose recent surrender to a plate of swallow and egusi soup has pulverized his centre of gravity. This is especially important for you who will be performing in a theatre show. In a movie role you will spend 99% of your time sitting down so you may want to focus more on step 5.

Step 5: The King’s Speech
To TAAALK like an AAACtor plAAYing the AAAfrican KING, what you must DO is RAAAANdomly emphaSIZE SYllables in your DIAlogue without AAAny sense of rhythm, style, or PURPOSE. YOOOUUU must-also-ensure-that-you-master-the-ability-to-speak-very-fast-then-suddenly DRAAAAAAG the final (pause) words (pause) in your speech. This is what some ‘astute practitioners’ call the art of Shakespearean line delivery. “Why? Erm … Because … you know … that’s how they talk in all those Shakespeare films.” Remember, lines must always be rendered in the classic monotonous bass tone (see list of criteria above).

Step 6: Ginger
Ah, ginger! The secret ingredient of ancient Chinese tea and bad Nigerian acting. ‘Tis ginger which gives overacting that extra spicy flavour that makes viewers say: “O’boy that guy sabi act oh, see as him just dey ginger“. Who says an actor needs interpretive skill, analytical ability and aesthetic sensitivity? Abegi! All that one na sufferhead! Just ginger your way through every performance! Be sure to add copious amounts of ginger to your portrayal of the African King and success is yours.

ABOUT THE WRITER (this is where I talk about myself in the third person)
Playwright Africa African
Africa Ukoh (@Pensage – abeg, follow me for twitter oh!) is a playwright, screenwriter, actor, theatre director, and arts administrator. And protector of the realm. He is a co-founder and artistic director of African Renaissance Theatre & Entertainment, an Abuja-based performance art outfit. He has been the recipient of awards such as the BBC African Performance competition and the Stratford East/30 Nigeria House prize. In 2014 he won the prestigious Oscar award for best actress in a supporting role … Oh, no, wait, that … that was Lupita N’yongo. His works have appeared on platforms such as the BBC World Service, Voice of Nigeria, Sentinel Nigeria Magazine, Sentinel Annual Literature Anthology, and more. If you’d like to get in touch with him you can send N1500 MTN recharge card to 08036207841 and he will call you back, sharp sharp. Or maybe just email him: africaukoh@gmail.com.

“54 Silhouettes” in Pictures

Leave a comment

Last year ended on a theatrical high as NovemberDecember saw the premiere and 3 follow up performances of my (warning: shameless plug alert) double award winning play (BBC African Performance, 2011; and Stratford East/30 Nigeria House, 2012) 54 Silhouettes. Great fun and lots of lessons learned.

Being a theatre artist in Nigeria is like jumping out of a helicopter with no parachute over the Grand Canyon. It’s an industry that has no central financial source, hasn’t been able to build a stable audience base for decades and suffers from a paucity of creative business approaches – despite the various institutions which exist to support it.

Regardless, so strong is the love for theatre in some that we jump out of that helicopter over the Grand Canyon without parachutes because underneath our skin we feel the relentless itching of wings desiring to explode. I can’t wait to put so much of my thoughts on Nigerian (African?) theatre into writing and share with you guys. Until then, do enjoy pictures from 3 nights of performances of 54 Silhouettes. (Ps: you can listen to the BBC World Service’s abridged audio version of the play here.)
All photos are courtesy of the brilliant Timothy Aideloje (@jtimdal).

















“54 Silhouettes” Written & Directed by Africa Ukoh Hits the Stage


This November, the premier production of my (self-tooting horn alert) double award winning play “54 Silhouettes” finally hits the stage!

Where? Alliance Française, Jos
When? 16th November
By? 5pm
For? N500









You can listen to an abridged radio version of the play produced by the BBC World Service here. And check out other stories here, here, here, and here.

It’s time we paint Africa!

Theatre From Africa: 54 Silhouettes

1 Comment

I got a theatre show coming up in Jos city “J-town”, Plateau state, Nigeria. Watch this space from lots of awesome photos from rehearsals and performance.
Find out more here: http://wp.me/p2VHfW-HP



Coming Soon: “54 Silhouettes” a play written and directed by Africa Ukoh

1 Comment



Oga at the Top: A Master-Lesson for the Nigerian Actor


Ok, so if you don’t already know the “Oga at the top” gist, here’s the story. (For those already “in the know” skip to the third paragraph.) In early March, 2013, a high ranking official from the Nigeria Security and Civil Defense Corps (NSCDC), Lagos, visits Channels Television studios for an interview. At some point he is asked what the NSCDC’s website address is. Now, the official doesn’t know the address and I guess he figures it will be too embarrassing to expose his cluelessness, I don’t know. But he tries to play smart and rigmarole his way around the answer and what ensues is 1 minute 9 seconds of sheer and utter hilarity!

The debacle quickly went viral in Nigeria. Trending on Twitter, posts all over Facebook and Linkedin (just kidding, nobody uses Linkedin – calm down Linkedin people, na joke, ah!), people made memes out of it, and quips and commentary pervaded Blackberry messenger dp’s and pm’s. Some even made T-shirts bearing the now-legendary phrase: “my Oga at the top“. (I need one of those T’s, ASAP.)

While viewing the video for the 1, 236, 853rd time the realization hit me: THIS, IS A COMEDIC MASTERPIECE! This is a level of performance comic actors spend their entire careers striving to attain. So I thought, why not do an analysis of it from the actor’s perspective; examining how the drama hives many open secrets Nigerian actors can learn a thing or two from. And thus I set to work!

What you’ll find below is part analytical and part instructional. I have chosen to treat the video like a piece of FICTIONAL ART. I regard it as a sketch deliberately acted out. In NO WAY WHATSOEVER is this as an addition to the vast E-literature of mockery and fun-poking as regards the incident. (Though the humorous nature of the darn thing makes that nigh impossible.) Despite being a “comedy” the principles evaluated here are applicable to the art of acting as a whole.

Here’s the video, which I suggest you watch again even if you’ve seen it a gazillion times.

Ok, first let’s give the thing structure. I have chosen a two-part structure with basic story features. The whole thing occurs in just about a minute so structural sections only last for seconds.

1st part: 0:01 – 0:28. From “What is the website of the NSCDC?” to the first mention of “my Oga at the top“. We begin right at the inciting incident (which serves as a sort of ‘false exposition/set-up’) and develop to the complication.

2nd part: 0:29 – 1:09. This takes us through the furtherance of the complication, builds to the climax (where he says the website address) and wraps up with a 3 second resolution.

False exposition/set-up and inciting incident: 0:01 to 0:05
Rising action 0:06 to 0:30
Complication (and its continuance) 0:31 to 0:50
Climax 0:51 to 1:04
Resolution 1:05 to 1:08

Ok, now that we have the skeletal system of the thing, lets attach muscle and sinew to vital areas. The areas I cover are: subtext, timing & delivery, facial expressions & gestures.

At the humorous heart of what makes this… short-film pump with such unrelenting vivacity is the subtext. In case you don’t know what subtext is, here’s a basic definition from Wikipedia:

Subtext: content of a book, play, film, or television series which is not announced explicitly by the characters (or author) but is implicit or becomes something understood by the observer of the work as the production unfolds. (Ps: if you’re a career actor and you don’t know what subtext is, quit your job!)

Now, we know our hero – let’s call him: “Di Commandant” – we know Di Commandant doesn’t know the website address. In about 6 seconds we suspect and in 12 it’s obvious (if you have a very keen ear it’s actually obvious in 4 seconds). We all know say him nor sabi di thing but he tries so hard to keep up the act. Even before pressure is mounted on him, he begins to crack, stammering and clearing his suddenly dry throat. He knows he’s screwed, we know he’s screwed, but this state of screwedness is not announced explicitly. The audience figures it out and follows the actors as their characters decode it and react at appropriately different levels. This undertone of UNSPOKEN DOOM makes the scene work so so well.

Another layer to the subtext is Di Commandant’s defensiveness. Take into account that he was already under pressure from the rapid-fire questions preceding the scene. (See other portions of the interview here.) Immediately he’s asked about the website address he realizes he is cornered. He starts clawing and scratching for survival. The actor understands this and plays up the character’s defensiveness to just the right level, whereby it becomes absurd because all this fuss is being made over something as simple as… a website address.

Again, all of this is never articulated blandly. It is happening at the sub level, the dermis layer of acting. Were any of these hidden obviousities (ya, I know that’s not a word) to be openly stated the scene would instantly lose it’s impact, the same way a verbal joke loses potency when it is explained instead of told. The actors have a perfect grasp on the subtext and they expertly adjust their physical and vocal levels to hide the obviousities. (That’s ma nu word right thurr!)

Also worthy of note is the fact that the script writer wisely avoids lines like: “Are you confused?” “Are you sure you know the address?” “Look, I know what I am saying!” “Who told you I don’t know it?” Such dialogue would have robbed the scene of its richness. Rather, this dexterous pen-smith of classic comedy encodes the script with the essential subtext for the actors to decode and execute.

Every speaking actor in this scene delivers his/her lines perfectly – such a talented cast. The beats are observed to perfection, creating an overall ambience of confusion, yet contrasting the composure of the reporters with the nervous-wreck state of mind of Di Commandant. 4 to 7 seconds in and Di Commandant’s delivery is already quivering with audible sensations of “sh*t I’m f%!@#d“. His unfinished sentences, and jumpy speech pattern are punctuated with punch-like pauses. Add to this a vocal tone that says: “See, I know what I’m talking about oh“, and you have a cracking, rib-decimating performance of a dear clueless fellow who is not smart enough for his too-smart self. Great acting!

The actors playing reporters maintain a level vocal tone needed for Di Commandant to execute his role. They time and deliver their lines with great delicacy such that they are equally confused but not distracting us from Di Commandants confusion – because that is the FOCUS. Notice that though everyone in the scene is confused they are not all SHOUTING. (Crap! I just used “confused” 3 times in 2 sentences. Where the hell is that thesaurus?)

This is perhaps where the entire cast exhibits its skill at its finest. Again the contrast of composure (from the reporters) with nervousness (from Di Commandant) is vital. Notice how the reporters’ facial expressions are understated, not as emphatic as Di Commandants. Notice how the reporters sit in upright positions and almost never move their bodies; contrast this with Di Commandant’s frequent shuffling, especially of his upper body. Also observe how the reporters’ arms never go above shoulder level, whereas Di Commandant’s arms are often almost at face level, and sometimes higher. (Like when he gestures to say “my Oga at the top”.) This makes Di Commandant, with his stomping gestures, come off as erratic, disorganized, uncertain.

The finishing moves for me are at two close points.
1) The way he relaxes his body right before he delivers the line: “that’s all”.
2) The quick glance he gives one of the reporters immediately after the “that’s all” line. That look is priceless! I bet he practiced for ceaseless hours in front of a mirror just to perfect it.

As stated earlier, this classic skit holds many open secrets to fine acting. If only Nollywood could give us more scenes as expertly executed as this – popcorn go dey finish for cinema. The Nigerian actor can benefit from a critical study of this video, just as everyday situations are “real-time acting lessons”.

I have touched only the surface of a few basic areas of the art and I encourage all you dedicated actors out there to always dig deep into the discovery of more.


Subtext: Study subtext. Understand subtext. Master subtext. Even if e give you headache. You can’t seriously call yourself an actor if you don’t understand subtext.

Balance: Always seek to give a scene the right balance. Who is the focus of this scene? Where does my character fall in in terms of focus? Do I need to play up or play down? What are the various levels? And on and on and on… (Notice how in the video the reporters let Di Commandant have the scene and don’t struggle for it with him, yet they still give brilliant performances.)

DON’T BE A SCENE THIEF: (Barawo like you!) It is unethical, ruins potentially great scenes (especially for stage plays) and really is just the mark of a desperate and greedy actor.

Over exaggeration: (Yeah, I’m hyperbolic like that!) give every scene the level it needs, nothing more, nothing less. Screen actors beware of butchering your viewers with bulging eye expressions, forceful facial contortions and “hey, look at me I’m acting!” type gestures and movements.

Voice: this is a tough one because of how intricate voice and speech is in acting, especially for we in Naija who have various mother-tongues. But for now I’ll just say, record your lines and play them back to your hearing. Then at least TRY to assess yourself honestly.

Well, that’s all, folks! Acting is a beautiful art, respect it by giving nothing less than your best effort. If you enjoyed my analysis please share the post with family and friends who have interest in acting. If you didn’t enjoy it, well… so… (coughs) that’s all. Astalavista!

Ps: my favourite part of the video is 0:42 – 0:48 where the reporter with the red tie looks at the other male reporter then slowly turns to look at Di Commandant. It’s like he’s saying in his mind: “da f%@k is this guy talking about!!!”

(If you have any cool observations from the video and would like to share leave a comment.)

About the writer (This is where I talk about myself in 3rd person)
Africa Ukoh (@Pensage) is a playwright, screenwriter, actor, a stage director and concept consultant. He works with writers, actors, directors and other creative artists, providing key and insightful contributions to the development of their skills and projects. You can check out some of his work here, here, and here. He is a co-founder of African Renaissance Theatre & Ent. (A.R.T). A new arts movement based in Nigeria. You can can find out about A.R.T here and here. He is currently working on the Stratford East/30 Nigeria House project, and you can find out about that here.

%d bloggers like this: