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When Netflix released Femi Adebayo’s “Seven Doors,” the buzz around the film quickly shifted from its gripping story to something more contentious. Audiences outside Africa, especially in the Nigerian diaspora, found themselves unable to watch the much-anticipated Nollywood blockbuster.
Suddenly, the spotlight turned to Netflix’s geo-restriction policies, sparking debates about whether this move was about licencing, business strategy, or, as some suspect, the quality of Nigerian productions.
Word on the street says this film is not available to view by Netflix subscribers internationally. Folks in Canada, UK, US and such places can’t watch. The question is why? Why limit the film’s reach in this way? https://t.co/JsongNrI7t
— Molara Wood (@molarawood) December 15, 2024
For years, Nollywood has been a powerful cultural export, captivating audiences worldwide with its vibrant storytelling and unapologetically African narratives. Yet Netflix’s decision to geo-lock major titles like Lisabi and Seven Doors has raised a troubling question: Is Netflix trying to box Nollywood into a regional market?
Desmond Ekunwe, a Nollywood producer, sees a silver lining in the situation. “This isn’t entirely negative,” he says. “It’s forcing filmmakers to rethink distribution strategies. Platforms like Circuits.tv are stepping in, making titles like Seven Doors available globally, even if Netflix limits access. It’s a win-win situation for filmmakers and audiences.”
IMG: Femi Adebayo on Instagram
But Desmond is also quick to acknowledge the challenges. He explains that geo-restrictions often arise from licencing deals tailored to specific markets.
“Netflix might secure African rights while another platform, like Prime Video, handles Europe or North America. This strategy could expand revenue streams if done correctly.” Still, he emphasises the need for Nollywood filmmakers to collaborate with experts in intellectual property and distribution to ensure their stories transcend borders.
An anonymous Nollywood actor, who also weighed in on the matter, took a more hard-hitting stance. “It’s mostly a quality issue versus revenue from the region where the project is being produced,” he states bluntly. “Netflix doesn’t just make films globally available for the fun of it. It costs them resources—marketing, tech support, everything. If the numbers don’t justify it or if the project doesn’t meet specific quality metrics, it’s just not worth it for them.”
The actor points out an uncomfortable truth: while Nollywood boasts creativity, many projects fail to meet the rigorous technical and storytelling standards required for global distribution.
When asked if they believe geo-restrictions limit Nollywood’s potential to generate global revenue, the actor states:
“When you limit global reach, you limit global revenue and foreign investment. Investors need to see what’s possible here. If our films aren’t out there, how will they even know what potential exists?” he asks.
A professional who asked not to be named for fear of professional lynching says:
“I have always believed that geo-restrictions significantly limit Nollywood’s potential in the global marketplace.”
“When streamers like Netflix restrict access to Nigerian content, the audience size would reduce, and therefore this would limit revenue streams from international viewers who might be interested in Nollywood’s storytelling.
“But can you blame the streamers? Nigeria still has a long way to go in producing good quality content that will make the streamers gain.”
They add that geo-restrictions create a bridge and narrow Nollywood’s ability to promote Nigerian culture on a global scale.
“Nollywood has powerful cultural influences which showcase Nigeria’s traditions, languages, and our way of life.
“So, when there is no access to the global space, the dissemination of the Nigerian culture is restricted. This now creates a gap between us as Nigerians and the global space.
“Only a few notable films have been privileged to gain access to the global market in Nigeria, like “Anikulapo” by Kunle Afolayan and “Jagun Jagun” by Femi Adebayo. While we are waiting for more access to the global market, let’s improve our storytelling.”
The financial implications go beyond distribution deals. Nollywood’s global reach—or lack thereof—directly affects its cultural impact. Films are not just entertainment; they are powerful tools for showcasing Nigeria’s culture, values, and talent to the world. Desmond, while optimistic, acknowledges that geo-restrictions can hinder Nollywood’s ability to promote Nigerian culture globally.
Yes, these films can still showcase our culture to the 53 other African countries, but isn’t our culture meant for the world to see? Desmond asks.
Then there’s piracy, the ever-present thorn in Nollywood’s side. Both Desmond and the anonymous actor agree that it’s a significant issue, but they differ on the solutions.
Desmond argues that restricting access only fuels piracy. “When audiences can’t access films legitimately, they turn to pirated copies. VPNs and Telegram channels are already filled with Nollywood content, and geo-restrictions only make piracy more tempting,” he explains.
The anonymous actor shares similar sentiments but ties the piracy issue to deeper systemic problems. “Piracy exists everywhere, but here, it’s amplified by low purchasing power and a culture of not paying for content. What’s the point of a film going viral if most people watch it on pirated platforms? The numbers need to make sense,” he says, adding that this is why global strategies like festivals and showcases are critical for Nollywood’s growth.
Beyond the financial and cultural aspects, the conversation about geo-restrictions touches on Nollywood’s readiness to compete globally. Are the stories ambitious enough? Are production values on par with international standards? While Desmond believes the industry has made significant strides, he admits there’s still work to be done.
“The worth of a Nollywood film goes beyond numbers. But for us to grow, we need to aim higher—both in quality and in ensuring our stories reach the world,” he says.
So, the debate on geo-locking isn’t just about access—it’s about identity, innovation, and ambition. Can Nollywood’s filmmakers rise to the challenge of breaking these digital barriers? Or will the industry remain confined to regional platforms and audiences?
For now, platforms like Circuits.tv offer a glimmer of hope, showing that alternatives exist for global access. But as Desmond points out, the ultimate goal isn’t just access—it’s ensuring that Nollywood becomes a true global powerhouse.
“Our stories deserve to be seen. Not just in Africa, but everywhere. Because when the world watches, that’s when the magic truly happens.”
What else you should know
Coupled with the geo-locking feature, there was a recent revelation that Netflix has halted commissioning, acquiring, and funding Nigerian movies—effective November 2024.
At the Zuma Film Festival in Abuja, Victor Ohai, president of the Directors Guild of Nigeria, broke the news with a stark metaphor:
Netflix came to serve the last supper here.
Filmmaker Kunle Afolayan, a longtime collaborator with Netflix, echoed concerns about the economic ramifications, warning that without strong local distribution networks, Nollywood risks losing a critical revenue stream and global audience access.
But beyond the immediate financial impact, Netflix’s actions expose a deeper vulnerability: Nollywood’s over-reliance on foreign platforms.
Netflix is not the first to walk away. Amazon Prime Video, its biggest rival in Nigeria, made a similar move almost three years ago. Initially, both platforms entered the Nigerian market with enthusiasm, investing in original productions, licencing local films, and promising to elevate Nollywood to global standards. Their exit suggests that something fundamental is amiss.
One possible explanation, as highlighted earlier, is profitability. While Nollywood is the second-largest film industry in the world by volume, its revenue model remains fragile. Streaming giants, focused on subscription-driven models, may not see the expected return on investment in a country where digital piracy, inconsistent internet infrastructure, and economic instability pose challenges to profitability.
Amazon and Netflix likely reached the same conclusion: Nollywood is too big to ignore, but not profitable enough to sustain continued investment. Instead of nurturing the industry long-term, they have chosen to deprioritise it, leaving local filmmakers scrambling for alternatives.
Kunle Afolayan’s response to the crisis was pragmatic:
We need to create our own distribution platform.
Kunle Afolayan, Nigerian filmmaker
He pointed to the increasing number of Nollywood actors and filmmakers turning to YouTube as a last resort—building independent channels, self-distributing films, and relying on ad revenue rather than licensing deals.
While YouTube offers a temporary solution, Afolayan warned against over-reliance, citing the risk of policy changes that could further limit Nollywood’s reach. His concerns are valid: YouTube, like Netflix, operates within a shifting landscape of corporate strategies, regional policies, and monetisation algorithms that could one day deprioritise Nigerian content just as easily.
The reality is that Nollywood’s success has never depended on Netflix or Amazon. It thrived long before streaming platforms arrived, and with the right strategic moves, it can continue to grow without them. The challenge now is to turn this setback into an opportunity—one that ensures Nollywood’s films remain accessible, profitable, and globally recognized on its terms.
Netflix has yet to respond to comments on the story.
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