It becomes clear that while geoblocking is a significant barrier to Nollywood’s global reach, cinema scheduling poses a more immediate threat to its domestic ecosystem.
By Joseph Jonathan
There is always palpable disappointment when you find a film you’d like to watch on a streaming platform, but you get the “not available in your region” message when you hit play. This has been the exact feeling for many Nigerians in the diaspora with every major release on streaming platforms like Netflix and Prime Video.
For instance, when Femi Adebayo’s award-winning series, Seven Doors, was released on Netflix on December 13, 2024, there was widespread disappointment on social media from the diaspora until he announced that the series would be made available to them via Circuits, another streaming platform.
This disappointment stems not only from the unavailability of the content but also from the knowledge that the content is, in fact, available, just not to you. This is the reality of geoblocking, a common practice in the media that restricts access to content based on geographical location. For Nollywood fans, geoblocking is a particularly frustrating issue. Many Nigerian films and series are released exclusively on streaming platforms, making them inaccessible to fans outside of Nigeria or specific regions.
But what exactly is geoblocking, and why do streaming platforms employ this practice?
Geoblocking, also known as geolocking, is the practice of restricting access to online content based on a user’s geographical location. To achieve this, the content provider, in this case, streaming platforms, identifies the user’s IP address which is linked to their location.
While often seen as a Netflix or Prime Video issue, the root cause lies in licensing agreements. As Jide Oladele, Growth Manager at Nollywire, explains, “It all depends on the deal the content owner signs. If a streamer only secures African rights, the film won’t be viewable in Europe or America”. This fragmentation of distribution rights creates artificial barriers in an era where filmmakers try to tap into the “Nollywood to the world” movement.
The reasons behind these restrictive deals are primarily economic. Streaming platforms may pay more for exclusive regional rights than for worldwide licenses, making fragmented deals financially appealing to filmmakers working with tight budgets.
Moreso, a producer might license African rights to Netflix, European rights to Amazon, and North American rights to any other diaspora-focused platform, maximising revenue across different markets. There are also legal considerations, as some films don’t meet regulatory standards in certain countries, making global distribution legally complex.
The consequences of this system are far-reaching. The Nigerian diaspora, a key demographic for Nollywood, is often shut out from accessing content legally. This not only frustrates loyal fans but also represents missed opportunities for cultural exchange and industry growth.
When legal access is denied, many viewers turn to piracy, which further hurts revenues and creates a vicious cycle that discourages investment in quality production. Some tech-savvy fans attempt to bypass restrictions using VPNs, but streaming platforms are increasingly sophisticated at detecting and blocking such workarounds.
It is important to note that geoblocking is not peculiar to Nigeria and Nollywood titles alone. As Oladele notes, “It’s not just the Nollywood titles, it’s any and every title”. However, what becomes worrisome is the fact that while other African film industries like South Africa’s regularly secure global releases on Netflix, Nollywood films consistently get relegated to geo-locked African releases with barely any publicity.
This disparity persists despite Nollywood’s massive output and proven global appeal, revealing an uneven application of distribution policies that ultimately limits the industry’s international growth potential. In fact, according to data contained in a newsletter by WhatKeptMeUp, the last Nollywood film to enjoy a global Netflix release was the Ramsey Nouah-directed Tokunbo (2024).
While geoblocking frustrates international fans, showtime scheduling in Nigerian cinemas equally frustrates local ones. In Nigerian cinemas, Hollywood titles and bigger budget Nollywood titles are assigned better showtimes, which, according to Oladel,e “is just business and nothing personal” because cinema operators prioritise showing films that guarantee a large audience, and subsequently, more revenue.
According to Patrick Lee, a former chairman of the Cinema Exhibitors Association of Nigeria, cinemas allocate premium time slots (showtimes) to movies based on their performance in their opening weekend. This decision is understandable, even logical, but when it becomes extreme, it creates an ecosystem where only a narrow range of Nollywood films, typically big-budget productions or those featuring A-list actors, can thrive, while innovative or mid-budget projects struggle to find an audience.
It is easy to say that the opening week performance determines the subsequent showtimes of a movie, but are cinema operators doing enough to provide a level playing field for every movie that debuts on the same weekend? Especially when you consider that cinema operators have been accused of sabotaging certain movies in favour of others.
When C.J “Fiery” Obasiʼs critically acclaimed film, Mami Wata (2023) premièred in Nigerian cinemas, it was allocated showtimes that fell within working hours and even when filmgoers showed up, they were turned away due to “technical issues” or outrightly redirected to another film. It was so bad that the film only raked in an underwhelming 2.4 million naira.
The fallout from this imbalance is severe. Films that receive poor screening times often underperform at the box office, creating a perception of failure that makes it harder for their creators to secure funding for future projects.
Over time, this discourages diversity in storytelling and may push talented filmmakers toward television or streaming platforms, where exposure isn’t gate-kept by physical cinemas (an alternative that has now proven to be more difficult with reduced funding from streaming platforms). Perhaps most damaging is the cultural erosion that occurs when only a fraction of Nollywood’s output receives proper theatrical exposure.
I recall a personal experience when I visited a cinema to watch a specific film, having confirmed the showtime on their website. However, upon arrival, I was informed that the film was not available. There was no explanation and no apology whatsoever. It’s a story many filmgoers share.
Veteran actor, Femi Branch, once took to social media with similar complaints. In a now-viral video, he accused cinema operators of manipulating showtimes and pressuring audiences toward specific films. His allegations speak to a deeper issue: the undue influence cinemas wield over what Nigerian audiences get to see and when.
This scheduling bias stifles emerging filmmakers, whose works often depend on word-of-mouth and fair screen time to gain traction. When their films are buried under confusing showtime changes or relegated to odd hours, their potential to reach audiences and succeed commercially is severely undercut. The alleged manipulation of showtimes and promoting certain films over others, undermines the principles of fair competition and artistic merit.
Unfortunately, there seems to be no end in sight for Nollywood’s cinema scheduling challenges as evidenced in the recent case of the Akay Mason-directed Red Circle, which premièred in cinemas on June 6th. While there have been positive reviews from critics and audiences alike, complaints of sabotage by cinemas seem to almost overshadow the plaudits.
On X (fka Twitter), a fan identified as Didi complained that the screen went off mid-movie and the audience was asked to step out. AMVCA-winning writer and producer, Blessing Uzzi also expressed displeasure over the inability of a friend to see Red Circle on two occasions because the film was either not showing or stuck in a subpar hall. These are just two instances from many littered all over social media, and despite these ugly incidents, the film still managed to rake in 33 million naira in its opening weekend.
These persistent cinema scheduling challenges also mirror a broader structural issue within Nollywood’s distribution ecosystem: the concentration of influence in the hands of a few key players. While it’s understandable that businesses will prioritise profitability, the repeated sidelining of certain films suggests that market forces alone may not fully explain the pattern. Rather, it points to systemic power imbalances where access to cinema screens can sometimes depend not only on the merit of a film but also on the relationships and networks behind it.
What’s even more troubling is that many young and especially independent filmmakers hardly speak up about the injustice they face for fear of being “blacklisted”. In December 2024, former BBN housemate, Pere Egbi, in a now-deleted Instagram post, lamented the unfair treatment of his film The Silent Intruder (2024) by cinemas, stating, “At this point, I don’t care about being blacklisted”.
His statement reflects a widespread fear among filmmakers that speaking out could jeopardize future opportunities in the industry. Without intentional efforts to build a fairer, more transparent system, Nollywood risks stifling creative diversity and undermining its own long-term growth.
This is not to suggest that there is a deliberate conspiracy against independent filmmakers, but the current structure makes it easier for established studios, distributors, or individuals with strong industry ties to secure favourable slots. As a result, emerging filmmakers and independent producers often face significant barriers, regardless of the quality of their work.
It becomes a case where the machinery required to successfully distribute a film theatrically is not equally accessible to all. Filmmakers who lack the right connections or financial leverage may find themselves on the back foot, competing not just for audiences, but for the very space to be seen at all.
Addressing these twin challenges requires coordinated action across several fronts. For geoblocking, filmmakers could negotiate non-exclusive global rights or partner with distribution aggregators to secure wider access. Filmmakers also need to improve the quality of storytelling in such a way that inspires confidence in streaming platforms to adjust their licensing strategies amidst the growing global appetite for Nollywood films.
On the cinema front, government intervention through screen quotas, such as in France, could help rebalance the playing field, while alternative distribution models like pop-up screenings or virtual cinema releases could provide additional avenues for exposure. Filmmaker collectives negotiating joint distribution deals might give smaller productions more bargaining power with exhibitors.
When weighing these issues, it becomes clear that while geoblocking is a significant barrier to Nollywood’s global reach, cinema scheduling poses a more immediate threat to its domestic ecosystem. If Nollywood cannot thrive in its home market, its international ambitions will remain fundamentally constrained. The industry’s growth depends on solving both challenges to ensure that films can reach audiences both at home and abroad without artificial restrictions or structural disadvantages.
Joseph Jonathan is a historian who seeks to understand how film shapes our cultural identity as a people. He believes that history is more about the future than the past. When he’s not writing about film, you can catch him listening to music or discussing politics. He tweets @JosieJp3