LAGOS - The final curtain call of the Nollywood Round Table brought together five of the industry’s most compelling voices—Seun Ajayi, Stan Nze, Okey Uzoeshi, Michael Ejoor, and Baaj Adebule—for an evening of discourse that stripped away the glamour typically associated with the Nigerian film industry. What emerged was not a polished PR narrative, but a raw, unfiltered exploration of what it actually means to build a career in a landscape often described by the actors themselves as defined by "anyhowness." For nearly two hours, the panel moved beyond the superficiality of red-carpet culture, providing a masterclass in the realities of artistry, professional navigation, and the psychological toll of sustained public visibility in Nollywood.
The conversation began with a retrospective look at the paths that led these men to the screen, a series of origin stories that highlighted the lack of a traditional, linear pipeline into Nigerian acting. These were not journeys born of industry nepotism, but of serendipity and hard-won transitions. Some discovered their calling in the most mundane of places, such as the dusty camps of the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC), while others found themselves pulled toward the arts through the encouragement of peers. Perhaps most striking were the stories of transition—men who walked away from stable, lucrative corporate careers, trading the predictability of a salary for the volatile, high-stakes uncertainty of the creative world. These stories served as a vital foundation for the discussion, reminding the audience that every actor on that stage arrived through a deliberate act of courage, forsaking societal expectations to pursue an industry that has historically lacked the infrastructure to support them.
Central to the panel’s discourse was the redefinition of success. In an industry obsessed with the metrics of social media following and the fleeting buzz of the latest blockbuster, these actors argued for a move toward legacy. Success, they posited, is not the accumulation of accolades or the frequency of one’s face on a billboard; it is the agency to say "no" to projects that compromise one's values and the ability to build a body of work that outlives the digital noise of the present. This transformational framing—moving from the "fame-first" model to the "legacy-first" model—was a powerful critique of the industry’s current state. It highlighted a shared ambition to move Nollywood from its chaotic, decentralized origins toward a more sustainable, craft-focused future, where longevity is valued over the "instant-star" trajectory.
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The panel was equally unflinching when addressing the structural failures of the industry. The conversation turned toward the relentless pressure of constant auditioning, the lack of standardized contracts, and the constant, grueling struggle to balance artistic passion with the reality of financial survival in Lagos. The actors described the mental and physical exhaustion that comes with working in an environment that often treats talent as a commodity rather than a collaborator. This segment of the discussion was imbued with emotional precision; the men spoke not as victims, but as stakeholders actively trying to build a foundation in a house that is still being constructed. They acknowledged that the lack of institutional structure—the very "anyhowness" they criticized—is the primary obstacle to the international standard they all strive to achieve.
Perhaps the most culturally significant portion of the conversation centered on the ethics of the set. The panel engaged in a nuanced, sensitive debate on how to maintain professionalism when faced with incompetence. They discussed the delicate art of navigating creative differences with less-experienced directors or managing relationships with colleagues who may lack the same rigorous training. The consensus was a call for grace—a recognition that professionalism is not about ego, but about the integrity of the work. They argued that even in a high-pressure, under-resourced environment, the actor’s primary responsibility is to elevate the performance, even if that means mentoring those around them or quietly correcting the vision of a misaligned director. It was a sophisticated look at the "soft power" that seasoned actors must exert to keep a project from collapsing under the weight of its own deficiencies.

The discussion also veered into the dark, often whispered corners of industry lore, particularly the rumors surrounding "juju" and the buying of awards. The panel addressed these topics with a mix of weary humor and serious condemnation, noting that the desperation to succeed often gives rise to myths that undermine the hard work of genuine professionals. They shared their own strategies for protecting their mental health, particularly after filming sequences that require the portrayal of extreme anger, trauma, or malice. They acknowledged that the emotional bleeding from the character into the real-life person is a real, albeit rarely discussed, hazard of the profession. By speaking openly about the need for therapy, community, and downtime, they provided a rare, humanizing look at the actors who typically appear to be untouchable, idealized figures.
As the evening drew to a close, the key takeaway was not a solution for the industry’s many problems, but a strategy for the individual artist’s survival. The actors reinforced that in a system that often fails to reward persistence, the only true hedge against failure is consistency. By honing one’s craft, building a robust support system, and maintaining a steadfast commitment to professional ethics, an actor can find longevity even in the most chaotic circumstances. They left the audience with a powerful mandate: Nollywood is evolving, and it is the responsibility of those within it to shape that evolution through their own discipline and character. The final takeaway was one of quiet resilience—a recognition that while they may not control the industry’s "anyhowness," they retain total control over their own excellence, and in the end, that is the only legacy that matters.