Nigeria’s Gay Film Showdown: Can NFVCB Stop What the Internet Has Already Seen?

A controversial film trailer has reopened a difficult Nigerian debate over homosexuality, creative freedom and censorship. Beneath the outrage lies a harder legal question: can the National Film and Video Censors Board reject controversial content, or must it rely on specific legal provisions? Adedayo Adejobi quizzes…

A controversial film trailer has reignited a debate Nigeria cannot afford to dismiss as mere entertainment: should a film that promotes or normalises same-sex relationships be given unrestricted access to the Nigerian public when such relationships conflict with Nigeria’s laws, prevailing cultural values and the teachings of Christianity and Islam?

This is not an argument about whether people exist who identify as homosexual. They do. Nor is it an argument for mistreating or dehumanising anyone. It is an argument about public culture, the limits of entertainment, and the responsibility of a sovereign society to determine what it permits its regulated film industry to promote.

On that question, Nigeria has a substantial legal and cultural basis for taking a firm position. Nigeria has made its position clear

The National Film and Video Censors Board is not an institution operating in a legal vacuum. It was established under the National Film and Video Censors Board Act to regulate the film and video industry, including censorship, classification and public exhibition. The Board itself states that its regulatory mandate includes protecting children, preserving culture and regulating the industry.

Its enforcement framework is equally clear. The Board identifies the distribution or exhibition of unapproved films and trailers, pornography, unlicensed exhibition and breaches of classification requirements among matters for which enforcement action may be taken. That matters in the present controversy.

A filmmaker cannot convert a trailer into a constitutional shield simply by calling it “creative expression.” Nigerian law expressly contemplates regulation of cinematograph films. The Constitution itself recognises legislation regulating television and the exhibition of cinematograph films, while section 39 protects freedom of expression. The two principles therefore coexist: expression is protected, but film exhibition is also subject to regulation.

And where Parliament has legislated on same-sex relationships, the regulatory environment becomes even more significant. The Same Sex Marriage (Prohibition) Act 2013 prohibits same-sex marriage and civil unions, prohibits their solemnisation in places of worship, and contains provisions concerning the registration and operation of homosexual clubs and societies.

That legislation is part of Nigeria’s current legal order. A film regulator therefore has every reason to examine material that appears designed not merely to portray a controversial subject but to normalise, celebrate or promote conduct that Nigerian law and public policy treat differently from conventional marriage and family life.

Creative freedom is not cultural surrender. There is an increasingly common argument that censorship of such material amounts to an attack on artistic freedom. That argument is too simplistic.

Every society places boundaries around public entertainment. Violence, pornography, incitement, child exploitation and other forms of harmful content are routinely subjected to regulation. Nigeria is not unique in believing that what appears on a cinema screen or enters the homes of children can affect public culture. The question is therefore not whether filmmakers should be creative. They should. The question is whether creative freedom requires Nigeria to surrender its authority to determine the cultural standards governing publicly exhibited films. It does not.

A filmmaker who wants to challenge Nigerian values can make that argument. But challenging a society’s values does not create an automatic entitlement to regulatory approval. The distinction is important. A film can be controversial and still be subject to regulation. A filmmaker can possess expressive rights and still have compliance obligations.

The NFVCB’s own current practice demonstrates this regulatory function: it continues to approve films under age classifications, with its April 2026 listings showing films classified 12A, 15 and 18, among others. Classification is therefore not an admission that everything is permissible. It is an instrument through which the state decides what can be exhibited, to whom and under what conditions.

The constitutional argument does not end the debate. Section 39 of the Constitution protects freedom of expression, including the right to receive and impart ideas and information. But the same constitutional framework specifically recognises regulation of the exhibition of cinematograph films.

Section 45 further permits certain restrictions on fundamental rights where constitutionally justified, including restrictions connected with public order, public morality and the protection of other people’s rights.

That means the constitutional argument cannot simply be reduced to: “It is art; therefore, the government cannot interfere.” That is not what the Constitution says.

The stronger constitutional argument for regulation is that Nigeria has a legitimate interest in determining the conditions under which films are publicly exhibited, particularly where issues of children, sexual material, public morality and existing legislation arise.

The regulator should therefore be asking a harder question than whether a film is controversial: What exactly does the film depict, what does it promote, what audience is it targeting, how is it being distributed, and which applicable Nigerian rule governs the material?

If the trailer was distributed without the required approval, that is already a regulatory matter. The NFVCB expressly identifies unapproved trailers and promotional material as infringements.

Religion is not a footnote to Nigerian culture. There is another dimension that cannot honestly be removed from this debate: religion.

Nigeria’s cultural resistance to the normalisation of same-sex sexual relationships does not exist independently of its religious traditions. Christianity, tradition and Islam remain deeply influential in Nigerian public and family life.

Christian scripture contains explicit prohibitions of male same-sex sexual conduct. Leviticus 18:22 prohibits sexual relations between men, while Romans 1:26–27 describes same-sex sexual conduct in explicitly negative terms.

Islamic teaching likewise rejects homosexual sexual conduct. In Qur’an 7:80–81, the account of Prophet Lot describes his people as approaching men with sexual desire instead of women and characterises the conduct as transgression.

Beyond Christianity and Islam, Nigeria’s traditional belief systems have also historically placed marriage within a man-and-woman framework, linking it to family, procreation, lineage and the continuity of the community. Across many indigenous traditions, same-sex marriage is therefore viewed as inconsistent with established customs and social expectations surrounding family and kinship.

These teachings are not incidental to Nigerian society. They shape the moral convictions of millions of Nigerians.

Consequently, when a film seeks to present same-sex relationships as culturally normal or desirable, many Nigerians will reasonably see that not simply as entertainment but as an attempt to introduce a competing moral narrative into the public sphere.

That reaction should not automatically be dismissed as intolerance. Africa’s cultural sovereignty matters. There is also a wider African question. Nigeria does not have to import every cultural position developed elsewhere simply because it has become fashionable internationally.

African societies have their own histories, family structures, moral traditions and social institutions. Marriage, parenthood and kinship occupy central places in many African communities. Nigeria is entitled to protect and reproduce cultural values through its laws and institutions.

That does not mean every African person shares one view, nor does it justify hostility toward people because of their sexual identity. It means that a society can reject the promotion of a particular sexual ethic without denying the humanity of individuals. That distinction is essential.

Nigeria can say: we will not criminalise people merely for existing as individuals while simultaneously refusing to treat the promotion of same-sex relationships as an unquestionable cultural entitlement.

The NFVCB should be firm This is where Dr Shaibu Husseini and the NFVCB should be decisive. The Board should not be intimidated by the language of “creative freedom” if the material violates Nigerian film regulations or other applicable law. Nor should it allow the controversy to become a personality contest.

The strongest position is a legal one: identify the material, identify the applicable rule, identify the regulatory breach and enforce the law.

If the film is unapproved, say so. If the trailer was unlawfully distributed, act on that. If particular content violates classification standards, identify it. If the production contains prohibited or pornographic material, apply the relevant provisions.

And if its content is inconsistent with Nigeria’s established public-morality standards, the Board should explain precisely how those standards operate within its statutory mandate. That is not censorship for censorship’s sake. It is regulatory sovereignty.

Nigeria must decide what kind of culture it wants. The deepest issue here is therefore larger than one film.

Nollywood is one of Africa’s most powerful cultural industries. Its stories influence language, fashion, relationships, family expectations and ideas about what is normal. What appears repeatedly on screen eventually becomes part of the cultural imagination. That is why Nigeria should take seriously the difference between depicting a social reality and actively celebrating or normalising a contested moral position.

A filmmaker may argue that same-sex relationships exist in Nigeria. That is one question. Whether Nigerian institutions should use public exhibition platforms to normalise them is another.

Nigeria’s laws, religious traditions and dominant cultural values currently provide a clear basis for saying no; not without regard to the country’s regulatory framework and public standards.

The answer should come through lawful regulation. Creative freedom matters. So does cultural freedom.

And Nigeria has the right to decide that the preservation of its family values, religious convictions and established legal order is not a relic to be surrendered simply because a controversial film demands applause in the name of artistic expression.