Etim Effiong’s crime blockbuster The Herd is a thoughtful, patriotic and deeply insightful film. More than entertainment, it is a bold artistic intervention—one that mirrors Nigeria’s worsening insecurity and exposes how members of a major ethnic group, particularly some Fulani herdsmen, have terrorized innocent Nigerians over the years.
The movie brilliantly reflects the socio-cultural flaws embedded within parts of our national fabric, while exploring universal themes such as family, greed, betrayal, love and marriage. Its cinematography is commendably top-tier; its plot and setting are well-grounded; and it delivers a timely message to a society that desperately needs to confront uncomfortable truths.
While The Herd is not without imperfections, Effiong deserves accolades for his courage, creativity and unflinching commitment to telling a story many would rather avoid.
However, the reactions of some public figures, politicians, opinion leaders and members of certain ethnic blocs have been disappointing—indeed, appalling. Their hypocritical and cynical attacks on the movie simply for “calling a spade a spade” reveal a disturbing unwillingness to face the realities Nigeria is grappling with.
Drama and filmmaking—literature that walks and talks—are major genres of creative expression. Beyond entertainment, literature exists to educate, inform, preserve culture and, importantly, expose societal ills. To criticise The Herd for highlighting a truth we all know is to deny one of the oldest functions of storytelling.
A major criticism of the film is that it stereotypes the Fulani and is “ill-timed,” considering the rise in insecurity across the country. But these arguments are not only illogical and biased—they expose how retrogressive and dishonest we have become as a nation.
For years, violent elements among Fulani herders have kidnapped, raped, massacred and destroyed farmlands—the livelihood of many. Their actions have cut lives short, shattered hopes, crippled communities and left countless families traumatized. Farming has become a dangerous venture, with devastating consequences for food security and national development.
Yes, I acknowledge that the film may cast a heavy shadow on the peace-loving Fulani who are not part of these atrocities. But what about the souls violently sent to early graves? The children made orphans? The women widowed? The communities deserted? Are their stories not worth telling?
Truth is a central requirement of any great story. And films, as historical records, are not obligated to be uplifting—they must sometimes be heartbreaking, shocking or uncomfortable. What matters is honesty. As a society, we must support storytelling that prioritizes truth and sheds light on the realities many victims can no longer speak of.
Anuoluwapo Lebi is a Journalist, public speaker, writer, content creator and a social media strategist:
anuoluwapolebi@gmail.com
