The way womxn are depicted in film can say a lot about how a culture views them, and this is especially obvious in the realm of horror. Horror is a body genre, which means it explores topics that often do not get talked about in polite society– sexuality, bodily fluids, and gore. When you combine that with patriarchal ideals of womaxnhood–how a womxn is supposed to look, act and speak–then it gets a little weird.
We don’t generally celebrate Halloween in Nigeria, but we do have an interesting relationship with the horror genre, particularly as it relates to womxn. Or at least, we used to–the Nigerian film industry isn’t really putting out horror the way that it used to, and I think that’s kind of a shame. I want to look at two Hollywood horror films from the 90s – Karishika, 1996 and Nneka The Pretty Snake, 1992 – to get a better sense of what kind of fears we were working through culturally, and what role womxn played in these films.
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KARISHIKA (1996)
The Nigerian horror queen herself, the OG queen of the night. Karishika is an interesting figure in Nigerian culture, kind of a shorthand for a womxn who is up to no good. You say the name and most people have an image in their head of a womxn who dances with the devil, and drinks the blood of men–Falz even has a whole song about her. All of our cultural understanding of Karishika comes from the 1996 film of the same name, portrayed in all her crazy-eyed glory by Becky Ngozi Okorie. I think that’s interesting considering how much of the film isn’t even about the titular princess of darkness–in fact, she’s less of a character in the film and more like a plot device, showing up to sow a little chaos before disappearing again. The film itself doesn’t really have a plot, or important characters to care about, because it’s really just a cautionary tale–and in a Nigerian context, that’s not a bad thing.
Karishika is a story about resisting evil, which is defined by the film as desire- desire for worldly possessions, fornication, money and status. Karishika is sent to earth by Lucifer to seduce and destroy both men and womxn, and there’s a lot to unpack with how she goes about doing this. With the men, it’s pretty straightforward–she has sex with them. It doesn’t even take that much effort. In one unforgettable scene, she interrupts a pastor mid-prayer by taking off his clothes, and his desire for her is so strong he starts to pray to Satan instead of Jesus.
The womxn of the film are similarly seduced by Karishika, not with sex, but with the promise of children. There are two womxn other than Karashika who take up most of the screen time, and both are wives who are struggling to give birth. They are told to trust in God, but they feel pressured to become mothers as soon as possible–for one womxn, if she cannot give birth, her husband will have to take on a second wife. This desire drives both womxn away from the church, and towards the satanic. There is a lot to unpack about the way the film positions traditional spiritual practices such as animal sacrifice, witch doctors, and even the goddess Oshun (depicted as a Mami Watah spirit) as evil; and there is definitely a lot to say about how a womxn’s inability to give birth is depicted as something that she just needs to pray over, or something that she must be punished for if she seeks out other routes to motherhood (one of the womxn who visits the witch doctor gives birth to yam and is abandoned by her husband…a lot to unpack there too…)
Karishika herself is an interesting character- she wields her sexuality like a weapon, and she uses it to control men (which is iconic, love that for her), but she is not really in control. She’s really just following orders from a man (or, a Satan), and in the end, she’s defeated by a man. As one of the earlier Nigerian horror films, she sets the stage for a lot of evil womxn to come.
2. Nneka the Pretty Serpent (1994)
Another classic–Nneka the Pretty Snake is a lot like Karishika–they’ve both got some truly amazing special effects (there’s an excellent GIF of Nneka morphing into a snake floating around the internet) and both stories are centred around womxn using witchcraft to control men (again…we love to see it). Clearly, Nigerian filmmakers in the 90’s were working through some anxieties about powerful womxn. Nneka, unlike Karishika, is a more fully realized character with her own motivations. Satan didn’t have to ask her to seduce married men- she just does it, because she wants to. When confronted by Mrs Ogbonna, the wife of the man she’s dating, she just laughs in her face- and it’s that kind of audacity that makes her such a fun character. Even if you don’t approve of what she’s doing, you want to see what she’s going to do next. A lot of that is due to Ndidi Obi, who plays Nneka, and the glamorous, unbothered air that she brings to the character. When Nneka says, “I always get my way”, you believe her.
I also think it’s interesting how, unlike Karishika, Nneka doesn’t actually have sex with any of the men she engages with- or at least not any sex that we see. She flirts with men, tells them that they are handsome and presses herself up to them when they dance, but she doesn’t do any more until she’s gotten what she wants- whether it’s jewellery or financial assistance. She doesn’t even really seem to like the men she’s involved with, she just tolerates them until she’s done with them. When Mr Ogbonna is unable to stop his wife from bothering her, she uses witchcraft to kill both his wife and his son and then calmly tells him not to call her anymore. When she interacts with a banker that she needs to help her set up a domiciliary account, she laughs that most womxn are familiar with: when he’s talking shit but he hasn’t swiped his card yet, so you’ll tolerate it for now.
Nneka the Pretty Snake is also different from Karishika in the way it handles the relationships between womxn. Karishika only interacted with womxn to manipulate them, but Nneka has actual girlfriends. They defend each other, they give each other advice, they trash talk men. I think that’s meant to be part of the horror, that these womxn are so callous about using men, about throwing them away and finding a new one when they need one. I’ve spoken about Nneka in terms of how easy she is to root for, but I want to make it clear that you’re not meant to be rooting for Nneka. I think for a lot of younger generations of Nigerian womxn and LGBT people, there’s been a certain appreciation for old school Nollywood vixens (think of the popularity of Instagram pages like nollybabes and yung.nollywood). Maybe it’s an aesthetic appreciation (after all, they were serving LOOKS), but it could also be that we see ourselves in these womxn who have been demonized for their sexual expression and their ambition.
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I’m not quite sure why we don’t see as many horror films coming out of Nigeria in the same vein as a Nneka the Pretty Snake or Karishika, with an emphasis on visual effects and stories centred around womxn just being messy (with the help of the dark lord Satan). The closest we’ve had in the last ten years is Sylvia (2018), but that was more a thriller than anything else. These days, Nigerian films tend to be family-friendly dramas or romantic comedies. Maybe we’re just in a feel-good period of filmmaking, creating images that imagine a squeaky-clean Nigeria where nothing all that bad can happen, and I can definitely see the appeal for that. But we don’t live in a squeaky-clean Nigeria, and the point of horror is to give space to some of the scariest parts of being alive- sickness and death and, yes, giving birth to tubers of yam.
If you’re looking for something to watch with friends that’s a little more creepy (and very silly, in its own way), then I’d definitely recommend old Nollywood horror, like Nneka and Karishika. If you want to have a whole marathon, maybe also check out Diamond Ring (1998), and The Billionaire’s Club (2003). Happy watching, and happy Halloween!
