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Jude Chukwuka for many Nigerians is beyond an actor. In this interview with TOMI FALADE, the man, whom many acknowledge as a ‘Marlian’ speaks on his dedication to his craft, his family and his ideals.
I see that you post a lot about your family, tell us what life is like as a grandfather and a family man.
This is my second marriage, which is why I celebrate it. My first marriage crashed in 2011. I thought I was still in it, but I didn’t realise it had already failed. I met this wonderful woman, who had also been through heartbreak. People think we work well together because we have both been married before. They see us together and assume we are a perfect match, not knowing that we are simply managing our brokenness. It has been wonderful, and the experience will not break me because I am a very optimistic person. I always look at the bright side of life, no matter how difficult things get.
As a grandfather, it has been a wonderful experience. Seven years ago, I had my first grandchild, and it felt like witnessing scripture being fulfilled in my life. The Bible says, ‘You will see your children and your children’s children.’ That moment struck me.
The first time I paid attention to you was when you came out and declared yourself a Marlian. I was amazed. That movement seems to have faded naturally. But I’m curious what were the qualities that made you declare yourself a Marlian?
Very frankly, the movement may have fizzled out, but the issues he raised are still very much present. Azeez Fashola saw a weakness in the system and took advantage of it. The system is still just as weak. It was the whole Mohbad situation that caused the movement to die down, not because the issues have disappeared.
I still believe I would rather have Azeez Fashola than some of these so-called leaders. Take, for example, that Niger Delta oil company executive, the one who fainted at the Senate hearing after spending N1.3 billion to build a plywood bridge. I would rather have 20 Naira Marleys than one of them because the damage that ‘gentle-looking devil’ is doing to Nigeria is far worse than anything a million Naira Marleys could cause. People focus on symptoms instead of the real problem. Naira Marley came from a system that had already failed. The real question is, what caused the system to fail? It’s the leadership.
At this point, I have no bias. The problems are still there, we’ve just glossed over them. We’re relieved that the person who forced us to confront our reality has faded away, but that doesn’t mean the problems have disappeared. People complain that someone doesn’t wear a belt, but the ones in suits and ties are the ones destroying Nigeria. The clean-shaven ones, the so-called ‘responsible’ ones, are the ones looting the country. Their children don’t have jobs, yet they are millionaires. Their children don’t work in Europe, yet they are spending dollars. Explain that to me. The real problems are still there. Let’s leave Azeez Fashola, a.k.a. Naira Marley, out of it. He only exposed what was already there, and I simply rode on that wave.
Did it hurt me that he was implicated in everything that happened? That the police investigation later found him innocent? No, it didn’t surprise me. I knew from the start that it was an attack on his person. We talked, and I understood that people were just taking advantage of the situation to elevate themselves. It was a mob effect, nobody stopped to reason. If one person said, ‘Let’s go in this direction,’ the crowd followed blindly.
It got so bad that three years ago, in January, I went to Ikorodu for a shoot, and some boys showed up with machetes, accusing my son of killing Mohbad. And I told them, ‘He is Azeez. How are we related? He is not my son. He is from Abeokuta, I am from Delta State. What’s the connection?’ But that’s how mob mentality works. People just repeat things they’ve heard without verifying them.
Did it hurt me? Yes. It hurt me that the situation destroyed the career of someone who played an important role as the ‘negative’ part of our conscience. He made people question, ‘How did this guy attain this status?’ Funny enough, when the ruling party wanted to close their campaign, they invited him. He was the one who closed their campaign at Teslim Balogun Stadiumin Lagos. Yet, they called him irresponsible. If they didn’t believe in his influence and followership, they wouldn’t have invited him. I don’t understand why we keep living in bubbles.
I am very fascinated by the fact that you speak two languages. I want to believe it’s just two Nigerian languages.
Two Nigerian languages, but I also dabble in a few others, not as proficient, though.
I grew up in Lagos, and back then, our fathers didn’t sit you down to teach you a language. They just assumed you understood it and spoke to you naturally in their native tongue.
Because they communicated with us in those languages, we had no choice but to understand so we could respond. Unlike this generation, if someone talks to your child, you might even call the police. Our generation was different. We just had to understand.
So, howdidyougetintoNollywood? Howdid you make your way in, and what was your entry point?
Acting had always been a part of me. I started acting in the ‘90s and early 2000s. I remember being involved with the Holy Family Society.
The play was based on the biblical story where Jesus asks, ‘Who is your neighbour?’ It was about a man who went on a journey, was attacked by robbers, and left beaten. A priest walked by and ignored him, a rabbi did the same, but a stranger came to his rescue. Funny enough, I played one of the robbers who beat the man up. On the day of the performance, I was feeling a bit under the weather, but that experience was where I can trace my interest in acting back to.
I left it for a while, then got involved in church drama at New York State Baptist Church in 1992. Fortunately for me, Israel Ebo, who was also a member of the church, noticed my talent. He was the drama director and told me, Your performance is beyond just church drama. He had a project at the time, Elechi Amadi’s Concubine. He believed I had potential and gave me a role. And that was how the journey started.
I read one of your past interviews where you mentioned that you occasionally take your wife to movie sets. Has that ever been an issue for you when choosing or taking on a role?
I’m an actor. Just like a gynecologist examines a woman professionally, regardless of how his wife might feel about it, acting is my profession. When I take on a role, I have to perform it convincingly, even to the point where my wife might feel a bit jealous. That means I’ve done my job well and delivered what the director asked of me.
If a script requires a certain scene, I should be able to execute it professionally. That’s why I sometimes have my wife on set, so she can see firsthand that it’s just acting. Once filming is done, I go back to being her husband, and we move on.
I’m not afraid to take on roles, I’m an actor.
Going back to the beginning of your journey asanactor, youmentionedatatimethatyou completed your accountancy degree and earned your certificate. How did your parents react to you choosing a different path?
Funny enough, my older sister also studied accountancy, which influenced my decision to study it. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t for me. It was difficult to tell my family, but they always knew that I had a different spark, something outside of numbers and ledgers.
When I finally told them I couldn’t continue with accountancy, my sister, in particular, was very disappointed. She had even secured a job for me at an insurance company, but I turned it down. I told her I wasn’t built for an 8-to-5 job, that if I tried it, I would wither away.
During my tough times, my sister often reminded me of the opportunity I passed up. But I stayed on my path, paid my dues, and earned my stripes in the industry. Where I am today is nothing but the grace of God.
Looking at the industry now, there’s growing concern that our films should do more to promote our cultural heritage. With the rise of social media and globalisation, many young people are losing touch with their roots. Some parents even take pride in the fact that their children can’t speak Yoruba well, which is deeply troubling.
Professor Sophie Oluwole once said, no matter how intelligent you are, you cannot tie sticks together without a rope. In this context, our language is that rope, it holds everything together. Yet, we’re gradually losing it.
That said, not all hope is lost. The world is evolving, and we’re moving with it. But the real question is, how are we evolving, and what do we hope to achieve by doing so?
I believe our industry has reached a plateau. Yes, we celebrate recent successes, but can we sustain them? I won’t mention specific titles, but some Yoruba films have made headlines recently. The real test will be whether they can replicate that success in the next two years.
What will truly push us forward is finding a way to incorporate technology into telling our cultural stories. The Chinese have done it. The Indians have done it. Unlike America, where any culture can be adopted, countries like China and India have remained deeply rooted in their traditions while embracing modernisation. They continue to produce films in their native languages despite globalisation.
Some argue that China and India have the population advantage, that their films can break even by selling within their own country. While that may be true, we must remember that over 140 million Yoruba people live outside Nigeria. If we leverage technology to tell our stories well, we can target them and their communities, keeping our language and heritage alive.
Another challenge is funding. When the government allocates N10 billion for film production across various producers, what kind of films do we expect to come out of that? It’s simply not enough.
It pains me when I see people celebrating N1.2 billion in box office returns. At today’s exchange rate of N1,680 per dollar, that’s less than $715,000. That’s not even enough to make a high-risk film by global standards.
English (US) ·