In her latest role as Officer Kudirat in “Freedom Way,” the veteran actress declares her stance on what the duties of actors are in society.
Storytelling is not only about entertainment, but also about confronting reality and forcing society to take a hard look at itself. For veteran actress Bimbo Akintola, weighty films like “Freedom Way” have a rare ability to question power, provoke thought, and spark change.
Akintola, who has been a steady presence in Nollywood since her breakout role in 1995’s “Owo Blow,” plays Officer Kudirat in the 2024 AMVCA Award-winning film “Freedom Way.” It’s a character she sees as different from the other authority figures she’s portrayed: bolder, more politically direct, and firmly rooted in resistance.
The film tells the story of two Nigerian and a South African software developers who build a ride-hailing app for motorcycle (Okada) riders in Lagos. But their efforts are upended by harsh government regulations. As their tech startup collides with state apparatuses, the filmic narrative unfolds into a wider commentary on corruption, police brutality, and the frustration of youth.

Officer Kudirat (Bimbo Akintola) is sent to restore order after Officer Ajayi (Femi Jacobs) harasses the app developers – Themba, Eddie, and Tayo – during a routine stop. The character development presents Kudirat as one of the few voices of reason in a system riddled with abuse.
While Akintola has played authority figures before, such as a defense counsel in “Beyond the Verdict” (2007) and a police inspector in “To Kill a Monkey” this role stands out for its urgency and direct engagement with Nigeria’s current political climate.
Speaking exclusively to The Nollywood Reporter, Akintola explained what drew her to the project. “It was the script, not actually the character that drew me to the story. What they were talking about I feel was so important. Like I always tell people, if we don’t tell our story, somebody else will tell it for us.”

She emphasized the importance of Nigerians owning their narratives. “Stories shape the perception of what people think of a country. If these stories aren’t told by us, years from now, the truth of who we are – our culture, our humanity – will be distorted.”
She felt strongly about the film’s themes – migration, police brutality, and government oppression. “This ‘Japa,’ police brutality, and so many other themes that are part of ‘Freedom Way’ … I felt like they are so important to talk about. That’s what attracted me to the story.”
Despite its bold political message, Akintola didn’t hesitate to take the role. “I had no second thoughts,” she said. “Look, we can’t be scared. If you’re going to say something, say it. If we’re all scared, then there’ll be no future for our children. We might as well pack our bags and move to another country. But if you’re going to live in Nigeria, you better participate in changing Nigeria.”

She continued, “That doesn’t mean the truth doesn’t kill. But I wasn’t scared or bothered about the political stance of ‘Freedom Way.’ As far as I was concerned, we were saying something that needed to be said. Let’s say it.”
To Akintola, films like “Freedom Way” aren’t just symbolic; they are urgent tools for reflection and accountability. “The first thing I was taught in school is that we’re not just here to entertain but to educate and inform. We’re the mirror of society. We are supposed to reflect back the ills or the good of society.”
She asks, “If you see police brutality happening, do you walk past it because it’s not your relative [being dehumanized] or do you stop and take a stand? If 50 people stand up, the police can’t get away with it. That’s part of what I’m saying.”

Her words are rendered with palpable intensity because of her own experience with police harassment. She recounted a night during a shoot in Apapa when she, Tina Mba, and others were nearly shot at a checkpoint.
“It was late. We didn’t like where they lodged us, so we decided to go home. Around Omole Phase One, there’s this blackout point. Police and army were stationed there. They stopped us, asked where we were coming from. Before we could even answer, I received a slap. Then the officer fired his gun. What saved us was that he was too drunk to aim properly.”
She credits Femi Kuti for intervening. “He stopped. He saw women. He made sure we left there safely. We went to report at Area G in Ogba. The officer in charge told us, ‘We thank God you’re alive to tell the story because others are not.’ Even after that, I still say not all of the police are bad.”
She noted that many good officers go unseen, while the actions of a few bad actors tarnish the whole force. But she believes that to fix things, structural and educational reforms must come first.

“We still have people who are not educated enough to understand that they’re serving the public. Once someone has a little power, it goes to that person’s head. No matter what policies we put in place, if the people executing them are not educated, it will be a mess.”
She believes the onus of change doesn’t lie solely with the government. “It’s not by acting. It’s just by living here. As a Nigerian who lives here – not from diaspora – I’ve come to realize that we are the ones who must change this country. Not anyone else.”
Waiting on the government, she said, is not an option. “If we don’t care about this country the way we should, we shouldn’t expect anything great. Africa is next. Every country is looking to us. We have the soil. We have the numbers. But we’re not using our resources well.”

Reflecting on what she’d do if she were in a position of power, she was blunt. “I’m not asking anybody not to steal money. I’m just saying—can you work as well? We hear this money disappeared, that money disappeared. But can you, at least, work? Do something that changes lives.”
While she admits that no one knows what they’ll do until they’re in power, one thing she’s certain of is that she would work. “Maybe the opportunities will be so much I won’t be able to help myself,” she joked, “but one thing I do know is I’ll work. No matter what I do, I’ll make sure I work.”
To emerging actors taking on bold political stories like “Freedom Way,” Akintola offers simple advice: “Do not be worried. Go ahead and do it. Don’t be scared. We are actors. Our work is to tell what we see. We are tools to be used. Tell the story of our era. Fear not. Go ahead and do it.”