Afolabi Olalekan’s debut doesn’t sugarcoat the state’s failures, and for once, Nollywood lets the consequences play out.
The phrase “This is Nigeria” feels tired, yet it still captures so much. It shows up in conversations everywhere, often to explain away something unjust or absurd.
“This is Nigeria where the poor have no voice.” “This is Nigeria where life is cheap.” “This is Nigeria where the people paid to protect you are often the ones who hurt you.”
That’s exactly the world “Freedom Way” drops us into.
Produced under Blessing Uzzi’s Blu House Studios, “Freedom Way” follows Nigerian and South African software developers, Tayo (Jable Ogranya) and Themba (Jesse Suntele), as they try to launch a ride-hailing app for Okada riders. It’s an idea that’s supposed to solve problems—make booking easier, help riders earn more, maybe even improve the economy. But none of that matters to Senator Adewale (Akin Lewis), who dismisses the plan outright. “That would be like working with peasants,” he says.

From there, a government policy to ban Okadas arrives suddenly and conveniently, tanking the app’s future. The ripple effect spreads quickly—displacing riders like Abiola (Adebowale Adebayo), and eventually coming full circle to affect the senator’s own daughter (Teni Aladese).
Afolabi Olalekan, in his directorial debut, approaches “Freedom Way” with intention. The film doesn’t dance around its messages. He draws direct lines between policy and personal loss, and the references are clear: the Okada ban in Lagos, the toll it took, and the way government decisions often land hardest on the most vulnerable. He also uses his own experience with police harassment to shape the film’s more personal beats. The script, written by Blessing Uzzi, supports this well—unafraid to push scenes into uncomfortable territory. Visually, the film is energetic and deliberate, thanks to sharp cinematography and pacing that keeps things moving even when the plot slows.
Cobhams Asuquo’s score, performed by Precious Uju and 121Selah, comes in later but leaves an impression. The sound, along with tight editing and consistent visual choices, gives the film a pulse.

Some scenes stay with you. One in particular: a police officer shoots a motorcyclist, then casually tosses seized bikes into a van while the man bleeds out on the road. Dr. Chetta (Taye Arimoro), also the fiancé of Senator Adewale’s daughter, rushes him to the hospital and saves his life without a police report—only to be threatened with suspension for doing so. It’s a simple but effective question: How much is a life really worth?
Another strong moment comes when Abiola—now a police officer—gets off a bus, and the driver speeds off. At first, he’s confused the driver didn’t ask for fare. Then it clicks: he’s not just a man anymore, he’s a cop. In Lagos, “Na staff” is enough explanation. That’s how it works.
“Freedom Way” doesn’t tie its characters up in neat bows. Instead, it lets the web tighten. A senator’s careless policy ends up touching his own family. His daughter ends up giving a scholarship to the daughter of a rider her father’s decision harmed. That same rider, now a policeman, ends up accidentally shooting her. And because of another policy—one that blocks treatment without police clearance—she dies in a hospital while her fiancé stands frozen, unaware she’s the victim he just refused to help. It’s grim, but honest.

Femi Jacobs as Officer Ajayi brings grit to his role. His portrayal of a corrupt cop is painfully believable. When he says, “I go just waste all of you here and nobody go know,” it lands—not because it’s shocking, but because it’s familiar.
Adebowale Adebayo (Mr Macaroni) carries a lot of the film’s emotional weight. He moves naturally through grief, anger, and confusion. Meg Otanwa, as his wife Funke, is a solid counterpart. Teni Aladese also brings weight as Temi, delivering one of the film’s most heartbreaking moments in silence.
Not everyone hits the mark. Tayo and Themba, the developers behind the app, feel underplayed. Their performances are muted, and their frustration never fully lands. Mike Afolarin’s lawyer character feels miscast and underwritten.

The film’s structure starts wide, introducing characters who seem unrelated. But slowly, as the themes of corruption, overreach, and survival kick in, the threads connect. In that way, “Freedom Way” mirrors Lagos itself—a city of constant interaction, where everyone’s story brushes up against someone else’s.
Olalekan keeps the focus on cause and effect. And while some parts feel didactic or uneven, the film is grounded in reality—so much so that it doesn’t need big speeches to make its point. That’s what makes “Freedom Way” resonate. It isn’t neat, but neither is the world it’s depicting.
Release Date: July 18, 2025
Runtime: 1 hour, 25 minutes
Platform : Cinema
Director: Afolabi Olalekan
Cast: Adebowale Adedayo, Bimbo Akintola, Jesse Suntele, Meg Otanwa, Femi Jacobs, Mike Afolarin, Jable Ogranya, Teniola Aladese, Taye Arimoro, Tiwalola Adebola-Walter, Akin Lewis.
TNR Scorecard:
4/5/5