“Thicker Than Water” Signals a Promising Future for Nigerian Psychological Horror

Nemsia Studios must have heard the egregious reviews painted on Ms. Kanyin and decided they needed a rematch with Prime Video. And this time, they’ve redeemed themselves with Thicker Than Water a psychological horror film that’s the perfect blend of gore, tension, and suspense. 

Ese (Adaobi Dibor), a curious journalist with an eye for detail, travels to a remote village to uncover the truth about her estranged sister, Onome (Bimbo Ademoye), who disappeared without a trace two years earlier. Everyone in the community speaks fondly of Onome, but no one is willing to discuss her disappearance. Ese’s only ally is Kazeem (Taye Arimoro), Onome’s neighbour, who offers to help her piece together what really happened. Through Onome’s detailed journal, Ese begins to uncover the disturbing truth about her sister’s past. Onome’s life with her fiancé, Ola (Damilola “The Goldfish” Ogunsi), once perfect, deteriorated after she became pregnant and Ola insisted she get an abortion. She was happiest away from her family, chasing a bigger life and avoiding the grim reality of caring for their ailing mother.

As the story unfolds, Ese realizes that Onome might not be dead at all and worse, she might be leading her on a wild goose chase. The omens, the signs, the text messages they all point to one horrifying truth: Onome has been orchestrating everything. 

In a devastating twist, Ese becomes the sacrifice in Onome’s ritual to the goddess Ajelesi. Onome, revealed as Ajelesi’s “chosen one”, transfers her soul into Ese’s body, taking on a new vessel. Kazeem, once thought to be an ally, is unmasked as Ola the same fiancé who betrayed Onome and is now her accomplice. In the end credits, the two walk away together, their betrayal rewarded with the “gift” of immortality.

Thicker Than Water thrives on suspense and manages to keep the audience glued from start to finish—a rare achievement for Nigerian horror, where pacing often falters. What begins as a “where is Onome?” story quickly transforms into a chilling psychological nightmare reminiscent of an episode of American Horror Story: Freak Show. The revelation that Onome is not a Jane Doe but rather the manipulative architect of her sister’s demise is the kind of twist that stays with you. It’s shocking, it’s brutal, and it’s brilliant. No one expects that level of depravity between sisters estranged or not which makes the film all the more memorable.

Director Yomi E. Adejumo seems to have studied the greats like Get Out, The Shining, and Psycho. From the opening sequence, the film haunts. It begins subtly, with Ese questioning her sanity as strange occurrences plague her sister’s apartment—a leaking roof that suddenly floods the room, eerie sounds, and nightmares where Onome beckons her to “come find me.” As the story progresses, the unease grows heavier. The lighting, the sound design (an area where the film excels), and the pacing all work hand in hand to heighten the tension and dread. Ese starts the film trying to uncover what happened to Onome, but ends up realizing that the real danger is Onome herself.

Another daring element is the film’s inclusion of AI in its narrative a bold and uncharted move for Nollywood. It’s used to illustrate Ajelesi’s mythology, connecting the ancient goddess’s story to the events involving Onome, Ese, Kazeem, and Ola. Whether the use of AI is a creative breakthrough or an experiment remains to be seen, but here, it works. It enriches the film’s backstory and adds depth to the supernatural thread tying the characters together.

The film’s strength lies not just in its scares but in its emotional undercurrent. It weaves together the past and present to reveal the fractured relationship between Onome and Ese. Their bond, once strong, was corroded by resentment and responsibility. Raised by a single mother, the sisters were close as children until adulthood and hardship drove them apart. Ese stayed behind to care for their dying mother, while Onome chose ambition over duty, a decision that permanently severed their bond. Beneath all its psychological horror, Thicker Than Water is also a story about family, loyalty, and how far blood ties can stretch before they snap. The title couldn’t have been more fitting.

The performances elevate the film even further. Adaobi Dibor is phenomenal as Ese: vulnerable yet fierce, grounding the story with an authenticity that pulls the audience into her fear. Bimbo Ademoye, as Onome, is magnetic and terrifying in equal measure, proving yet again her range as one of Nollywood’s most skilled actresses. Taye Arimoro delivers a smooth, duplicitous performance that keeps viewers guessing, and Damilola Ogunsi’s portrayal of Ola adds just the right touch of menace.

Nemsia Studios deserves praise for its restraint. Rather than relying on glamour or glossy aesthetics, the film embraces simplicity—small village settings, minimal characters, and solid acting. It’s proof that a strong story doesn’t need extravagant sets or designer wardrobes to shine. By focusing on tension and skill, Thicker Than Water succeeds where many horror films falter.

While the film almost slips into a rushed ending like Ms. Kanyin, it saves itself with enough explanation to tie its threads together. Still, one lingering question remains: how did Onome become Ajelesi’s chosen one in the first place? If more screentime had been devoted to answering that, the film might have achieved perfection. Nonetheless, it remains an impressive feat—dark, atmospheric, and emotionally layered.

Together, Thicker Than Water is a striking psychological horror that showcases how far Nigerian filmmakers can go when they take risks with genre storytelling. It’s bold, haunting, and beautifully unsettling. And, honestly? Unsettling is sometimes always better. 

“Thicker Than Water” is available to watch on Prime Video. 

Release Date: October 10, 2025
Runtime: 1 hour, 46 minutes, and 57 seconds
Streaming Service: Prime Video
Director: Yomi E. Adejumo
Cast: Adaobi Dibor, Bimbo Ademoye, Taye Arimoro, and Damilola “The Goldfish” Ogunsi