Review: Baby Farm on Netflix Is a Haunting Thriller That Mirrors a Terrifying Reality By Sahndra Fon Dufe
- Sahndra Fon Dufe
- Apr 16
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 20
There is a thriving market for babies among couples who are struggling to bear their own children. They are willing to pay between 1 million naira (€576) and 2 million naira (€1,152) for a baby- DW
What’s dope and unapologetically Black on Netflix right now? I’ll tell you this much: there are shows you watch to unwind, and then there are shows like Baby Farm—a five-episode Nigerian crime thriller that doesn’t just rattle your nerves, it leaves them in a puddle on the floor. Produced by Inem King and directed by Kayode Kasum (with Mo Abudu as executive producer) for EbonyLife Studios, Baby Farm isn’t here to coddle your sensibilities. It’s not just entertainment—it’s disruption with a side of necessary discomfort. Anyone remember The Handmaid Tale? Yikes. This show is something like that and more-
So, TUDUM—don’t you dare drop that remote. Put the kids to bed, silence your group chats, lock the door, and brace yourself. No loud alarms, no emotional support snacks, and absolutely no weak nerves. Because once Baby Farm starts rolling, there’s no turning away.
Beyond the gripping cinematography and intense performances, what makes Baby Farm so hard to watch is that it isn’t fiction. Not really. A quick Google search, driven by my own unease after watching, led me to reports like DW’s investigation into Nigeria’s baby factories, revealing cold, hard numbers and staggering statistics that chilled my blood. According to DW, Nigerian police have confirmed over 300 cases in recent years, with estimates suggesting that upwards of 500 children fall prey to these operations annually. As one stark observation in the report states, "the true scale of the operation is likely underestimated.
" In 2023 alone, Nigerian authorities uncovered over 20 Baby factories across various states, rescuing more than 150 women and children from these illicit operations."
- DW’s Investigation on Why Nigeria's 'baby factories' continue to thrive
The fact that such operations have been uncovered by the Nigerian police—and that many still go undetected—makes this series not just necessary, but urgent. With that in mind, let’s take a look at the plot:
BABY FARM ON NETFLIX- THE PLOT:
Set in Lagos, mostly around Victoria Island (because of course trauma always has real estate), the series follows Adanna, a pregnant, wide-eyed Johnny-just-come-Lagos babe from the East who naively entrusts her unborn twins to what looks like a reputable “oyinbo-run” NGO. Cute logo, kind blue-eyed nurse, and other doe-eyed Nigerian women in the background—what could possibly go wrong? Oh, just everything. She soon finds herself trapped in a baby trafficking ring run by the all-too-creepy Evans Foundation. As the sinister truth unravels, we, the audience, are forced to confront a real-life horror: baby factories aren’t the stuff of wild imagination. They exist. According to Nigeria’s National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons (NAPTIP), over 200 such facilities have been uncovered in the last five years alone—and that's just the ones the police happened to find. The demand? Alive and kicking. The system? Still sleeping. So yes, while the plot twists and production design will keep you locked in, it’s the horrifying reality behind the fiction that really slaps you across the face.
BABY FARM ON NETFLIX- CHILLING PARALLELS & CASTING DIARIES:
The series draws chilling parallels to real-life horrors, grounded by a powerful performance from Onyinye Odokoro as Adanna—a woman pushed to the edge, yet never backing down. But it’s Genoveva Umeh, familiar to many from Far From Home, —that left me cold. Her portrayal of Ebun isn’t just haunting—it’s the kind of performance that burrows under your skin and refuses to leave: layered, grounded, and absolutely haunting.
Her final scene, (season 5) “dying” next to Adanna’s newborns, isn’t just tragic—it’s a soul-shattering moment that truly lingers. You don’t just watch her almost die. You feel her leave.
In one gut-wrenching scene Ebun and another woman, played brilliantly by Kiki Omeili, attempt to dispose of a nosy celeb blogger’s body (played by Folu Storms) by wrapping it in a curtain. When a startled neighbor catches them in the act and they casually ask, “Do you want to help?”—I felt a chill run through my veins. It’s morbidly casual. It’s genius acting—and well-written scripting that provokes the mind. It’s terrifyingly real!
The protagonist Onyinye Odokoro is also undeniably ‘a star to watch’. While I wasn’t overly familiar with her work before Baby Farm, her portrayal of Adanna commands attention from the very first frame. She doesn’t just hold the screen—she locks you in with it. In one particularly annoying line, Dr. Evans’ wife dismissively refers to her as “ native, and smart.” (Gee, thanks?) But Adanna’s story is all too familiar: she comes to Lagos searching for the man she loved—or what looked like love, sounded like love, and very much felt like lust in the type of shiny wrapper that leaves her pregnant with twins, alone, and cornered by a society more eager to take than to help at the “farm.”
From that point on, Adanna is a woman on a mission—whether alive or dead—to save her twin daughters. And it’s a gripping performance to watch. Along the way, she forms a friendship with Ebun, the long-standing resident and unsettling teacher’s pet of the so-called “maternity home a la Get-out.” Together, they hatch an escape plan that feels more like a prison break from hell.
What makes it all the more jarring is that Baby Farm’s protagonist is from Abia State—one of several southeastern states, including Lagos, Anambra, Ebonyi, Enugu, and Imo, where baby factories have been most prevalent, according to investigative reports. Horror, unfortunately, isn’t confined to fiction.
The rest of the casting is near flawless. A standing ovation to the casting director, who brought together powerhouses like Rita Dominic, Joseph Benjamin, and the Megamind-like “bad guy” Dr. Oliver Evans and his wife, the chillingly calm Sister Barb, portrayed by Langley Kirkwood and Jenny Stead, respectively. But special credit must go to the ensemble of young girls trapped in the baby farm—each of them delivered nuanced, heartbreakingly real performances. These girls are not just background—they are the beating heart of this story. From Onyinye Odokoro as Adanna, Genoveva Umeh as Ebun, Maggi Osuome as Eniye, Uzoamaka Onuoha as Comfort, Osereme Inegbenebor as Aishat, Ruby Akubueze as Emem, Iveren Antiev as Itunu, to Inem King as Crystal—their portrayals will stay with you long after the credits roll. They are joined by an equally powerful supporting cast of “Baby Makers”: Adunolaoluwa Osilowo, Winifred Obam, Susan Ibanga, Miracle Gabriel, Oluwaferanmi Adeyemi, Jumoke Omojola, Sylvia Ebere, Fadesaye Olater Olagbegi, and Chidimma Udemadu.
Now let’s talk about that plot twist. Spoiler alert—sorry, not sorry.
Throughout the series, Mrs. Evans is painted as the classic “God-fearing” woman: always bowing before the cross, whispering prayers, and playing the twisted BUT dutiful wife. But let’s be real—she’s just as complicit, even if under some warped doctrine of submission. Her husband? A full-blown slave plantation master cosplaying as a doctor, complete with all the control, cruelty, and God complex those types tend to have.
So when the twist comes—when this so-called submissive wife uses her well-practiced demureness to lure him into a room under the guise of searching for money, only to set him ablaze in real time—it’s not just shocking. It’s deliciously expressive. I was speechless. Literally.Alexa, play Speechless by Michael Jackson. That moment? Pure, unfiltered retribution. Mind-blowing.
" The desperation that drives the baby factory has two sets of players. The first set is driven by the fear of poverty as a result of the socio-economic conditions of Nigeria…Those who own these facilities where the girls are kept, the men who impregnate them, and the girls themselves are all pushed into it by poverty, "
Clare Ohunayo, Nigerian Activist- DW’s Investigation on Why Nigeria's 'baby factories' continue to thrive
As Season One wraps with a bit of twisted justice (because even karma needed a plot twist), we’re left with bigger questions: Is this nightmare just Nigeria’s dirty secret, or are baby farms alive and thriving across East and West Africa? What kind of broken system lets this fester under the guise of “care”? And honestly—how many officials have to turn away, eyes wide shut, for something this evil to keep running?
In many ways, Baby Farm is more than just a show. It’s a call to awareness. And as far as thrillers go, it hits every mark—shock, suspense, and sobering truth.
BFW Verdict:
Baby Farm is a must-watch, but proceed with caution. The series contains intense scenes of sexual violence, slavery-like conditions, and heart-wrenching moments that may be triggering for some viewers. It's a powerful, necessary viewing experience that sheds light on a grim reality.
Where to Watch: Netflix
Why These Films Matter
These titles exemplify the richness of Black talent and storytelling in entertainment. From animated adventures to hard-hitting dramas and so on, April 2025 is shaping up to be a month where Black voices take center stage, making it a great time to tune in and celebrate the diverse stories that are being told.
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