The Herd Review: A Maudlin Sojourn Saved By Thematic Excellence

The road to cinematic hell is paved with good intentions for the audience. With Daniel Etim Effiong’s The Herd, we are left in purgatory, soaking in the film’s overarching intent (as stated in the very first line of its disclaimer), yet still burned by inattention to detail, flat performances, and other pointers that this is unmistakably a mainstream Nollywood crime thriller. 

The Herd follows newlyweds, Fola (Kunle Remi) and Derinsola (Genoveva Umeh), and best man Gosi (Daniel Etim-Effiong), who are on their way from the wedding venue, when they are attacked by a group of gunmen disguised as herders. In the aftermath of that encounter, Gosi’s wife, Adamma (Linda Ejiofor-Suleiman), has to shelve recent awareness of her breast cancer remission to deal with securing a ransom. For Garba (Adam Garba), the lead SDS Officer on the case, and a new father, rescuing the victims would be a big break. Standing in the way of any such resolution are Halil (Abba A. Zakky) and his breakaway kidnapping ring, whose veneer of control masks struggles within the camp. It’s a race against time complicated by secrets and betrayals, culminating in a rescue operation that’s not at all what either side expected. 

Through these characters, we gain a broad sense of Nigeria’s socio-economic landscape. We see that bigotry is an inanity common across class and tribe divides. We are forced to acknowledge the insecurity crisis in a country numbed to violence. Exactly one month after the film’s theatrical release, some travellers on the Ilorin-Kabba road in Kwara State were attacked and kidnapped similarly. To add to the surrealism, Kwara borders Ekiti, where the film is set, so the relevance cannot be called into question. It is this heft, this role as a rumination on Nigeria’s insecurity crisis, that should have translated to proper execution. Instead, they place us in a placid purgatory of purpose, seeing what the director intended to achieve, but missed. 

The devil in the details here is an unrepentant Dante-esque daemon. It shows up in disregard for conventions, like the idea that the couple in a Yoruba union can escape from their wedding. Or the manner in which blood continuously sprays from a dead body that’s being hacked into, bypassing physics and gross anatomy. It shows up in disregard for realistic costume and set designs: The SDS, this fictional unit based on the Department of State Services, sport badges and cordons off their crime scene with yellow tape. Buyers come for the body parts of dead victims wearing heavy, elaborate traditional wooden masks. Outside of the first visit after the abduction, every other time we see Derinsola’s mother, Mrs Cole (Mercy Aigbe) and Fola’s parents, the Adebiyis (Patrick Doyle and Jaiye Kuti), at the SDS Office, they’re well dressed and refreshed; Mrs Cole even has a full beat when she drops off the ransom. The kidnappers’ den is far from improvised, replete with a concrete tower, despite being close enough to populated areas that any such construction would draw suspicion. 

To complete its task, the daemon shows up in narrative gaps. We are far into the film when a kidnapper finally makes gestures to bridge the language barrier. Up until then, there was little to indicate that the kidnappers weren’t understood. In one scene, Derinsola’s face contorts into a sheet of terror when Halil declares himself her husband despite not knowing a spick of Hausa. It’s again observed when Habiba (Amal Umar), the only person in the ring who speaks English, overhears an escape plan. Never mind that, beforehand, the camera pans to show the captives waiting for her to walk out of earshot before speaking. 

Image: Black Film Wire / A still from the ‘Escape Plan’ scene. 

The Herd falters at the behest of Director Daniel Etim and Script Writer (Lani Aisida). It features an ensemble cast of established faces and breakout stars, yet this wealth of expertise is evident in only a few scenes. Over-reliance on melodrama kills pivotal moments. The quartet of Genoveva Umeh, Abba A. Zaky, Daniel Etim, and Amar Umar are convincing in their respective roles, particularly Amar, who transmutes Habiba’s cold but conflicted mien. Tina Mba and Norbert Young are stellar as Gosi’s parents, efficiently conveying their shocking outlook on his marriage in just a few minutes. But it’s still not enough, as elsewhere, certain actors inhabited the same roles we’ve seen them take on time and again. 

The dialogue in this film is unnatural at times, exemplified in the interrogation scenes. Plot holes and uneven writing riddle acts. We’re forced to believe a phone was traced to locate the abductees, even though it’s abandoned several meters away from the eventual face-off scene. There’s no explanation for the SDS’s intervention in another state. Somehow, everything works out, and in one of the greatest badly-choreographed Deus ex machina sequences of our time, a single gunshot saves the day. It is well with our souls. 

Image: Black Film Wire / “One shot to save them all”

For all its flaws, the movie excels as a thematic exploration of ideology in Nigeria. This is a country of indoctrinated folk who nevertheless weigh sins on subjective scales: kidnappers who can commit murder but frown at stealing, clergy men complicit in the organ trade but devoted to service, and seemingly educated elite who uphold beliefs like the Osu caste system. These are not exaggerations. Ordinarily, these plot points should provoke quality conversations on our moral bankruptcy as a people. On the contrary, what followed has been even more divisive discourse. There is no country in the world where filmmakers operate outside of their reality. Space opera sci-fi films still touch on themes pertaining to society. So one can only wonder what was expected from a movie about a persistent crisis. 

When The Herd shines, we see the country at its bleakest. Only a minute population can afford the exorbitant ransoms demanded. Some families pay the requested sums only to receive pictures of their dead relative. And will they be resilient through it all? Yes, because hope is inherently all we have left. It will get better. It has to get better. Why else would an abductee share testimonies of church members who escaped such a fate? 

Image: Black Film Wire  / Security is far from optimal in the world’s most populous black nation.

It takes grave collective events for the average person to realise the extent of the situation. And films like these force us to examine that exceptionalist mindset. The director could have slotted in someone saying the lines, “So, what if not all the abductees made it back? We can at least thank God for our own who were rescued”, and it won’t be an exaggeration. It’s an uncomfortable truth that requires viewers to reflect on their beliefs. 

Errors in this film could be waived aside as mere casualties of a directorial debut (‘Might’ because a movie like Ramsey Nouah’s Living in Bondage: Breaking Free (2019) exists, where Ramsey even plays a lead character) in favour of applause for its seminality. Nollywood has previously explored the issues of terrorism and banditry in films like the critically acclaimed The Milkmaid (2021), Voiceless (2020) and The Trade (2023), and this is yet another vital addition to the canon. There can never be too many tellings of a people’s pain, after all. Amid vapid conversations about unpatriotic portrayals of Nigerian life, Etim Effiong’s debut gives us one more reason to care about our fellow countrymen and hopefully, better advocate for the security of lives. 

Black Film Wire Score: 2.5/5

Performances: 0.4/1

Plot and Scriptwriting: 0.3/1

Cinematography: 0.5/1

Themes: 0.8/1

Production Technicalities (Costuming, set design, sound design, etc.): 0.5/1