In Áfàméfùnà, while men are depicted as heirs and legacy bearers, women are relegated to roles that affirm their dependency. This portrayal mirrors and potentially exacerbates the societal undervaluing of women’s economic contributions. When Afam visits Odogwu as an independent man, Odogwu proposes marriage between Afam and Amaka. Like Amaka, the acceptable pathway through which women may attain status is marriage with successful men if they are lucky. 

Áfàméfùnà conveniently ignores all the ways that power intersects with gender, our traditions, and class relations. Amaka, as Odogwu’s daughter, is never imbued with the traditional powers an oga’s child would have over servants. She is introduced as an object to be desired and then is presented as a tool that Paulo uses, first as a lover and, perhaps more importantly, a foolish thief. Odogwu advises Afam to be wary of women notoriously framed as harbingers of men’s destruction, yet he fails to protect his daughter from the men with whom he has filled his home. 

Amaka is archetypal in the most powerless way: amorous, idealistic, passive, snivelling, and forlorn, with an identity positioned by the men around her. On the one hand, she is not the diabolical Nigerian wife sliding sons into legitimacy with a sly sleight of hand that the manosphere insists is the average Nigerian woman. Instead, she is devoid of actionable will to deprive her husband of certain paternity and the continuation of his lineage. She is ignorant about her actions, not having the foresight (or hindsight) to take care of the implications of sexual relations with her ex-boyfriend Paulo. We have no idea what Amaka studied at university or her professional ambitions. The dialogue points to her helping out her husband’s business. Her character acknowledges the career gap many women who are bred to be wives experience. 

This hierarchy of genders that begins within family units with plans for the future economic emancipation of boys while girls remain afterthoughts presents constraints for women who want to or have to provide for themselves and their families. Where access to funding and mentorship is generally limited for many women, they are especially determined or sealed in marriage. What are the economic limitations placed on women once they are married? How are husbands partnering with wives to ease the labour responsibilities at home, which women often shoulder alone? The influence of religious teachings and the irony of the chokehold that patriarchal leanings have to interpellate women into believing their status as second-tier members of society and, in turn, culturally reproduce offspring who continue to place a premium on boys as ‘heirs’ and daughters as ‘helpers’ mean that changing these social norms will be hard-fought. 

Despite women accounting for 64 per cent of registrants in the national apprenticeship scheme in 2018, significant barriers prevent them from forming robust business networks similar to those of men. While organizations like Women in Management, Business, and Public Service (WIMBIZ) provide networking platforms for classed Nigerian women, the majority of underprivileged women, who are often relegated to serving others as an economic means, face substantial restrictions in exercising their agency. 

The core issue lies in the socio-economic structures that underpin all social relations. These structures revolve around the acknowledgement, exhibition, and wielding of power. Marriage, the smallest political unit, exemplifies this dynamic where financial dominance is crucial. Within this framework, men are encouraged and often expected to be financially superior to their wives, reinforcing their dominant position in the household. This expectation influences all other aspects of their relationships, limiting women’s economic independence and capacity to form influential business networks. 

Underprivileged women, in particular, are often constrained by societal norms and economic policies that devalue their labour and restrict their opportunities. These women face significant obstacles in securing the mentorship, credit, and networks necessary for creating and sustaining successful businesses. Thus, the disparity in business networking opportunities is not due to a lack of initiative but is a consequence of deeply entrenched power imbalances. 

Gender hierarchies in marriage are exacerbated by financial dominance, closely tied to perceptions of masculinity. Women who challenge this norm by outearning their partners are perceived as stepping outside their femininity and emasculating their spouses. Autonomy and decision-making, particularly regarding one’s body, are linked to economic dominance but regulated by socio-cultural norms. As a result, even when women out-earn their partners, they often feel compelled to defer to their husbands, acknowledging them as the rightful ‘head’ of the household, exposing how tools can be useless in bound hands. Economic freedom is not very liberating for many women constrained by societal expectations of femininity. Despite achieving financial independence, these women often remain bound by cultural norms that dictate traditional gender roles and behaviours, limiting their ability to exercise their autonomy fully.  

The film’s crux and fulcrum of tension is Paulo’s blackmail of Afam. Its introductory scenes include the finding of Paulo’s corpse followed by a celebratory scene where Afam is dancing with his son. 

Perhaps women’s only power over men has always been the assurance of their parentage over children. This has been a recent hot-button topic in the Nigerian social media public sphere, with many calling for mandatory DNA tests to be administered at birth, a testament to modern heterosexual relations. 

Áfàméfùnà, the name, is a plea that reveals the fear of the loss of legacy and continuity—a uniquely male trepidation. It is a name pregnant with the concept of sons as bearers of legacies, heirs, bloodlines, or lineage, exposing the stereotypical Igbo reputation for the preference of male children. Even though this preference is almost global, stories that early Nollywood chose to highlight have cemented the idea as singularly Igbo in the consciousness of Nigerian audiences.  

The film emasculates Afam in the eyes of the audience by choosing to disempower him through his progeny. My audience analysis of five Igbo men revealed that men viewed Afam as a ‘simp’. One man suggested that marrying Amaka immediately was enough to make Afam fall into this category. For the other four, though, it was okay and even macho to ‘acquire’ her directly from Paulo. However, they all drew the line at accepting the fruit of that acquisition.