Our take on missed marks, masked merit, and the blurred line between audience and artistry.

Every year, the Africa Magic Viewers’ Choice Awards (AMVCA) walks in with the promise that the African audience, not critics, not elites, gets to reward the best of their screen. And every year, it walks out leaving many of us wondering: who, exactly, is this for?

The 2025 edition wasn’t an exception. It was a stunning night—celebratory, well-dressed, star-studded. But behind the red carpet glitz was a familiar ache: the feeling that even when AMVCA tries to get it right, it still misses the point.

The Viewers’ Choice That Sometimes Forgets the Viewers

Let’s be clear. The AMVCA is not the Oscars. It was never meant to be. It’s built around viewership, popularity, resonance, those real-world markers that let people feel seen. That’s what makes its legacy meaningful. But somewhere in the chase for artistic credibility, AMVCA started drifting. And in 2024, it made a structural shift: non-voting categories. These were meant to honour technical and creative excellence like Best Movie, Best Director, Best Writing, separate from the populist vote.

It’s a good idea. On paper. But it’s also where things started getting weird.

Nominating Ghost Films

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: several of this year’s nominated films had no audience.

Take Mai Martaba, a regional release, shown in a handful of cinemas in northern Nigeria. Its nomination? Best Indigenous Language (West Africa) and Best Director categories. That’s fine. But when you start to see other titles, such as Freedom Way, The Man Died, Skeleton Coast, Phoenix Fury, Agemo, and Legend of the Vagabond Queen of Lagos, which were largely confined to film festivals or had minimal theatrical releases, it becomes clear that the nominations don’t reflect what audiences have actually engaged with.

These aren’t household names. These are festival darlings, boutique projects, and limited-release titles that most audiences haven’t seen. And look, cinema doesn’t have to be mainstream to be good. But when your viewers’ choice platform honours films viewers couldn’t access, something is off.

Overlooked Excellence: The Case of The Weekend

It’s baffling that The Weekend, Daniel Oriahi’s slow-burning, audience-backed film that actually played in cinemas and grossimg ₦8 million in Nigerian cinemas, and trended in critical circles, didn’t win a thing. Not Best Director. Not Best Movie. Not Best Screenplay. Nothing.

Despite nominations for Best Director, Best Writing, and Bucci Franklin nominated as Best Lead Actor, the film did not secure any awards. This omission is particularly striking given the film’s accessibility and positive reception, suggesting a disconnect between critical acclaim and award recognition.

Oriahi had two solid films in the mix, A Ghetto Love Story and The Weekend. Both had runs that matter. The Weekend premiered at Tribeca. It made its rounds in Nigerian cinemas. It had reach. And more importantly, it had conversation.

But instead, Best Director went to Awam Amkpa for The Man Died, a project only seen at a select number of private screenings. If that’s not the panel hijacking the narrative from the viewers, I don’t know what is.

Mercy Aigbe Deserved That Win. But, come. Let’s Talk.

Yes, Mercy Aigbe won Best Supporting Actress. And yes, she earned every bit of that applause for her role in Farmer’s Bride. It was textured, vulnerable, controlled. I remember the cinema reacting in waves when she hit her emotional peak in the third act. You couldn’t miss it, this was an actress working at her best.

But why was Darasimi Nadi for Aburo nominated in the same category?

Look, Darasimi is a bright star. She worked hard this past year. From Aburo to A Father’s Love, to Summer Rain, she was everywhere. But she didn’t belong in that particular lineup. And when you force a seat at a table that someone hasn’t quite grown into, you hurt their credibility. That’s not a slight, it’s a critique of the panel’s curation, not her potential.

Gabriel Afolayan’s Win: A Beautiful Contradiction

Gabriel Afolayan won Best Supporting Actor for Inside Life, and… it’s complicated.

Under six minutes of screen time. A glorified cameo, really. But even in that short stint, he made it count. His performance landed with clarity and depth. He proved that brevity doesn’t always mean insignificance.

Still, Abimbola Kazeem had more screen time. Was more consistent. Yet, even if his performance was technically stronger, it didn’t have the same sting Gabriel delivered. So yes, it’s contradictory. But in this case, it’s a contradiction that oddly makes sense.

The Trailblazer Award: Where’s the Trail?

Then came Kayode Kasum, winning the Trailblazer Award.

Was he deserving? Sure. He’s directed a few standout pieces, and he’s been in the game. But “trailblazer”? That’s a word with weight. It’s for the new ones charging ahead.

Darasimi Nadi fit that brief better this year. She was everywhere, on YouTube, in cinemas, on the festival circuit. Agemo, Aburo, A Father’s Love, Tokunbo, The Switch, Weekend Away, and many more. Child actors don’t typically dominate an industry cycle. But she did.

So what’s the criteria? AMVCA needs to  define that award. This isn’t a handout, it’s a title that should mean something.

So, What Now?

This year’s AMVCA was not a disaster. It had wins that felt good. It honoured some excellent work. But it also reinforced an old problem: the widening gap between audience participation and institutional judgement.

You can’t be a viewers’ choice platform and shut viewers out of the process, especially in the categories that matter most. Let’s be clear:

Introducing non-voting categories wasn’t a mistake. It was a step toward balance. But when the films nominated in those categories haven’t passed through the public eye, when most people haven’t heard of them or had a chance to watch them, it chips away at trust. Viewers begin to question the system that was supposedly built to empower their voice.

Accountability and transparency matter. If the awards aim to honour excellence, they must also honour access. A film might not be voted on by the public, but it should at least be known to them. That’s the bare minimum for credibility.

The AMVCA doesn’t need to be perfect. But it needs to feel honest. When viewers stop recognising the stories being awarded, when the room feels colder than the screen, they start to tune out, not just from the ceremony, but from the industry it celebrates.

That’s the real risk.

Until AMVCA figures out how to blend viewership and artistry without turning one into collateral damage, the night will keep ending with people asking: wait, what just won?