
In film, creativity may steal the spotlight—but without a solid legal foundation, the stories, partnerships, and intellectual property at the heart of cinema remain vulnerable. To shed light on these essential but often ignored structures, we sat down with Omotayo Inakoju, a seasoned film lawyer with over seven years of experience and the current Head of Legal at EbonyLife Group. In this conversation, she breaks down the crucial legalities every filmmaker should know, offering clarity on the fine print that shapes the Nigerian film industry.
For Omotayo Inakoju, the path into entertainment law was not straightforward. Initially, she took a role at Silverbird following a friend’s recommendation, which led to her engaging deeply with legal matters in the film industry. Over time, her experiences uncovered her knack for advising and leading key legal conversations for notable Nollywood projects, such as EbonyLife’s newest streaming platform.
Please note that this interview has been edited to maintain its conciseness.
For any filmmaker, especially one who is just starting, what are the first legal steps that he or she should take before starting any project?
If I were to shoot a film today called The Life of a Film Lawyer. The first thing I need to do is to turn that idea into a script. And when it is a script, it means that it is an actual form of intellectual property. So the first legal step is to register that script with the Nigerian Copyright Commission. Before a producer can come on board, before an investor can come on board, they would want to understand the idea.
So if you know that what you want to share with these people, you need to also protect the idea from being stolen. What you can do in that case is to make them sign a non-disclosure agreement, which would list all the documents shared with the other party, from the script to the budget. And also, prevents the other party from proceeding with your idea without your input or approval.
As a producer, if you keep partnering, and collaborating with people without clearly specifying exactly what they are contributing and what they get in return, there will be chaos. And that’s where you come up with contracts. The essence of a contract is to establish the relationship between you and other parties.
What is next you want to move on to? Let’s shoot. But before you can shoot outdoors in Nigeria, there are papers that you need to get. And then, depending on how big your project is, you might also need insurance to cover cases where actors have been injured on set or even death for both cast and crew members. As well as heavy and costly gadgets.
Does the shooting permit from the government help in any way with the ‘Omo-onile’ harassment that filmmakers encounter?
Sadly, the ‘omo-onile’s still have to be settled cordially and peacefully. Because the government themselves haven’t been able to curb its excesses, it makes it difficult for you to just say I have paid for a permit. Also, settling the omo-onile doesn’t override getting the shooting permit from the government.
Going back a bit to your thoughts on collaborations and agreements. With the legal case on Shanty Town earlier on, why do you think the courts and commissions ruled in favour of Chinenye Nworah over Ini Edo?
Let me put out a disclaimer because I don’t know what happened back-end. I wasn’t there. But then, based on the information we got, Ini Edo invested in the project. Now, investment in the form of finances or in the form of services, I don’t know.
But then she invested, and she co-produced. So now the fact that you invested in the project or co-produced the project does not automatically mean that you own or co-own the project. And the fact that you earn profits or earn money from a project does not mean that you own the project. What Ini Edo ought to have done is to have a contract that says; this is what I’m contributing to this project, and this is exactly what I’m getting in return. And when I say what I’m getting in return is not only about money, it’s about clarity on ownership. Who owns what? Does she own IP rights, or do they both co-own it? Does she own the rights to earn profits from the project? Does she have the right to get credit?
And maybe Ini Edo didn’t specify that she co-owned or she just assumed that because she invested, she automatically could own. And that’s why the court cleared that no, you contributed to this project, but that doesn’t mean you own the project. And from all the documentation that they submitted, from all the registrations that they did in terms of the project, they were all in Chineye’s name. So, it was hard for her to actually prove that she owned or co-owned the project.
With this, at what stage should any filmmaker or any creative in the industry involve a lawyer?
I would say involve a lawyer from the ideation stage. Because I feel even the ideation stage is the most crucial in the sense that the majority of the people who are contributing to the project are brought on board at this stage. And then the lawyer journeys with you from pre-production to the post-production phase.
For an industry like Nollywood, what legal reforms would you say are urgent, especially for young filmmakers trying to break in?
When you look at the majority of the aspects of the industry is just largely unstructured. You saw the recent incident with Taye Ayimoro. You hardly find situations like that in Hollywood, because there are structured guilds. There are consequences for all the actions that you take as a practitioner. And that’s why people are always wary before they make decisions.
Another thing is the payment structure. There’s no structure regarding what actors should be paid, what kind of conditions actors should not be subjected to, and what is the duration that an actor should film straight in a day. All these are just left to the whims and caprices of the parties that are involved, which is not normal in an organized environment. And another thing is also the issue of the implementation of all these laws.
What’s your advice to any established or upcoming filmmaker?
I would say the first thing is for you to have the mindset that you are not only just a creative, you’re actually a creative entrepreneur. And what you are creating is valuable. So the more you attach value to your creative assets, to your creative services, the more you would benefit from it.
As a filmmaker, you need to understand what negotiation is and how to present yourself and your ideas in such a way that you are negotiating from a place of value and not a place of desperation. Another thing is that you also need to take steps to protect your intellectual property. It is not enough that you own it; what are you doing to protect the idea?
You need to see yourself as a business owner. So your mind needs to be open; it needs to be sharp in terms of distributing and monetizing your content. Okay, it’s a film. Can you create a series from it? So you just need to have an open mind as a filmmaker to be able to get deals, scale up ideas in various ways, negotiate deals appropriately, and make good money from your projects.
Conclusion
In an evolving industry like Nollywood, where passion often outruns structure, Omotayo Inakoju’s insights serve as a necessary pause button. Her message is clear: creativity may fuel the work, but legality protects it. From the first spark of an idea to the final licensing deal, filmmakers must begin to see themselves not just as creatives but as business owners navigating an evolving ecosystem.
As Nollywood continues to expand in visibility, ambition, and global reach, the need for stronger structures, informed negotiation, and intentional ownership has never been more urgent. Whether you’re an emerging storyteller or an established creator, Omotayo Inokoju’s counsel is both practical and empowering: value your ideas, protect your rights, understand your partnerships, and treat every project like the legacy it could become.







