King of Boys

A Kemi Adetiba Film presents Sola Sobowale (Eniola Salami), Remeinisce (Makanaki), Adesua Etomi-Wellington (Kemi Salami), Paul Sambo (Nurudeen Gobir), Sani Mu’azu (Inspector Shehu), Akin Lewis (Aare Akinwande),  Nobert Young (Justice Nwachukwu), Sharon Ooja (Amaka),  Demola Adedoyin (Kitan Salami) Jide Kosoko (Alhaji Salami). Director of Photography, Idowu Adedapo; Producers, Kemi Adetiba, Kene Okwuosa, Remi Adetiba; Screenplay, Director, Kemi Adetiba. © (2018)

Eniola Salami (Sola Sobowale) is a Nollywood Robinhood who turns out to be a Lagos political mover and shaker, a long time king-maker in politics. But on her birthday, when one ‘s supposed to be merciful and humble, she demonstrates the most insensitive part of her character by bludgeoning a man’s face with a hammer and left to die, then goes back to partying as if nothing happened. That’s how far she can go. She has all the power to kill and at the same time to spare. A woman comes asking Eniola’s help about a man who has impregnated her daughter and, at the same time, abusive of her. “Do you want this man to marry your daughter, or you want him dead?” Eniola bluntly asks. The mention of ‘death’ terrifies the complainant. Eniola’s world is not for the faint of heart. She rolls like that.

In her basement office and right over her head is the framed literary symbol, “Fill My Cup, Oh Lord.” Eniola’s cup runneth over when she picks a fight with Aare Akinwande, a forty years political maverick in Lagos. She pulls a battle with Aare. The Governor, Aare Akinwande (Akin Lewis),  had sent a messenger to Eniola, the party establishment was falling out of grace with her behavior, and they didn’t want to associate with a “bad copper.”  Eniola takes him to a task upon his promises to her, during the campaign when the party was spending her money and her area boys (thugs) causing havoc in the elections. She had promised lots of political donors with jobs and political influences. But now, the party is pulling the rug from under her. “Eniola, you are getting too big for your britches,” Aare says.

Aare, “Eniola, it’s all about timing…the elders of the party…we need to, uh, uh, we need to keep you aside, uh, until the next election. Ministerial appointments not for you. See, what we are planning is big… we have this idea you are from a different world…

Eniola, “What do you mean “from a different” world, Sir?”

Aare, “This is politics.”

Eniola, “Or, when they said that Aare could no longer deliver the south, or no longer arrange the streets, who did you run to, who did you come to for help?” Me, me, Eniola!”

Eniola has another force to contend with: the band of criminals in her underworld, who hails her as a king. A young capon among the gang, Makanaki (Reminisce) questions her throne as rot and illegitimate, as a king, and questioned, what the said king has done for them lately. Eniola hasn’t done anything for the underworld lately but her long service in the business taught her carefulness and protection for them all, against the law. Makanaki assumes that as weakness, and goes along and pull a $150 million robbery for which Aare thinks Eniola did. The meeting which Eniola called was tense.

Eniola, “Akorede, so we are mates now. Right? That I have to wait for you. What a pity? What a pity?”

Akorede, “You are not my mother.”

Guest at the Table, “Maka, respect the crown. What’s wrong with you?”

Makanaki, “What crown are you talking? You all fear a lion that has lost its claws and teeth. Old glory, old school. A mother who can’t take care of her children. She’s making money from politics. She has no time for us. When the last time anyone at this table benefited from this woman? But she wants to come back here and share from our hustle again. Mama, your era has passed. Release the crown.”

Makanaki wants the crown. Alhaji Salami left the crown to his wife Eniola Salami. It is hereditary, and now an outsider like Makanaki stands in front of her and demands it. Makanaki stood up to the king, and Eniola drew a battle line. Eniola promised to put her hand over Makanaki’s dead body. As if Aare got an air of the conflict between Eniola and Makanaki, he invites Manaki to his house, and we see Makanaki mo juba to him, promising to kill Eniola in her cell. That done, we see trouble brewing for Eniola. Makanaki belongs to the opposing camp against Eniola. The political establishment wouldn’t allow Eniola live because she knows too much.

Soon after, Inspector Shehu (Sani Mu’azu) instructs his deputy Nurudeen Gobir (Paul Sambo) in the security, to call in Eniola for questioning on grafts, murder, and money laundering. For the first time, Eniola realizes that her enemies are out to get her. Her daughter, Kemi Salami (Adesua Etomi-Wellington), is the heir apparent to Eniola, a lawyer in her own right, represents her mother in court. But before Justice Nwakwuchuku (Nobert Young) could enter the court, he receives a phone call that they have taken his family as a hostage and would all die, if he doesn’t let Eniola go. He does so; right outside the courthouse, however, Kemi gets gunned down, with a shot intended for Eniola. Later, that same evening, her only son gets killed as well, while the Justice and family get slaughtered.

Gobir arrests Eniola Salami for the second time without bail, this time for the murder of the Justice. Gobir has an ailing wife bound for surgery and is desperate for money. But when he gets in his car on his way home, he finds a  full handbag of $500 thousand. Then a telephone call for their appreciation, he presents it to his Boss, Inspector Shehu.  Gobir is straight-laced and prudish. Gobir finds it interesting and gets him wondering when Inspector Shehu tells him to abandon the investigation on Eniola because they are transferring her and her case to another jurisdiction.

Though annoyed, Gobir holds his peace on it but quietly follows Eniola’s suit and soon he suspects his boss, Inspector Shehu’s involvement in the criminal acts, and the money on the back seat of his car was a set up by Inspector Shehu to incriminate the young officer. He confronts him on it; he confesses and tells Gobir how the entire system gears to eliminate Eniola because she knows too much, and as they speak, “a team is on the way to kill her in her cell.” Shehu assures.

Security Gobir scampers from there and heads to the holding cell, but already, Makanaka and his gang are there and set the cell ablaze. However, Gobir frees her from the inferno and escapes with her from the scene. However, en route to secure Eniola, the hospital calls Gobir to report, his wife didn’t make it. Inspector Shehu gets shot in the back of his head. Makanaki gets killed by Eniola’s contact in the underworld, and she ends up a restaurant owner in Brooklyn, New York, United States of America.

There are exciting moments and character motivations worth mentioning in this movie. The reason why Eniola has been able to weather the political and social landscape of Lagos is the generosity that got her the name ‘community mother.’ A mother crying to her to save her pregnant daughter from an abusive boyfriend, the pregnant farina-sales-woman she gave money to, and in return, the number of envelopes in her birthday basket speak a volume. She had given promises based on promises Aare had given her for her support. When the establishment pulls the rug from under her, she feels the pinch of betrayal and loss of respect. What makes a man shame makes her angry:

The scene in which Eniola sees the ghosts of Alhaji Salami and her kids, including Kemi Salami, is a demonstration that Eniola sold her soul to gain the whole world. Now all those that could bring her happiness are dead, and she’s wallowing in loneliness. What more could she wish for rather than death? The scene resembles Macbeth and the ghost of Banquo:

Kemi (spirit sings), “A mother is a priceless jewel. You are a useless mother. You should have protected me! You should have shielded me from this life!”

Kemi (ghost), “Mommy, you should have saved me. I want to come home.”

Bummi (Ghost), “Don’t call her Mommy. She’s not your mom, a beast, like her, shouldn’t be called so.”

Alhaji Salami (ghost), “You put us through so much agony.”

Eniola, “It was an accident.”

Alhaji Salami (ghost), You mean accident that you orchestrated, to get my inheritance. You wanted my wealth all to yourself. Isn’t it?”

Eniola, “It was an accident.”

Eniola’s inner spirit and the ghost of her daughter make her insane. And in one of her vivid sensations, she even volunteers to take her own life. “I have done many things. Unspeakable things.” She confesses. And in the scene, in her cell when Makanaki is there to kill her:

Makanaki, “So, you know, it all ends tonight. You will die tonight.”

Eniola, “You can only kill the body. You cannot kill the spirit. Because my spirit is already gone. It left with my children.”

Makanaki, “I am the one who killed them.”

Eniola, “What do you want, you want to kill me? Where is the knife? Give me your knife. Give me the gun. I will do it. I will kill myself. I will make it quick.”

Makanaki, “no pleasure. I want to see you weeping, wailing, and begging in agony.”

Eniola is desperate in this scene to take her own life. A scene one can only compare to Macbeth wanting himself dead under the torment and taunts of Banquo’s ghost. King of Boys is a well-structured drama of greed, political dishonesty, backstabbing, and gangster warfare. Yet, it’s more about Eniola like Macbeth is about the character of King Macbeth. Eniola has qualities and unusual character developments to note in the story. She proves not to be the everyday regular woman. She stands tall among men. In the first meeting after her husband passed, a man was sitting in her husband’s throne. We heard the man’s neck cracked when her bodyguards took hold of him because he refused to give up the throne.

From her birthday party to when we see her running a restaurant in Brooklyn, New York, the story is all about her and how she circumvents and navigates the dangerous and crude political and gangster waters of Lagos to her credits. We see her at the epitome of her life from the ghettos of Lagos to the apex of society and we see how she falls from grace to grass, but she’s still triumphant in the end. If you can read her mind when the guy stands up to her in her restaurant, in Brooklyn, the look in her face. Her thought: I wish this was my old self back in Naija, let me bludgeon your fucking face, and let my boys take you outback and feed you to the barracuda in the Hudson River. She’s smart not to raise sand in America.

The theme of King Of Boys is Eniola’s character-Character as a theme. The story plot follows her from curtain up to curtain down. In analyzing stories, reviewers ask themselves the most conspicuous aspect of the character in the story. What makes her stand out? Or, why would anyone viewing the film either love and care for Eniola or hate her for what she is? If for instance, I detest Eniola, I do so simply because of her callousness in treating his family and neighbors for worldly benefits; she has no fear like I would, in hurting another man without remorse.

Eniola conforms to the laws of probability and necessity in the story of this nature. We expect her to be bad and she is bad. We admire her character to stand up to the men in the underworld and she does. She plays a believable part and acts accordingly. If we pity her for her demise in the story, we are heaping excellent credit on the writer for presenting us with Teflon type of a woman who is larger than life.