Following Desmond Ovbiagele’s The Milkmaid (in 2023) and C.J. Obasi’s Mami Wata (in 2024), Mai Martaba (literally, ‘Your Royal Highness’) has been chosen as Nigeria’s official submission for the 97th Academy Awards.
Directed by Prince Daniel, this film adaptation of the beloved local Nigerian radio drama “Kasar Jallaba” offers audiences a succession drama, political betrayal, and gender-shifting power dynamics. With a production budget reportedly exceeding $80,000 in an industry that is historically focused on smaller, very low-budget productions, the film stands strong in the filmography of Kannywood, as northern Nigeria’s Hausa-speaking film industry is known.
While the word succession may bring to mind Jesse Armstrong’s HBO hit Succession or even Ridley Scott’s Gladiator, the film, whose screenplay was written by A.G.M. Bashir and Babalola M. Oluwatobi, is set in the fictional kingdom of Jallaba. The story describes the chaos that erupts after King Mu’azu names his heir — a decision that shakes the kingdom’s traditional succession order and exposes the fragility of power.
Upon the death of the king, the mantle of leadership is expected to pass to Magajin Gari (Ghali Abdallah DZ), the king’s son and presumed heir. However, as per the kingdom’s tradition, King Mu’azu must name his successor before his death. He chooses his daughter, Princess Sangaya (Fatima Muhammad), instead. This decision shatters expectations and provokes unrest among the ruling elite, many of whom view a female monarch as illegitimate and immoral.
The king’s son refuses to accept his displacement, and forges an alliance with Shugaba (Adam A. Zango), a feared outlaw leader with his own grievances against the kingdom. Together, they plot to overthrow Princess Sangaya and seize the throne. This power struggle becomes the central conflict of the film, with both sides navigating fragile alliances, betrayals, and the looming threat of civil war.
Adding to the kingdom’s instability is the lingering threat posed by the Agadashawa clan, a former ruling family ousted from power in a previous political coup. Their presence in the background of the plot adds another layer of tension, as it is clear they are waiting for the perfect moment to reclaim what was once theirs.
Mai Martaba is concerned with gender roles and leadership. Princess Sangaya’s rise to power represents a direct challenge to the kingdom’s patriarchal order, and her character embodies both defiance and restraint, caught between the need to prove herself as a capable leader and the weight of expectations placed on her as a woman in power. Hence the kingdom itself serves as a symbolic battleground, where customs, rituals, and rules around succession are exposed as both sacred and flawed.
Fatima Muhammad’s portrayal of the princess is deliberate and restrained, reflecting a leader who must remain composed in the face of doubt, particularly in moments of isolation when her voice is questioned by men in the village council. Magajin Gari’s character development is also interesting: he is portrayed as a blend of entitlement and internal conflict. His desire for power is not driven by malice alone but by a belief in his rightful place within the succession. And his gradual shift from betrayed son to ruthless usurper is carefully measured, making him more than a simple antagonist.
While the character development is to be highlighted and praised, the film’s pacing, particularly in the third act, feels rushed and leaves the audience in need of a more emotionally-charged final showdown.
A strong point for Mai Martaba is Toka McBaror’s production design; it brings a sense of authenticity through the use of natural landscapes. The kingdom of Jallaba feels real and lived-in, with none of the stereotypes or clichés found in the biggest Hollywood productions. The same can be said of its costumes. Sangaya’s costumes are particularly symbolic, with her transition from traditional dress to a royal emblem mirroring her rise to power. All these details are captured by McBaror, who is also credited with the film’s cinematography. The latter contrasts wide Sahara desert shots with the shadowy intimacy of palace chambers.
Although carrying a hyper-local folk narrative, the film is able to deliver the message to a wider non-African audience. On a local level, Mai Martaba signals a growing confidence in telling stories rooted in Hausa culture, for a moment expanding beyond the monopoly of the English-speaking Nollywood and its mainstream aesthetic, opting instead for something distinct.
On an international level, prioritising the Hausa language, cultural traditions, and a setting that evokes pre-colonial African royalty, Mai Martaba crafts a world where African filmmakers and artists are once again in charge of their own stories and oral archive, offering a counter-narrative to the homogenised portrayals of Africa often seen in Western media.
For audiences unfamiliar with Kannywood, Mai Martaba offers a compelling entry point in the international market. For those already familiar, it reaffirms the Nigerian film industry’s capacity to evolve. Its existence empowers African storytellers to have more agency over their work.
Director: Prince Daniel (Aboki)
Script: A.G.M. Bashir and Babalola M. Oluwatobi
Producers: Aliyu Ahmad, Egor Efiok, Bature Zambuk, Shehu Bala Kabara
Cast: Adam A. Zango, Ghali Abdallah DZ, Auwalu Isma’il Marshall, Fatima Muhammad, Maryam Usman Shuaibu, Mukhtar Aminu
Music: Shaddi Justin
Cinematography, production design: Toka McBaror
Editing: Johnson E. Awolola
Production company: Blackville Media
Producers: Ghali Abdallah DZ, Prince Daniel (Aboki), Ahmad Aliyu Baballe, Egor Efiok, Shehu Bala Kabara, Bature Zambuk
In Hausa
86 mins
