Wumi Toriola's ''Konge'': The Mystery of Strange Realities

By Olumide Labulo

When I mentioned that Nigeria (abi us) was heading toward the free premium content era (you may click to read more about it), many really didn't understand what that meant. Sebi? One day, I stumbled upon a friend's status gushing about Wumi Toriola and one of her new flicks ''Konge'' on WhatsApp, then I decided to watch because for a long time, I had stayed off Yoruba movies for their tropes and their English counterparts, especially the romance-themed ones. You go blame me?

Well, ''Konge'' is a three-part movie that already has millions of views on Wumi's TV on YouTube, and the numbers are still counting. It was released in April, with the sequel -- the second and third parts -- following in July. Featuring Wumi Toriola, Tunde Aderinoye, Lanre Adediwura, Mitchelle Onamade, Mosun Filani, Joke Muyiwa, and a handful of others, the story stands out as a layered exploration of human realities that are at once painfully visible and quietly concealed. Through the intertwined lives of Tiwa, Folayan, and Dunsin, the film dissects the complex ways people carry their truths, hide their flaws, and negotiate with fate, which for me is the determinant of every human's decision. At first, one is quick to think it's just about love and stigma, but a deeper understanding of Folayan's mother, who lost Kiitan, his younger brother, when he was about to marry Adebimpe, a single mother whose criminal, ex-convict boyfriend came to reclaim, and Tiwa's constant disappointment on account of her single motherhood, one would know it's more of fear and fate than stigmatisation.

                                           

Shortly after Kiitan's death, Folayan meets Tiwa, and their love story gradually begins. While Tiwa and Folayan's lives are shaped by two worlds, Tiwa initially hides the unseen one while Folayan doesn't. When Tiwa's truth becomes known, there's rancour, but both navigate it and eventually get married. After, it's a roller-coaster of emotions that cuts short their happiness per time. First, it is Folayan's son's (Murewa) death. Then, it shifts to Folayan's testicular cancer and his eventual inability to impregnate a woman again. Then, it shifts to Bankole's resurgence, Tiwa's ex, a criminal, and her daughter's father. His lies and insistence on taking custody of Shinayomi render both Tiwa and Folayan hopeless, resulting in their patronising a sperm bank to raise a family of their own. Tiwa gets pregnant, but eight months into the pregnancy, fate shows up again. Dunsin's cousin, Oredun, reveals she has a child for Folayan, and everything spirals downward again between Tiwa and Folayan.

                                        

The character of Dunsin, Tiwa's friend, is the centre that holds the themes together. Nothing else best embodies the duplicity of human nature. Outwardly, she appears charming, supportive, even trustworthy. Inwardly, she plays a different game—one where alliances shift, motives are hidden, and truth is a currency spent only when necessary. Her two-faced role is not just personal deceit; it is symbolic of a broader reality where people can live entirely different lives depending on who they're dealing with, thereby raising a troubling question: if someone’s friendship serves a purpose in the short term, does that make them any less dangerous in the long run? In the end, Tiwa’s endurance, Folayan’s unraveling, and Dunsin’s duplicity all converge into a single thematic thread: reality is rarely singular. It further suggests that everyone lives multiple versions of their truth, shaped by survival, fear, and desire. Sometimes these realities are revealed, sometimes they remain hidden—but when they collide, the result is both devastating and transformative. 

For the want of accuracy, Wumi may be pardoned for her miss in the testicular cancer infusion. According to science, a man is not entirely incapacitated in reproduction when both testicles are removed. Advanced science says sperm can be extracted through surgical procedures that target the epididymis, a duct behind the testicles where sperm matures. Also, Wumi's attempt to educate Nigerian's on the strange practice of buying sperm or eggs to raise a family is quite commendable. While it's perceived as cool in the Western world, it is still one weird practice that many Africans frown at. First of all, there is the unrattling, typical African man mentality of raising a family that isn't biologically his, and the inherent dangers. Whether you believe it or not, the spiritual always controls the physical. Many men and women who are medically certified to donate or sell their sperm and eggs have serious fundamental spiritual issues that might even be transient. Tiwa's inability to give birth to her baby with ease, except the familial ritual in the bloodline of her unknown donor is performed, succinctly delivers the message.

Sincerely, I am happy that Yoruba culture is magnified through language on here. Of a truth, I can say that this masterpiece isn't just a reflection of ''complex'' fate, the complex nature of humanity, or individual realities, and the opposite of the life one desires but eventually lives, but a repertoire of modern Yoruba and a catalogue of proverbs that make the language weighty and efficacious. Yoruba dun mehn!