By Muhsin Ibrahim
Filmmakers famously announce that “it’s a wrap” after the last camera roll on the final shooting day. It gives them, and of course, the entire actors and actresses present, an immense sense of relief.
Naturally, humans want to rest and become excited when they reach the point of getting it. But, that’s the point when the post-production team and subsequently the audience begin their work – of reading the work in their way.
The “wrap”, always, leaves many holes unfilled. Although Kwana Casa’in is, unarguably, the most expensive and expansive Hausa drama yet, the final episode of season four, aired yesterday (27.12.2020), leaves much to be desired. Hence, I felt the need to quickly write this brief ‘review’ in addition to the one I wrote in July 2019. So much has happened between then (season one) and now (season four). But, there is no need to narrate the story as I believe most of my readers follow the series.
The new trend of Hausa film making in Nigeria
I start with Alhaji Auta Baita’s appearance as another “big man” in Alfawa State politics. From the onset, he was there to rival and defeat the dominance of Alhaji Safiyanu Ali alias Matawalle. However, after the latter’s downfall, which the former caused, he unexpectedly changes and becomes yet another state’s enemy. What more is there to do to undermine the embattled governor that has not been done? Are we going to have another savior in the season finale or the governor is politically strong enough now? Is every powerful man against the governor? Many similar questions are begging for responses. While we wait for their answers, I kindly remind the series’ creators not to overstretch this essential part and risk making the story monotonous.
When it’s a global tradition for prisoners to get a furlough to attend the burial of their loved ones, Bawa Maikada, a – whole – former governor, is arrested soon after his son’s gruesome murder.
I am not in the position to call this wrong, but it’s very improbable. The drama of this nature, even though fictional, it reflects reality. Thus, how could you arrest him on the day he buried his handsome, innocent son and amidst family and mourners, who, by the way, disappear? Where are the many armed police protecting him? They also vanish except one during the arrest. Something looks implausible here as well.
Likewise, the abduction of Salma and those schoolchildren seems somewhat misdirected. The family of Bawa Maikada has already been punished in one of the most befitting ways. Ideally, they should not go through more pain, especially when the other pain is excruciatingly fresh. Again, she is ‘blameless’ as she has never been on the side of her heartless parents. Despite all threats and against the odds, she doggedly supports – and probably loves – Sahabi, her parents’ ‘opponent’ number one.
Her uprightness deserves a reward, not punishment. Regarding the schoolchildren, their parents have nothing to do with the previous government Sambo and his gang are fighting. Thus, neither Salma nor the children are a useful bargaining chip for Sambo’s puerile demands.
I probably sound too opinionated. Nonetheless, I guess the opinions are not out of place. I consider Kwana Casa’in as the best Hausa socio-political drama there is today. Therefore, like the lengthier review I wrote in 2019, this piece seeks to make it better, not criticize it baselessly or undermine its makers’ and sponsors’ fantastic effort. Nothing and nobody is perfect. Generally, there is a need for Hausa filmmakers, not only members of Kannywood, to understand that film criticism is a global, standard practice. Besides, like many audiences, I can’t wait for season five, the drama’s actual “wrap”.
Muhsin Ibrahim wrote From the University of Cologne Germany
muhsin2008@gmail.com
