MIL Africa Engine

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Nnamdi O. Madichie, Professor of Marketing & Entrepreneurship, University of Kigali

Every December in Nigeria and Ghana a giant party takes place, unfolding in a whirlwind of concerts, festivals, weddings, art shows, dress-ups, meet-ups and travel. Locals and diaspora west Africans returning from overseas come together to create Detty December, a festive event stretching from mid-December to the new year.

Detty is a playful term for “dirty” in the regional Pidgin language and “Detty December” is a term commonly believed to have been coined by Afropop star Mr Eazi in 2016. It means letting loose and indulging in some fun and revelry.

Major events headlined by local and international music stars punctuate Detty December. In Nigeria events range from Flytime Fest in Lagos to Carnival Calabar, which showcases cultural heritage. In Ghana, festivals like AfroFuture and Afro Nation attract global celebrities and influencers as well as returning citizens.

But this isn’t just a holiday fling. Propelled by youthful energy and cultural innovation, it’s an economic phenomenon. And it represents a shift in Africa’s urban landscape and its relationship with the rest of the world.

Detty December now stands as a pillar of Africa’s creative economy, which has built on the global popularity of music from the continent, from Afrobeats to amapiano.

As marketing and entrepreneurship lecturers with an eye on the creative industries, we’ve researched Detty December and believe it’s a cultural tourism phenomenon with the potential to spread across the continent. In fact, it’s already begun to do so.

Nigeria: the economic power of Detty December

Despite infrastructure challenges, places like Lagos are new cultural epicentres. During Detty December the city becomes a carnival of reunions and celebrations. “I Just Got Backs” (IJGBs) return, music spills from every bar and events pop up daily.

Once simply a cultural moment, Detty December has rapidly become a powerful economic engine. It makes a big impact on hospitality, entertainment, tourism and local businesses.

In Lagos alone, the 2024 festivities generated an estimated US$71.6 million in state revenue. Hotels contributed US$44 million and short-term rentals added US$30 million.

Nationally, the impact is even more staggering. Detty December injected over US$220 million into Nigeria’s economy in 2023.

A major driver of this growth is tourism. An estimated 1.2 million visitors flocked to Lagos in December 2024. Nearly 90% of these were diaspora Nigerians.

Afrobeats star Wizkid’s Made in Lagos concert alone pulled in nearly US$650,000 in ticket sales. New song releases on Fridays have become features of the season.

Beyond direct spending, Detty December creates temporary and permanent jobs and bolsters small businesses.

Ghana: December in GH

The government of neighbouring Ghana has recognised this potential, strategically branding its festive season December in GH. This initiative leverages cultural tourism for substantial economic gain. The country even takes measures like visa-on-arrival in December to encourage visitors.

This builds on cultural tourism successes like the 2019 Year of Return campaign. In 2023, December in GH reportedly attracted about 115,000 participants.

Even in a challenging economic climate, Detty December continues to thrive. This indicates a desire for cultural connection and a much-needed escape, especially among the continent’s youth and its global diaspora communities.

South Africa: Ke Dezemba

From Flytime in Lagos and AfroNation in Accra to Alte Sounds in Kigali and the vibrant December nightlife in Mombasa or Johannesburg’s rooftop party events, African cities have become seasonal epicentres for cultural consumption.

“Ke Dezemba” is a term used in South Africa to describe the festive season. It’s a vibrant and celebratory term that’s often associated with summer holidays, braaiing (barbecuing) and social gatherings. It could become the branding of the country’s own Detty December.

South Africa’s global profile has been raised during its 2025 presidency of the G20. Adopting its own version of Detty December could continue to amplify Brand South Africa. It could show off the country’s vibrancy, creativity, hospitality and potential for investment.

Aligning cultural celebration with global visibility could reframe a season of revelry into a strategic cultural and economic asset. For South Africa, this could inject capital into the tourism sector, boosting hospitality, transport and ancillary services.

---

Read more: Culture can build a better world: four key issues on Africa’s G20 agenda

---

Beyond direct tourism, the spotlight on South African art and culture during this period could make a lasting impact on the creative economy, fostering growth and job creation.

Physical celebration could be digitally amplified to make a lasting impression.

A notable example is Spotify’s unveiling of its Detty December hub. The music streaming service intends celebrating the festive season across west Africa and South Africa with playlists of party tracks.

Spotify’s Phiona Okumu explains:

Detty December is a special time for our users in west Africa, and Ke Dezemba symbolises South Africa’s spirit of celebration.

How to make it work

The lessons from west African cities suggest that cultural economies thrive with:

• flexible governance

• inclusive participation

• engaged diasporas

• innovative business models.

For Nigeria’s Detty December model to be sustainable it would require strategic policy support, urban planning integration and investment in creative infrastructure.

Funding models such as memberships and sponsorships are crucial for the longevity of music festivals. Policy support and infrastructure investment are necessary to unlock the full potential of the creative sector.

Cultural tourism, powerfully embodied by Detty December, is emerging as a viable economic strategy for African cities. This signals a broader recognition of culture’s economic power. It offers a compelling canvas for economic development and nation branding.

– Detty December started as a Nigerian cultural moment. Now it’s spreading across the continent – and minting money
– https://theconversation.com/detty-december-started-as-a-nigerian-cultural-moment-now-its-spreading-across-the-continent-and-minting-money-258949

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Wunpini Fatimata Mohammed, Assistant Professor of Communication, Cornell University

Netflix began its Africa operations in South Africa in 2016. When the US streaming giant announced it was setting up shop in Nigeria in 2020, many west African film-makers, writers, artists and media audiences were jubilant.

Finally, west Africa’s creativity and brilliance would be formally recognised on the world stage. Netflix Naija’s purpose was to produce local content for Netflix just like Netflix South Africa and later Netflix Kenya.

---

Read more: Netflix Naija: creative freedom in Nigeria’s emerging digital space?

---

Some film-makers have been wary of US cultural imperialism happening through the market dominance of Netflix and other US streamers. Others have rushed to the streamer to sign deals that will gain their films and TV shows a global audience.

Netflix’s interest in African stories comes with a colonial power dynamic that research and scholarship has not fully explored. As a scholar of media and communication, I recently examined the effect US streamers are having on the stories being told in films in Nigeria and Ghana.

In my study, I argue that despite the growing global interest in African pop culture, African creative workers need to be careful about interest from global conglomerates. We can’t talk about African cinemas going global without paying attention to how Hollywood’s colonial relationship with Africa has shaped and influenced what African filmmakers believe will sell globally.

---

Read more: Black Panther, Wakanda Forever and the problem with Hollywood – an African perspective

---

What price is being paid to appeal to global audiences? Film-makers might focus so much on the western gaze that they lose focus on telling African stories authentically and respectfully.

In my study, I analyse various films including the Ghanaian film Azali and the Nigerian movie Lionheart to argue that that’s exactly what’s happening.

Dancing to the tune of the west

Despite the existence of thriving African film and TV industries before the advent of streaming technologies, we are seeing a replication of what I call the everydayness of colonialism in the area of media representations of the continent.

Here, African filmmakers and producers find themselves jumping through hoops to tell stories that are “fit” to be streamed to Netflix’s millions of American, European and global subscribers. Global cosmopolitan audiences are prioritised over African audiences.

---

Read more: Woman King is set in Benin but filmed in South Africa – in the process it erases real people’s struggles

---

African audiences at home and in the diaspora are the reason we have vibrant film industries such as Nollywood to begin with.

This displacement of African audiences happens both in representation and in access.

Most African movie audiences do not have access to Netflix and other streaming platforms due to the digital divide and the cost of subscribing. So the target audience shifts to the elite, both African and global, who can afford to stream.

Azali and Lionheart

Ghana and Nigeria’s film industries were developed by artists who wanted to reflect their societies to their communities. I found that with Netflix’s arrival, there is a danger of disrupting and undoing this important work.

The intervention of US streamers has led to the development of glossier versions of Africa. They are universal enough to be consumed by anyone, anywhere in the world, even if it means sacrificing the integrity of stories to achieve this global appeal.

In Azali, for example, I found that the film sacrificed authentic language and geographical accuracy to tell a story for a western audience.

Azali explores the themes of child marriage, child-trafficking and rural-urban migration in Ghana. Here, a film about the Dagbamba was set in the town of Zebilla, where Dagbanli is not the dominant language. The film cast non-Dagbanli speakers in major roles to speak a language they neither understood nor had any proficiency in. If Dagbamba had been centred as the primary audience of the movie, this cultural indignity might not have happened.

Lionheart, though star-studded, departed from traditional Nollywood narrative conventions. The film tells the story of a wealthy Nigerian family and the quest of a young woman to take control of the family business. The movie had high production values and told a story that would be considered universally relatable. However, it was disqualified in its bid for an Oscar nomination in the Best International Feature Film category because of its majority English dialogue. Despite appealing to Netflix in the area of production quality and storyline, African film-makers were still punished by the Academy.

Nigeria and Ghana’s film industries have traditionally told a wide variety of African stories. Netflix’s arrival is reducing African stories to stories about the elite and for the global cosmopolitan elite.

Stories about the majority of Africans are being erased. Africa becomes a backdrop to tell stories about the elite class.

In my study, I argue that narrative construction is an important part of identity and that when external factors begin to determine how African stories are told, it distorts the image of Africa for Africans and raises questions of cultural sovereignty.

Moving forward

It is refreshing to see African cultures appreciated on a global scale. But this shouldn’t erase narratives about the African masses and working communities.

There are film-makers that are resisting the Netflix canon. Nigerian actress and producer Funke Akindele shows that this is possible in A Tribe Called Judah. Her film set a new box office record in Nigeria by avoiding direct to Netflix/streamer distribution and staying true to African audiences. The film tells the story of how a single mother and her five sons navigate poverty in Lagos. It was later licensed to stream on Amazon Prime Video after it made history at the box office in Nigeria.

Other film-makers like Omoni Oboli, whose approach centres the Nigerian masses, has turned to YouTube. She tells Nigerian stories while resisting the exploitation that can often come with signing a Netflix deal.

---

Read more: The unique strategy Netflix deployed to reach 90 million worldwide subscribers

---

These projects offer an alternative. As Netflix expands, African creative workers and cultural policymakers must protect the narrative integrity of African stories and resist the economic exploitation of African film-makers. Productions can capture the nuances of African stories while representing African languages and cultures with respect and dignity – without selling out to western values.

– Netflix gives African film a platform – but the cultural price is high
– https://theconversation.com/netflix-gives-african-film-a-platform-but-the-cultural-price-is-high-259252