AFRIFF Dispatch 4: ‘Freedom Way’ Is Rife With Symbolism Reflecting Our Current Realities
The film's portrayal of resilience and harsh realities leaves audiences reflecting on whether anyone is truly immune to the consequences of a flawed system.
I finally watched Afolabi Olalekan’s Freedom Way and it was the highlight of the fourth day of AFRIFF for me. The film, written and produced by Blessing Uzzi, explores the harsh reality of police brutality and the inefficacy of policymaking in a system riddled with selfishness and caste dynamics.
The story begins with two young tech founders, Themba (Jesse Suntele) and Tayo (Jable Ogranya), whose logistics startup is disrupted when the government passes a law banning bike riders. This new law affects struggling family man Abiola (Debo Adedayo), whose livelihood, along with that of his wife and child, depends on driving a bike for a living.
The first thing I noticed was the film's strong attempt at relatability. The characters and their situations represent experiences that viewers or their acquaintances can identify with. Regardless of religion, profession, or socioeconomic status, Freedom Way poses the question: Are some people truly insulated from the harsh realities of a corrupt system?
The acting was remarkable, but standout performances came from Abiola (Debo Adedayo), Funke (Meg Otanwa), and Officer Ajayi (Femi Jacobs). Adedayo, famously known as Mr Macaroni, drew on his real-life encounters with law enforcement officers to deliver a convincing portrayal. After the screening, he noted that his personal experiences were part of what drew him to the story.
Meg Otanwa once again demonstrated her impressive range as an actor, further showcased by her versatility with languages. Her portrayal of Funke was so convincing that it mirrored the average Nigerian’s familiarity with multiple “Funkes” encountered daily.
Femi Jacobs’ portrayal of Officer Ajayi felt simultaneously familiar and novel. It was as if I had seen him in a similar role before, yet this time he brought a distinct persona that was hard to envision in any other character. This duality was evident in Ajayi’s speech: although he spoke Pidgin, he possessed an extensive vocabulary of English, suggesting a privileged education. However, the influence of a corrupt system turned him into a part of that system, so jaded that he facilitated corruption.
Symbolism was carefully woven throughout Freedom Way. In one scene, Ajayi is not wearing his police uniform but a black shirt with “Power” emblazoned on it—a significant detail symbolizing the misuse of power when it falls into the wrong hands. Similarly, the police uniform itself acts as a symbol when Abiola, after his first stakeout with Ajayi, heads home in uniform. A bus driver allows him to travel without fare, and Abiola, initially surprised, breaks into a smile as he realizes this is one of the perks of his new identity as a policeman.
Another layer of symbolism is seen in the character of Lawyer Ebi (Mike Afolarin). During a fire, Ebi rushes to save his passport first, breathing a sigh of relief before remembering that his wheelchair-bound mother is still in the room, needing rescue. This moment highlights the shifting priorities among many youths today, who are increasingly desensitized and focused on escaping a broken system at any cost.
Most importantly, the film emphasizes that no one is truly immune to the consequences of a flawed system. The messaging is so potent that it almost feels overwhelming.
Yet, viewers who find it excessive should reflect on the fact that this is a reality that will always be inescapable, no matter how hard we try to ignore it.