In a cinematic moment that feels both prescient and provocative, Kemi Adetiba’s To Kill A Monkey offers a gripping, if at times unnerving, look at what happens when technological genius meets economic frustration. Set against the backdrop of a Nigeria that many know all too well, where talent is abundant but opportunity is elusive, the film follows the journey of a brilliant yet disillusioned software developer who teams up with a loud fraudster, Oboz, to weaponise artificial intelligence for cybercrime.
But beneath its adrenaline-fueled plot and sleek visuals lies something far deeper: a cautionary tale about the fragile intersection between innovation and desperation.
The South-South Pulse: A Story Rooted in Reality
What makes this film even more compelling for me—someone committed to spotlighting tech and business stories from Nigeria’s South-East and South-South—is its origin. The tale of Oboz and Efemini, the street-smart, tech-upskilled conman, is built on the life of two men, Efemini from Delta State and Oboz from Edo State. Edo, often underrepresented in Nigerian media narratives, gets a kind of gritty dignity in this film, even though it reinforces the belief that these two states are cybercrime havens. But for once, the South-South isn’t just a set location; it’s the heartbeat of the story.
Adetiba doesn’t treat the setting as a mere backdrop. She gives it texture. From the pidgin-laced dialogue to the cultural references that only insiders will fully grasp, To Kill A Monkey is as regionally specific as it is universally resonant.
When Tech Turns Rogue
At the core of the film is this pressing question: What happens when technological brilliance is not met with structural opportunity?
The protagonist, Efemini, is not your average criminal. He’s a hardworking, deeply gifted software developer, someone who could have built the next Flutterwave or PiggyVest if he had access, mentorship, and a fair shot. But after years of trying to “do it right”, pitching his idea, sending proposals, and working on underpaid gigs, he hits a wall.
And then comes Oboz, with street smarts and a business of running all kinds of low-level scams, a flair for risky thinking. Together, they hatch a plan to combine Efemini`s AI expertise with Oboz’s knowledge of the financial underworld. Their tools? Machine learning algorithms that simulate voice patterns, deepfake video tech, and phishing software layered with predictive analytics. The goal? To siphon money from foreign banks and multinationals who “wouldn’t even notice it was gone.”
It’s the perfect heist, powered by code. And it’s terrifyingly believable.
Adetiba’s Direction: Slick, Tense, and Emotionally Honest
Credit must be given to Kemi Adetiba for steering this story with such confident precision. Known for her work on King of Boys, Adetiba is no stranger to complex characters navigating morally grey worlds. But To Kill A Monkey is arguably her most technologically daring film yet.
She handles the technical elements with surprising accuracy. Scenes showing typical HK settings where some are seen writing lines of lies claiming to be an African prince, a typical lie often used by fraudsters, girls involved in love scam video calls, or some others using other forms of voodoo to ensure that maga pays are well-researched and adequately portrayed. The film never dumbs it down for the audience, nor does it fall into the trap of over-glamorising the fraud or tech world.
Efemini’s frustrations feel real; his battles with stealing wifi to work on developing his software-building skills, buggy deployments, and the loneliness of working from a cramped apartment are painfully relatable to anyone in the dev community.
The Moral Undercurrents: What Does This Say About Us?
As someone who frequently writes about the Nigerian tech ecosystem, I found myself reflecting hard after the credits rolled. What happens when we raise a generation of gifted, creative minds only to offer them systemic rejection? What happens when tech, our supposed saviour, becomes the tool of the villain, not because the villain is evil, but because society failed him?
To Kill A Monkey doesn’t glorify crime. If anything, it underscores the slippery slope that starts with good intentions and ends in irreversible decisions. There’s a haunting monologue in the third act where Efemini admits: “I just wanted to matter. I just wanted to build something that couldn’t be ignored.”
How many young Nigerian developers feel the same way?
In many ways, this film is a wake-up call to stakeholders in our ecosystem, policymakers, investors, and incubators. Talent without structure breeds volatility. And AI in the wrong hands? It becomes not a tool of creation, but of destruction.
A Few Critiques
While the film excels in its concept and execution, it isn’t without its flaws.
Some parts of the plot feel rushed, particularly the transition from Efemini’s initial reluctance to his full-blown criminality. The emotional stakes could have been deepened with more backstory. What about Efemini’s family? What made him hold on for so long before snapping? These are questions that linger.
Also, while Oboz is an electrifying character, sometimes he veers into caricature. His swagger, while entertaining, occasionally undercuts the seriousness of the themes. I struggled to see him as a fearful, menacing criminal lord. That said, his character does serve an important role in illustrating how fraud isn’t always born of evil; it’s often born of brilliance misdirected.
The Bigger Picture
I walked away from To Kill A Monkey unsettled, but in a good way. It made me think. It made me ache for all the “Efeminis” out there, building in silence, burning with brilliance, but tempted by the dark side of possibility. It made me angry at a system that keeps failing them. But it also made me grateful for filmmakers like Adetiba who are telling these kinds of stories. Stories that don’t just entertain, but interrogate.
This is more than a crime thriller. It’s a meditation on tech ethics, societal failure, and the blurred lines between genius and madness.
Final Thoughts
In an era where Nigeria is pushing to become Africa’s tech capital, To Kill A Monkey is a necessary mirror. It forces us to look beyond the funding rounds and startup PR into the messy, often ignored trenches where many innovators live and grind. It shows us what happens when brilliance goes unsupported and what AI can become when handled by the wrong hearts.
It’s a powerful, regionally grounded, and emotionally intelligent film. And if you’re paying attention, it’s more than just a movie; it’s a warning.
