I Lived Like a Nollywood Villain for 24 Hours—And It Ended in Chaos

Morning: The Transformation Begins

I woke up and chose violence. Not literal violence (abeg, I still like my freedom), but the over-the-top, slow-motion-turn-to-camera, evil-laugh type of Nollywood villain energy. Today, I was no longer my humble self; I was Chief Don Dada, Destroyer of Destinies, the one who drinks whiskey at 8 AM and strokes an invisible beard while plotting.

To set the mood, I wore my most intimidating outfit: agbada, dark shades, and gold chains that could double as dumbbells. I practiced my villain walk in the mirror—slow strides, one dramatic pause every few steps. The soundtrack in my head? Dun dun DUNNNNN!

Buka Wahala: “You Don Kolo?”

Breakfast was at my local buka. Normally, I’d order humbly, but today? No.

“Madam, give me two wraps of pounded yam, egusi, and add orisirisi meat. But before you serve it, bring me a chair, let me sit like a king.”

The woman gave me a long look, hissed, and said, “Oga, this na buka, no be palace.” A few people turned to stare. One guy whispered, “This one don kolo.”

I smirked. Perfect.

As I ate, I steepled my fingers like Kanayo O. Kanayo mid-sacrifice scene, taking slow, dramatic bites. Every now and then, I nodded and muttered, “Good. Very good.” At some point, the guy beside me shifted away, clutching his plate like I might cast a Nollywood spell on him.

Uber Wahala: The Ride of Doom

I booked a ride to the next location (aka anywhere I could continue my villainy). The Uber driver arrived, and I entered with full dramatic effect. I adjusted my agbada, sighed deeply, and in a low voice, I said, “Nothing is ever okay.”

The driver peeked at me through the rearview mirror. “Oga, you dey alright?”

I leaned closer. “Driver, drive. And do not ask questions.”

Omo. The way this man pressed accelerator ehn?! He didn’t even wait for Google Maps. We were flying. At some point, he muttered, “God abeg oh.”

The Ultimate Test: Nigerian Mother Reaction

When I got home, my mother was in the living room, minding her business.

“Mummy,” I said, deepening my voice. “From today, you shall call me Chief Don Dada.”

She didn’t look up. “You shall carry this your nonsense and wash the plates in the sink.”

Omo, final boss defeated.

Outro: What I Learned from My Nollywood Villain Era

• Nigerians don’t have time for theatrics. You can be as dramatic as you want, but nobody will take you seriously when rice is 1k per plate.
• Uber drivers don’t play. Say one mysterious thing and they will overspeed straight into your destiny.
• Mothers remain undefeated. No amount of agbada or evil laughter can shake them.

Would I do this again? Maybe, but next time, I’d get a henchman. Who’s in? Comment below, and let’s plot world domination together. 👀

Hey Luv, Waitttttttt. Feel More Crackko Vibe:

Ever wondered what happens when you mix ancient traditions with modern social media? Find out in our collection of thought-provoking cultural stories in Cultural Experiments.