I couldn’t think of a better way to begin this essay about my conversation with Nora Awolowo than with this: I wore a red T-shirt. Not because I’d spent hours planning it, but because it was the only red I owned. Still, nothing could have been more fitting. Red isn’t just a colour anymore—it’s Nora’s signature, her symbol, her cinematic stamp. After the run she’s had with Red Circle, it might as well be her flag.
Fresh from a whirlwind UK screening tour—London, Milton Keynes, Manchester, Birmingham—Nora’s been booked, blessed, and, admittedly, tired. But it’s the kind of tired that feels earned. The kind that comes from audiences who clap loudly, smile genuinely, and stay back after screenings just to say thank you. For her, that’s the win that matters most.
And yet, Red Circle didn’t just win hearts. It shattered ceilings. In its first weekend, it made ₦33.8 million. By the second weekend, that number had doubled. And by the third, it had crossed ₦101.8 million, making Nora the youngest Nigerian filmmaker to hit nine figures at the box office.
Everywhere you looked, she was there—in a red dress, smiling through it all, that same photo splashed across headlines, now frozen in time. But while the media called it history, Nora called it teamwork. “It didn’t hit me at first,” she said. “I was seeing the numbers, but I hadn’t paused to feel what it meant—until a friend sat me down and said, ‘Do you realise what you’ve done?’”
She’s not big on champagne toasts. No grand celebrations. No fireworks. Instead, she sits quietly in her room, thankful. Because even in this economy—where cinema tickets are a luxury, and attention spans are fighting for breath—people showed up for her film.
Marketing it was another story. She knows the playbook: go viral, get laughs, sell tickets. But with Red Circle, she and her team aimed higher. They built a movement. Red emojis started popping up in bios. People were #JoiningTheCircle ⭕️. The film became a campaign, a conversation, a community. And that was the point.
“You know how Sanwo-Olu posters were everywhere?” she said, laughing. “I wanted that same saturation. I wanted people to dream in red.”
But Nora isn’t just marketing smart. She’s storytelling smart. From documentaries like Nigeria: The Debut, which revisits the 1994 Super Eagles World Cup glory, to Life at Bay, which quietly peels back the life of women on Tarkwa Bay, to Baby Blues, a brave spotlight on postpartum depression—her work is always personal, always purposeful.
Her lens follows the everyday. People haggling in markets, navigating fuel queues, laughing, fighting, surviving. “I take walks and watch how people react,” she says. “Even that tells a story.”
She’s also intentional about women. “We’re complex. We’re powerful. And sometimes, the world doesn’t give us space to be all that. So I make that space with my films.” It’s why Bukky Wright came out of retirement to star in Red Circle. Nora had dreamed of working with her for years. And when it finally happened? Magic.
But this wasn’t always the plan. Nora was an accounting student, the best in her class, with dreams of banking. Filmmaking came almost by accident—during an ASUU strike, through a friend’s offhand suggestion. She picked up a phone camera. Started framing. Then she never stopped.
Today, she’s an AMVCA winner, a record-breaker, and a vocal advocate for women in technical roles—sound engineers, cinematographers, editors—areas often overlooked. She wants more of them, and she’s not shy about it.
Her advice for young creatives? No filters. “Lock in. Block out the noise. Be real. Don’t follow trends. The universe rewards doers.”
When I asked what’s been bringing her joy lately (aside from whiskey, which made her laugh like I’d hit a secret nerve), she spoke of podcasts—real ones, from people who’ve built things from scratch. No “aspire to perspire” fluff, just truth.
Books. Interviews. Quiet. Recovery.
The hustle isn’t over. Not by a long shot. But at 26, Nora Awolowo is already proof that you don’t need to fit into the industry to change it. You just need to be brave enough to build your own circle—and let others in.