By Enitan Abdultawab

In the shimmering tapestry of cinematic storytelling, few narratives resonate as powerfully as ‘Wura.’ As the silver screen changes into a world of fictions and ambitions, the tale unfolds with a central character who becomes a testament to the unyielding spirit of determination. Amidst the fervor of a world that demands conformity, ‘Wura’ stands tall as a shining example of resilience, a symphony of ambition, and a testament to the relentless pursuit of one’s destined role. With each frame, the audience is beckoned to witness a journey that mirrors the very essence of human endeavor, where the pursuit of a purpose isn’t merely a choice but an unbreakable vow.

In 2012, at the Miss United Nations Tourism Pageantry, one Gbemisola Shotade walked down the alley of the parade show with her dazzling emerald green gown which has a touch of yellowish tinge. After the audience had been entertained with glitz and glamour in the large alley hall in Jamaica, the judges announced Nigerian representative, Gbemisola Shotade, as the overall winner of the beauty pageantry. Gbemisola was that innocent proud Nigerian who stole the Nigerian media headlines for weeks and thereafter returned to the country to pursue her music career.

Over the years, a lot of characters have executed their roles into near-perfect characterization. Of course, no one could have thought that the young lady whose sonorous voice resonated in the lyrics of Catch Me, Iya Mi, and other tracks in the record album, The Scarlet Letter, would eventually write her name in the book of Nollywood’s finest actors’ records. Fast forward to 2023, Gbemisola-Shotade-turned-Scarlet Gomez is variegating a very despicable role of a villain to that of action and brilliance.

In her most popular production, Wura; Scarlet Gomez exudes a befitting character of a modern Nigerian woman with a burning ambition and zest. Wura is a perfect image of an African woman who is independent of her husband’s luxury and glamour. Proud, resourceful and enigmatic, Wura Adeleke perfectly shuttles between being a resource company and a mother of two. Apart from this, Wura passionately carries out her duties as a family woman, stringing a strong bond of family hood among all members that make up her immediate Adeleke family. This nature – in the eyes of the immediate family – makes Wura a saint and a dove. At work, Wura is a despotic boss who rides on her workers’ hard work and does fail to reward them afterward. This revelation creates a duo-character personality for Wura Adeleke.

More explicitly, the characterization of Wura is a perfect image of an elite who fears poverty and knows what is at stake if she drowns into a pitfall of penury once more. As the storyline progresses, Wura develops into a top-notch seeker of wealth for posterity sake. This is mimetic of a bunch of elites in Nigerian society who deploy every manner of measures to stay rich (and die rich).

By extension, Wura answers the question of how modern Nigerian women approach elitism. In the past few years, a few modern Nigerian women have taken the reign of authority with acute authority. Western education, socio-political consciousness, and religious freedom have opened a lot of modern Nigerian women to the belief they are susceptible to sexual, economic and social abuse. From the point of amassing wealth to sustaining it, Nigerian women are always on their toes to protect their economic and social status so they will not play second fiddle to their male counterparts in the society. If we take a closer look at Wura’s characterization, her struggle to keep being relevant economically and socially is the fear of being relegated to being a sexual tool to males. While in the prison, Wura reveals to Jeje how she suffers sexual maltreatment from her father during the earliest stages of her life.

“I was sixteen when I got pregnant. I was always abused by my Dad. And my Mum? She was always too drunk to notice. Yes. I hid the pregnancy from everyone in the house for nine good months. I was alone when I went into labour. So, I had no one. So, I knew I had to be strong…”

Apparently, Wura’s statements are an evidence of what shaped her tenacity, especially towards the male gender. Apart from Jeje whom she softpedals her intentions on, she acts ruthlessly against every other male charaters. While she grows up to become the famous Wura Adeleke, she kills a man and frames her business partner for the murder. When Mide works in Wura’s mine, there is no love lost and she eventually forces him to leave the town almost for good. At home, Wura sets limits for her husband. In a way, her husband ensures he doesn’t take any decision without her consent and always tries to weave the family’s heritage around her.

The biggest highlight of the play – the murder of Pa Kuti – is what tests Wura’s strength. However brutal the murder might have been, Wura does not carry out the murder because she doesn’t want him to live but for fears Pa Kuti might go beyond his requests of a half share and bonus. The same fear is what she directly projects into her dealing with Femi.

For all intents and purposes, what we can infer is that women – naturally created to be merciful and benevolent – tend to turn terrifying to live with in a society of men.

Theatrically, Scarlet Gomez wears a complete fabric of action and volition. In one quick glance, it is questionable how Wura manages to keep her usual countenance and still maintains being a mother-angel. In the same vein, Scarlet Gomez deploys a great deal of artistic expertise to produce genuine and fake emotional moments in the movie. At some point, some viewers, including myself, began to let Scarlet Gomes’ great artistry skills endear us. For once – or maybe twice or thrice – Scarlet Gomez might make you forget all about her character and focus on her superb execution of her role.

It is that perfect!

No worries. We will still be treated to plenty actions from Scarlet Gomez and her crew in the much-anticipated episodes.

Scarlet Gomez, let’s have it. We wait.