In the heart-pounding world of Nollywood thrillers, few films arrive with the timeliness and controversy of The Herd. Directed by Daniel Etim Effiong in his feature debut, this Netflix original transforms a joyous wedding celebration into a nightmarish survival saga, thrusting a group of friends into the clutches of armed kidnappers disguised as cattle herders. Released in Nigerian cinemas on October 17, 2025, and streaming globally since November 21, the movie has grossed over ₦80 million at the box office while sparking a firestorm on X (formerly Twitter). At its core, The Herd isn't just entertainment it's a raw confrontation with Nigeria's escalating insecurity crisis, but one that's dividing audiences over its portrayal of ethnic identities and the limits of artistic truth-telling.
A Plot That Feels Eerily Real
Set against the lush yet treacherous landscapes of Ekiti State, The Herd follows Gosi (Daniel Etim Effiong), a man grappling with his wife's cancer scare, as he attends his best friend Derin's wedding. The festivities peak with laughter and dance, only for the convoy to be ambushed on a lonely highway by gunmen who emerge from a herd of cattle, guns blazing. What unfolds is a tense hostage drama laced with moral dilemmas, desperate negotiations, and unflinching violence. Starring a powerhouse ensemble including Mercy Aigbe, Kunle Remi, Genoveva Umeh, Deyemi Okanlawon, Tina Mba, Lateef Adedimeji, and Blessing Jessica Obasi-Nze, the film clocks in at 121 minutes of unrelenting suspense.
Critics and viewers alike have praised its technical prowess: the sound design mimics the chaos of real abductions, the cinematography captures the claustrophobia of forest hideouts, and the script weaves personal trauma with national horror. As one X user put it, "The Herd isn’t fiction anymore, it’s Nigeria’s present." With over 1,000 kidnappings reported in the past year alone, the movie's highway ambush scene feels ripped from headlines echoing recent attacks in Kwara, Kebbi, and Niger states. It's no wonder the film has an 8.1 IMDb rating, with fans calling it "superb" for daring to spotlight a crisis that "affects millions."
Yet, for all its visceral impact, The Herd stumbles in places. Some reviewers note predictable plotting and underdeveloped side characters, with the final act leaving loose ends dangling like unresolved ransoms. Still, its refusal to sugarcoat the randomness of violence turning a sacred event into a slaughterhouse has made it a must-watch, even if it leaves audiences haunted.
The X Storm: From Praise to Calls for a Ban
If The Herd mirrors Nigeria's nightmares, X has become the arena where those nightmares are dissected and weaponized. Since its Netflix drop, the platform has erupted with over 20,000 posts under hashtags like #TheHerd and #NigerianInsecurity, blending acclaim for its boldness with accusations of ethnic bias.
On one side, supporters hail the film as a wake-up call. "This movie isn’t just entertainment. It mirrors the reality many Nigerians face daily," tweeted @001Xtasy, capturing the sentiment of those who see it as a catalyst for dialogue on government failures. Filmmaker Daniel Etim-Effiong himself has been lauded for his "bold" vision, with users like @UnlimitedEniola urging, "Take your flowers... It’s a true reflection on the level of insecurity in Nigeria." For many, the film's unapologetic gaze at banditry over 30,000 lives lost since 2010, per Amnesty International reports outweighs any flaws. "If the truth makes some people angry, the problem is not the movie," one defender argued, pointing to the "exact modus operandi" of real kidnappers.
But the backlash is fierce, particularly from northern voices decrying ethnic stereotyping. Former presidential aide Bashir Ahmad's viral thread garnering over 3,000 likes laid bare the grievances: "The overwhelming majority of Fulani herders are innocent and also among the very victims... Producing a movie to profile them all as armed kidnappers only reinforces a harmful stereotype." Echoing this, @UstazofArewa warned that the trailer's "one-dimensional story" risks global stigma, turning innocent pastoralists into "targets of discrimination." Calls for a ban have surfaced, with some accusing the film of "demonising Fulani herders" and fueling division in a nation already scarred by farmer-herder clashes. As @AyoDaReporter quipped in response, "It’s funny how a movie suddenly becomes ‘stereotyping’ but mass kidnappings never caused this outrage."
The debate underscores a deeper tension: Nigeria's insecurity isn't just about bandits it's a web of land disputes, economic neglect, and ethnic mistrust. Critics like Ahmad argue filmmakers should consult stakeholders for nuance, while fans counter that fiction isn't a documentary; it's a spark for uncomfortable conversations.
Art as a Mirror: Reflection or Distortion?
The Herd arrives at a pivotal moment for Nollywood. As streaming giants like Netflix pour resources into African content, films are no longer local whispers they're global shouts. This thriller, produced by Toritori Films, FilmOne Studios, and Airscape Studio, exemplifies the industry's shift toward gritty realism, much like The Black Book or Jagun Jagun. But it also raises thorny questions: Can art indict a crisis without indicting a people? In a country where over 1,000 abductions mar the year, does The Herd humanize victims or vilify the vulnerable?
Effiong's intent, per cast interviews, was to "spark dialogue on justice and safety." Yet, as X threads multiply, it's clear the conversation has veered into calls for accountability from filmmakers, to leaders, to all Nigerians. One user summed it up: "When a movie like The Herd feels like a documentary... you know things are bad."
Why You Should Watch (or Skip) The Herd
For thriller aficionados, The Herd delivers edge-of-your-seat tension with stellar performances Umeh's magnetic resilience and Effiong's haunted desperation stand out. It's a testament to Nollywood's evolution: no more bumbling cops or tidy endings; just the brutal poetry of survival. Stream it on Netflix if you're ready to confront Nigeria's shadows.
But if ethnic sensitivities hit close to home, approach with caution. This isn't escapism it's a provocation. As the X frenzy shows, The Herd has herded us all into a national reckoning: Insecurity isn't abstract; it's us, divided and demanding better.
What do you think? does the film cross a line, or is it the mirror we need?