Francis Duru’s last interview: Theatre an accident that became my calling

By Juliana Taiwo-Obalonye

The interview was scheduled for publication last Saturday, but a rush of adverts halted the plan. It was moved to today.

Unfortunately, the unexpected happened on Friday, and the demise of iconic thespian, Francis Duru, was announced by his family.

As the nation mourns the departed Nollywood star, below is the last interview he granted Saturday Sun before his transition.

The day Francis Duru stepped into a theatre production to replace an absent actor, he had no idea he was beginning a career that would span 36 years – and counting – and more than 150 films.

What began as a favour to a friend became a defining moment. Duru moved from theatre to television and film, becoming one of the familiar faces of Nigeria’s evolving entertainment industry—from the home-video era and the rise of Nollywood to today’s streaming age.

Born in Bamenda, Cameroon, on July 27, 1967, Duru returned to Nigeria and endured the challenges of establishing himself in Lagos. His breakthrough came with Rattlesnake, but his career has since extended beyond acting into advocacy and development communication, including work with UNICEF and other development partners.

Now approaching 60 and pursuing a doctorate in development communication, Duru believes the creative arts should do more than entertain—they should educate, preserve culture and contribute to social development.

Can you tell us a bit about your childhood?

I was born in the Cameroons on July 27, 1967 — not 1969. I was born in Bamenda, Mankon, in the North-West Province of Cameroon, where English is spoken.

I attended St Joseph’s College, Mankon, and Sacred Heart College, where I left in 1984 and returned to Nigeria with my father. I continued at St Thomas Aquinas until 1990, when I got my first admission into the Theatre Arts Certificate Programme at the University of Port Harcourt. I later continued to the BA programme in Theatre Arts.

So, predominantly, my foundation was laid in Cameroon. Sacred Heart College, in particular, formed the core of my academic development, from secondary school, while St Joseph’s College was also an important part of my early education.

Is there any backstory to why your family was in Cameroon?

There was a civil war at the time. My father was part of a group of kinsmen who went over there, and that was how we found ourselves in Cameroon. We were essentially fleeing the conflict.

What was your ambition like growing up?

Growing up, you really wanted to become somebody, but you did not necessarily know who you wanted to become. You did not have that motivation telling you, “This is exactly who you are going to become.”

The church provided that foundation for me. I was an altar server, and as I mingled with my classmates in secondary school, we all had ambitions—to become lawyers and so on. But we did not have a definite push.

Actually, that continued throughout my life until I found my calling in Theatre Arts. My case was more or less that of a rolling stone, but stopping at the right places. I believe that was part of my destiny. At every place I stopped, I was being built to move on until I finally got into what God called me to do in theatre.

In 1989 or 1990, I followed a friend just to watch a drama at the Repertory Theatre. It was a Sette Productions by Paul Uriel Worika, who was the first director of Basi and Company. I went there simply to help my friend.

Lo and behold, they had a problem. One of the cast members —the person who was supposed to play a particular role did not show up. I said, “I can try it,” and that was how my journey into theatre started.

From there, I joined Sette Productions, went for auditions, met people in the creative industry, interacted with lecturers in the Theatre Arts Department and gradually discovered my talent.

They told me I needed to go to the University of Port Harcourt, and from there, the journey began.

So, it was more or less accidental—you stepped in, discovered your talent and enjoyed it. How did that experience lead to your decision to study Theatre Arts at university?

UTME was a major hurdle for me. After completing WASSCE, I was strong in the arts, with As in History, Literature and other subjects, but got a P7 in Mathematics. I was actually happy because I joked that Mathematics might force me into a “second missionary journey” if I failed to gain admission.

Having left secondary school in 1986, I struggled to understand Nigeria’s admission system because, in Cameroon, O-Level was followed by A-Level and then university. I wrote JAMB several times and did well, but the cut-off points remained a challenge. I applied for Mass Communication and Law and even lost money to someone who promised to help me secure admission.

Eventually, I joined Sette Productions and discovered Theatre Arts. At Telefest in Port Harcourt, Professor Marcelo advised me to pursue the one-year professional Certificate Course in Theatre Arts rather than the degree programme. I took his advice, and after that year, I was professionally prepared for the industry.

By then, my drama sketches with Hogan had made “Francis and Hogan” popular in Rivers State. After the course, The Missing Mask came our way from Aba, and I was given the lead role. I had not auditioned; the opportunity came because I was prepared.

Later, I joined Julius Agwu, Victor Osuagwu and others in Lagos for the Rattlesnake audition. With help from senior colleagues such as Uche Obonna and Sam Dede, we got opportunities that led to more auditions. Eventually, many of us from the University of Port Harcourt became part of Rattlesnake, and its release pushed me into the limelight.

Looking back, my journey was shaped by setbacks, mentorship, preparation and opportunities that I was ready to seize.

It looks as if it was all smooth sailing from what you said?

It was not rosy at all. Those early days in Lagos were tough, from finding accommodation to feeding. But we were fortunate to have people who believed in us and were willing to help.

One of them was Ejike Asiegbu. Because of his large heart and our relationship, he opened his doors to us. By the time we left the University of Port Harcourt, we were already working professionals. During our Certificate Course in Theatre Arts, we had become popular on campus, performed skits outside the university and featured in private productions by lecturers. We knew our abilities and had begun building relationships with seniors already established in the industry.

When we arrived in Lagos, Ejike was living with his twin sisters in Palmgrove, and he accommodated me. We would wake up, clean up and head to a woman’s food spot where he had an arrangement to eat. All of us would go there together.

When he eventually bought a small car, he would drop his sister at work, return to pick us up and drive us around for auditions. That support made a huge difference.

But there were also difficult moments. I remember being asked to leave a cousin’s house because he was away and his younger brother objected to me staying in the parlour. I had to fend for myself. It was a journey filled with rough patches, uncertainty and hardship.

Yet, strangely, the difficulties did not discourage us. Our focus was always the next audition or production. We were passionate about acting. Whether we were paid or not, whenever any of us had money, we pooled it together and found something to eat. And somehow, help always came.

Ejike was truly God-sent to us. We kept pushing, often without realising that we were making progress, until Rattlesnake finally clicked. That production changed everything and propelled us into the limelight. The rest, as they say, became history.

How did your family receive your decision to go into theatre arts?

They never really had a problem with my decision because I had already left home in Cameroon. When my mother learned I was doing theatre, she came to see me at the university. I was in my rehearsal clothes, which surprised her.

She watched our rehearsal and asked, “Is this what you want to do?” I said yes, and she simply prayed for me. May her soul rest in peace.

Beyond acting, you’ve worked as an emcee and with international organisations. How did these opportunities come about, and how have they shaped your experience?

My career as an emcee began in Lagos. When A Night of a Thousand Laughs by Opa Williams came to the University of Lagos, my popularity with Francis and Hogan earned me a place in the show. It exposed me to stand-up comedy, event hosting and other forms of entertainment.

When I moved to Abuja around 2000 or 2001, I drew on that experience. I had become frustrated with Lagos, where productions were often delayed and payments uncertain, and I wanted a new environment.

During a visit to Abuja for a wedding, I met Richard Osama, popularly known as Daddy Richie, a friend of Ejike Asiegbu. He encouraged me to relocate, offered me accommodation, taught me proposal writing and introduced me to development projects.

My involvement with Family Worship Centre became another turning point. After giving my life to Christ, I became active in the church, hosting weddings and other events and participating in drama productions. People began recognising my abilities and referring me for jobs.

Through church connections, I started producing advocacy dramas for UNICEF and other development partners, while also securing major emceeing and creative projects, including assignments connected to the State House and Democracy Day celebrations.

One opportunity came through a church member close to President Olusegun Obasanjo, who asked me to handle the send-off of his ADCs at the Presidential Villa. Another came through a church member at the Ministry of Information, who invited me to develop a drama around the Democracy Day theme, A Bond Too Strong. The proposal reached the then Information Minister, Jerry Gana, and I was invited to work on the project.

That was how acting, emceeing, advocacy and development communication began to converge. Family Worship Centre became a major platform for my growth. The principle was simple: someone would say, “He is my brother in church; I know he can do it.” Once you delivered with excellence, another opportunity followed. That cycle of trust, referrals and performance continued to expand my career.

Looking back at your career so far, can you say roughly how many movies you have featured in?

I’ve honestly lost count, but I know I’ve done more than 150 films, and that is only what I can remember. I still have about 20 to 25 unreleased movies, so there are several projects audiences have yet to see.

For me, it is not just about the number of films. It is about the journey—the different characters I have played, the people I have worked with and the experiences each production has brought. Every project has contributed to my growth and evolution as an actor.

Produced by others or yourself?

Yes, I have produced several projects, though not mainstream movies in the conventional commercial sense. Most were advocacy productions designed to educate, raise awareness and address specific social issues.

Over the years, I have used drama and storytelling as tools for public education, advocacy and social development. For me, the focus has always been the message and its impact. If my talent can educate people, influence behaviour and draw attention to important issues, then I am contributing meaningfully to society.

How do you define the South-East’s role as a foundation of Nollywood, and how does that history fit alongside earlier Nigerian theatre and film pioneers such as Hubert Ogunde and practitioners from other parts of the country?

What I mean by Nollywood is that the phenomenon we know today took off with Kenneth Nnebue’s Living in Bondage. I have great respect for the Yoruba theatre and home-video traditions, particularly the pioneering work of Hubert Ogunde, but Living in Bondage created a new level of momentum and visibility.

Its success triggered the growth of Igbo-language home videos, which soon evolved into English-language productions, bringing together actors and practitioners from the South-East, Yoruba-speaking communities and other parts of Nigeria. Films such as Rattlesnake, Nneka the Pretty Serpent and Taboo followed, tackling social issues such as ritual killings and 419.

The marketers based around Idumota, Opebi, Pound Road and other commercial centres were also crucial. They financed, distributed and produced films on a scale that created the volume and commercial momentum that eventually attracted international attention. The industry expanded beyond the South-East to the North, Ghana and other parts of Africa.

So, while I acknowledge the contributions of earlier pioneers such as Hubert Ogunde and the Yoruba theatre tradition, my point is that Kenneth Nnebue’s Living in Bondage sparked the particular home-video phenomenon that evolved into what we now call Nollywood. That is the history I witnessed, and I believe the role of the early Igbo marketers and filmmakers in building that movement should be recognised.

How has Nollywood’s transition from home videos to cinema and now streaming platforms changed the industry? What has it gained, lost, and what are its biggest challenges and lessons today?

Nollywood has evolved tremendously, moving from home videos to cinema and streaming. We may not be where we should be, but we have certainly moved forward. The world is paying attention and waiting to see what more we can achieve.

However, streaming remains a major challenge. Many quality films struggle to reach platforms like Netflix or find the right audience. Despite our population and creative talent, we have not developed and sustained home-grown streaming platforms capable of serving Nigeria and the wider West African market.

Imagine a regional platform attracting 30 million viewers. The potential is enormous. These are the gaps we must address and the opportunities we must seize to take Nollywood further.

So, who will fill the gaps?

There are people working on it, including those who have invested in cinema for years. But I particularly commend the Yoruba film industry for how it has used film to preserve and showcase Nigerian culture. They have gone beyond traditional epics to tell stories about historical figures, personalities and different aspects of our heritage.

Films such as Colour of Fire and Colour of Water, as well as stories about Fela’s mother, demonstrate how Yoruba productions can tell distinctly Nigerian stories that resonate beyond one ethnic group.

I believe the North and South-East can do the same by drawing from their rich cultural heritage. If every region tells its stories well and puts them on the global stage, it will be difficult for the world to ignore Nigeria.

We have extraordinary landscapes, histories and traditions that have already attracted international journalists and audiences. Yet, we have barely scratched the surface. There is still enormous potential to use film and cinema to preserve our heritage and introduce it to the world.

With films from Kunle Afolayan, Funke Akindele, Toyin Abraham and others competing for audiences, concerns have grown over crowded release dates and cinemas favouring certain productions. From your experience, what is driving this problem, and what needs to change?

What we need to do is have a common strategy that can help every movie thrive. Don’t forget, it is a capitalist-natured enterprise. So, whether you like it or not, there will be competition and, sometimes, unhealthy rivalry, just as you find in every business.

It is business. These people put money into it, and they need to protect their investments.

So, we need a common strategy that can ensure that any movie you release has the opportunity to generate significant revenue before it leaves the market. That is the void I believe we need to fill.

Is it possible to release five movies at the same time and have all of them succeed? These rivalries are born out of the fact that everybody wants to protect their own movies.

So, what is the solution? Is it coming from the actors themselves?

No. Like I said, if you have a common streaming platform that allows people to come in easily and showcase their work, that is what we need.

If it becomes a problem, we create the solution. And that solution must not come only from the actors and producers. We have people who are into business. We have banks and other institutions that can also play a role.

Look at Globacom. When it came, it was a disruptive innovation. It disrupted the market and forced others to respond. Today, Glo remains a telecommunications company that Nigerians can be proud of as a proudly Nigerian brand. If you look at their content, from their adverts to everything else, it is proudly Nigerian.

The point is, can we also do that in the film industry, particularly in streaming? So, these are some of the solutions. The question is: Who will bail the cat?

How would you assess government support for the industry so far?

Government support has largely been palliative rather than sustainable. There is a need for stronger policies, financing and an enabling environment, particularly from the Ministry of Industry, Trade and Investment.

The government has made efforts, such as the Nollywood Road Show with the Nigerian Export Promotion Council, which took us to The Gambia, Kenya and Namibia for master classes and cultural exchanges. But more can be done through public-private partnerships. Afreximbank’s CANEX initiative is also important, although there is still room to deepen its impact.

We also need to look beyond cinemas and streaming. VCDs may seem outdated, but they still serve audiences at the lower end of the market. The question is: how much revenue are we leaving on the table by ignoring these audiences?

Not everyone can afford regular cinema visits, especially in difficult economic times. Why not develop affordable community cinemas, even in places such as Mararaba, dedicated to Nigerian films?

Ultimately, filmmakers need reliable distribution and marketing channels. When producers do not know where their audience or market is, investment becomes risky, and many productions end up with their money tied down. We must build systems that take Nigerian films to audiences across the income spectrum, both locally and globally.

Do you share Omotola Jalade-Ekeinde’s concern that, despite a film’s large box-office gross, producers can end up with very little after deductions? And if so, what practical steps could help address this imbalance in Nollywood?

Endorsements and partnerships can help reduce production costs, but ultimately, every filmmaker has to find a model that works for their audience and allows sustainable production.

The industry is already evolving. Some creators, such as Isbae U, have built successful models around YouTube, showing that filmmakers can no longer rely solely on the traditional cinema model. The key is to explore different platforms, reach audiences where they are, recover investments and keep producing.

But as more creators move to YouTube, we must also ensure the streaming industry does not suffer. The future should be about developing multiple platforms and sustainable models rather than abandoning one for another.

We used to watch good movies and series on NTA, but we don’t have that anymore…?

What government policies are actually driving the growth of the creative industry? Platforms such as StarTimes exist, but I believe the sector still lacks sufficient policy attention.

Development partners and policymakers need to recognise the creative industry as a major economic opportunity. We should be asking: How much revenue does the sector generate? How much does it contribute to the economy? And what policies and investments can help it grow?

The creative industry is creating significant value, yet its economic contribution is rarely discussed with the same seriousness as other sectors. There is clearly a policy gap that needs to be addressed.

Who should drive such a conversation?

It starts with the ministries, particularly the Ministry of Culture and Tourism and the Ministry of Industry, Trade and Investment. Government needs reliable data on Nollywood’s economic value, employment, challenges and potential before it can properly support and promote the industry.

We often claim that Nigeria has the world’s third-largest film industry, but such claims must be backed by credible data. We need to know exactly how much Nollywood contributes to the economy, the jobs it creates and its wider value to Nigeria.

Beyond entertainment, what role can Nollywood play in addressing societal challenges? And are today’s films tackling these issues as effectively as Living in Bondage and other early productions?

I can speak from my own experience. People have met me and told me that some of my films changed their perception of life and made them reflect on what they would do in similar situations.

I met a man in the United States who told me that my role in Rattlesnake inspired him to leave his village for Lagos. Things worked out for him, and that journey eventually took him to America.

That is the power of film. Movies can reach people’s minds, shape perspectives and plant ideas in ways that go beyond entertainment. Even when a film is imperfect, there is often a message or experience audiences can take away.

Film also provides a powerful platform for advocacy, awareness and social change. Through their work on and off screen, actors can draw attention to important issues and influence conversations. That is how far Nigerian film has come—within the country and beyond.

Having worked with different generations of actors, how do you see the industry today? What are the younger practitioners doing well, and what areas do you think still need attention?

Today, there seems to be more emphasis on fame, popularity and money, with less attention to passion, discipline and professional ethics. For me, professional discipline, alongside the grace of God, has been the foundation of my 36-year career.

The quick-rise mentality is a problem. Someone can enter the industry, get featured in several productions and suddenly become popular without properly learning the craft. I always advise young practitioners to learn the ropes, build their skills and grow through the process.

My principle is simple: “When you jump up, you come down; but when you grow up, you stay up.” That discipline has sustained me throughout my career.

You’ve spent 36 years in the industry, which means you’ll mark four decades in another four years. Do you have any plans to commemorate the milestone?

Next year will be my 60th birthday, and after almost 40 years in the industry, it will be a significant milestone. I plan to mark it, not just as a celebration of age, but as an opportunity to reflect on my journey, the people I have worked with, the experiences I have gained and how far I have come. It is a landmark that deserves to be properly celebrated.

Despite your achievements and demanding schedule, you chose to return to school. What inspired that?

What inspired me was my growing involvement in development issues. I wanted to understand development communication more deeply and bring my work in entertainment under that broader framework. That led me to the Institute of Strategic and Development Communication (ISDEVCOM), Nasarawa State University, Keffi.

I particularly appreciate Professor Emmanuel DanDaura for inspiring the programme, as well as friends and mentors including Dr Innocent Michael (CJ Nations), Dr Emmanuel Onchono, Dr Azubuike Erinugha, Dr George Ndukwu and the current NIPR Registrar, Chief Uzoma Onyegbadue, among others, for encouraging me to pursue my doctorate.

For me, it is about looking beyond entertainment and understanding how film, drama and other creative forms can communicate ideas, raise awareness and contribute meaningfully to social and economic development.

Nigeria just marked another Independence anniversary. What message do you have for entertainers and creatives amid challenges such as corruption, ethnic divisions and the growing role of religion in elections?

I believe Nigeria is at a critical point, and we need to be honest about our problems and focus on finding people who can genuinely address them, regardless of their ethnic or religious background. What we need is leadership, competence and a sense of responsibility—leaders who see public office as service.

As entertainers and creatives, we also have a responsibility. Our platforms reach millions, so we must use our influence responsibly rather than allow ethnicity, religion or political affiliation to divide us. We should encourage people to look beyond identity and consider competence, capacity and commitment to service.

Through our films, music, comedy and other creative works, we can promote unity, tolerance and responsible citizenship, challenge divisions and help tell the story of the Nigeria we want to build. Leadership requires sacrifice, but citizenship also demands responsibility, and creatives have a role to play.

How can the church disciple young people, build strong values and prepare them for the marketplace?

I have been at Family Worship Centre for more than 23 years, and one of our key commitments has been moulding leaders. Our messages consistently emphasise true leadership, and this year’s Independence Day theme, “Leadership versus Popularity,” reflects that focus.

Over the years, we have raised young men and women who now occupy leadership positions and are expressing godly values in their workplaces. Some of the children I taught have grown into leaders, and that is one of the church’s important responsibilities.

When we say, “Know Jesus for yourself,” we are pointing people to a model of true leadership. The question is how much of His character we reflect in our own lives and leadership.

The process starts early. A child may come to church confused, lacking confidence or direction, but through mentorship, skills development and consistent support, that child can discover purpose, build confidence and eventually become a productive leader.

If we are serious about shaping the next generation, we must confront behaviours we have normalised. One child, when asked what the New Nigeria needs, simply answered, “We need courage.” That stayed with me.

Change begins in the home, is reinforced in the church and must extend into society. If we deliberately build character, confidence, purpose and leadership in our children, we can help shape a better generation.

How do you balance work, family and self-care, and how do you unwind when you get some time for yourself?

For me, the balance revolves around three things: spirituality, family and work. The physical body has sometimes paid the price, and I have had to seek medical attention after periods of burnout.

Church, family and work can be demanding. There are times I finish church service and go straight into rehearsals with the children, or travel because a job requires it. The key is ensuring that one does not take undue advantage of the other.

I am learning to recognise the signs of exhaustion and slow down when necessary. Ultimately, balance means giving attention to work, family and spirituality while remembering that the body also needs care.

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