Every year, the Africa Magic Viewers’ Choice Awards (AMVCA) lights up Lagos, showering the continent’s film and television industry with glamour, recognition, and a much-needed platform. Organised by MultiChoice, the AMVCA has undeniably done a fantastic job promoting African creativity and rewarding the immense talent driving Nollywood and beyond.
Yet, almost as reliably as the red carpet dazzles, each edition concludes, leaving a trail of controversy and a fan base feeling perplexed, and sometimes even cheated. Why does an award, ostensibly celebrating the “Viewer’s Choice,” consistently spark debate that suggests the viewers’ choice is anything but paramount?
The heart of the matter lies in an identity crisis, a fundamental disconnect between the award’s name and its evolving reality.
While initially leaning heavily on public votes when it held its first edition more than a decade ago, the AMVCA has shifted towards a hybrid model. In the most recent edition, a significant majority of categories – 16 out of 25 in 2024, for instance – are decided by a panel of esteemed industry judges led by veteran filmmaker Femi Odugbemi. Only a handful, like Best Digital Content Creator, remain solely in the hands of the voting public, and these are not necessarily the fan-favourites.
There’s a sound rationale behind incorporating a jury.
As the AMVCA grew in prestige over the years, the argument for ensuring critical merit outweighs sheer popularity, especially in technical and core performance categories, gained traction. Aligning with global standards like the Oscars, where peer review determines winners, seems a logical step for an award aspiring to international credibility. The organisers’ decision to split categories appears reasonable on the surface – an attempt to balance critical acclaim with popular appeal.
However, this evolution, however well-intentioned, contradicts the promise in the award’s name. When you call something a “Viewer’s Choice” award, you set a clear expectation: the audience holds the power. This branding becomes problematic, even misleading, when the reality is vastly different. The frustration isn’t necessarily with having a jury; it’s with the lack of transparency and the feeling that the “viewer” aspect is being diluted or disregarded, particularly when it comes to eligibility.
Consider the recurring issue of nominated films having limited public exposure. The official AMVCA guidelines stipulate eligibility for films “produced and broadcast or publicly exhibited” within the qualifying year. One assumes “publicly exhibited” means accessible to the general viewing public via cinemas, streaming platforms, or television. Yet, recent editions have seen nominations, and even wins, for films primarily screened at exclusive film festivals.
The Film of the Year, at the 11th edition, Freedom Way, and Skeleton Coast, another movie that received multiple nominations, are examples of nominees largely unseen by the average viewer, whose “choice” the award supposedly represents.
This isn’t merely a semantic issue; it strikes at the award’s core premise. How can viewers genuinely make a choice, or even feel represented by the choices made, regarding films they haven’t had a reasonable opportunity to see? If festival screenings qualify as public exhibitions for nomination purposes, that definition needs explicit clarification.
Otherwise, it fuels suspicion that the awards cater more to industry insiders than the broad audience implied by the name.
The irony is that the audience-voted categories often feel more straightforward and believable, precisely because the mechanism (public vote) is transparent, even if influenced by online campaigns. This paradox, where the “viewer’s choice” feels most authentic in the few categories truly left to viewers, is the identity crisis of the AMVCA.
So, what’s the way forward for the AMVCA?
The current situation, where the name promises one thing and the process delivers another, is unsustainable if the AMVCA aims for enduring credibility. Two primary solutions emerge, echoing the sentiments of many frustrated fans and observers:
First, if the AMVCA wants to become Africa’s premier jury-led film award, focusing on critical merit and industry recognition, then it should own that identity. Rebrand the awards to reflect the significant role of the jury.
Call it the Africa Magic Film & Television Awards, or something similar that accurately represents the process. This manages expectations and allows the jury’s decisions to be evaluated on their own terms, without the misleading “Viewer’s Choice” term.
The other way forward is to honour the name and empower the viewers and lean fully into the “Viewer’s Choice” concept. Make all, or at least a much larger majority, of the categories public-voted.
Yes, this might lead to results driven by popularity, social media campaigns, or fan armies. But it would be transparent and true to the award’s name. Filmmakers and fans would understand the rules of the game – it’s about mobilising your audience. This approach might even encourage filmmakers rumoured to be at odds with organisers, assuring them that outcomes rest solely with the public.
The AMVCA cannot credibly be both the Oscars and the People’s Choice Awards simultaneously. Trying to occupy both spaces creates confusion, fuels controversy, and risks alienating the very viewers and creators it aims to celebrate.
MultiChoice has built a powerful, vital platform for African storytelling. To secure its legacy and truly rise to its ambitions, it must make a clear choice about what the AMVCA stands for and align its name, processes, and communication accordingly. The viewers – and the industry – deserve that clarity.
