Hijack ’93 had the potential to highlight a defining moment in Nigeria’s quest for democracy at a time when the military ruled with an iron hand. Yet, this Netflix film based on true events stumbles as it leaves viewers with more questions than answers about the hijackers’ motivations and the intensity of the circumstances.
On Monday, October 25, 1993, amid the unrest that followed the annulment of the June 12, 1993, Nigerian election, Richard Ogundero Kabir Adenuga, Benneth Oluwadaisi, and Kenny Rasaq-Lawal; who were all members of the Movement for Advancement of Democracy (MAD), took a daring action that reverberated across the world.
They joined passengers in Lagos to board Nigerian Airways bus A310 aircraft flying from Lagos to Abuja. As soon as the flight cruised 30,000km above sea level, they held all passengers and crew members, hostage, ‘with guns’. They hijacked the plane and commandeered the pilot.
As one of the most significant stories in our country’s struggle, the hijacking of a plane by young adults in pursuit of democratic reforms warranted a more compelling treatment than Hijack ’93 rendered.
The way the film addressed the political tension in the country at the time is puzzling. For a movie meant to delve into the fight for democracy, there’s little attempt to connect the dots between the hijackers’ grievances and the government they’re supposedly up against.
The narrative lets us in on each hijacker’s personal story, but none of it directly indicts the military regime they’re protesting. Without a clear depiction of the oppressions and frustrations that fueled the hijack, the democratic cause fails to land with viewers.
Historically, the film drops the ball as well. For a story set in the turbulent June 12 election era, omitting any direct mention of MKO Abiola as the democratically elected figure feels like a missed opportunity.
Bringing Abiola’s name into the script would have grounded the narrative in its true historical weight. A Neusroom feature also reveals that the real hijackers used toy guns, unlike the paranoid portrayal we see onscreen which then leads to the violent death of the beloved character of the translator.
Plot gaps are almost inevitable but the portrayal of the kidnapped passengers after the plane lands in Niger Republic stretches the bounds of believability. We see them relaxed, even sleeping off mid-hijack, and not a flicker of tension or panic to sell the stakes.
The hijackers themselves engage in multiple lengthy conversations within earshot of the passengers, with no attempt from the hostages to seize the opportunity to overpower them. Is this the Nigeria we know? The lack of urgency simply doesn’t resonate.
As if that weren’t enough, the film drags, falling back on uninspired dialogue and leaving action moments conspicuously lacking. Hijack ’93 misses multiple chances to heighten suspense, not least the scene of a childbirth onboard.
When it comes to casting, the choices seem underutilized. Nancy Isime, a bona fide talent nearing A-list status, is reduced to an almost invisible flight attendant. This role could have promoted a fresh face or, if given more screen time, added depth to the movie with Isime’s already proven talents.
The standout actor here is Skipper, particularly in one tear-jerking scene where he prays for his mother’s life, a truly moving moment and a rare bright spot in Nollywood’s emotional repertoire in 2024.
Despite its historical significance, Hijack ’93 feels like a missed opportunity. This story should have deepened our understanding of the personal and political stakes of the June 12 era.
Viewers are presented with a fictionalized account that, while acknowledging its creative liberties, fails to adequately convey the seriousness of the democratic struggle.
