Over the weekend, something quietly intriguing happened on Nigerian TV, and no, it wasn’t another Big Brother eviction or celebrity scandal.
It was the release of To Kill a Monkey, Kemi Adetiba’s gritty new Netflix series that didn’t just entertain but unsettled, confronted, and lingered.
Frankly speaking, we’ve grown quite accustomed to a certain type of vibe when it comes to Nigerian movies: a dramatic twist here, a convenient breakthrough there, and then the wealthy prince marries the female protagonist in the final act. But this?
This was different.
This was honest.
This was us.
The Story Behind the Story
Kemi Adetiba is no stranger to bold storytelling. From The Wedding Party to the genre-shifting King of Boys, she’s carved out a niche that marries commercial appeal with social commentary. But To Kill a Monkey is her most grounded work yet. A stripped-down, painfully realistic portrayal of a man slowly worn down by the weight of being overlooked.
The series follows Efemini, a man who isn’t idle, lazy, or criminal. He’s just… stuck. Stuck in debt. Stuck in underpaid jobs. Stuck in a system that rewards noise over nobility. And when an old friend, Oboz, reappears with a too-good-to-be-true opportunity, Efemini’s already fragile world begins to unravel.
What unfolds is less a story about crime and more a story about pressure, the kind that eats away at your morals one tiny compromise at a time.
With that said, here are five powerful lessons we couldn’t ignore watching Kemi Adetiba’s To Kill a Monkey.
1. Not Everyone Turns Bad. Some People Just Run Out of Good Options
One of the most striking things about To Kill a Monkey? Kemi Adetiba’s lessons aren’t forced. They unfold slowly, painfully, and truthfully.
Efemini isn’t your typical antihero. He’s not flashy. He’s not power-hungry. He’s just tired. And tired people don’t always make evil decisions. They make desperate ones.
That’s what this show gets right. It doesn’t paint poverty as laziness, but as a condition that erodes dignity in small, silent ways. The kind of poverty where you’re not chasing luxury but something barely enough to stay afloat.
And when the system offers no exits, even the wrong door starts to look like a way out.
2. Legacy Is Not Built with Big Wins. It’s Built with Quiet, Costly Moments of Integrity
Throughout the show, you get the sense that Efemini doesn’t just want money, he wants to rewrite his story. To prove to his family and himself that he can be the man who changes things.
But legacy, as the show so painfully reveals, isn’t just about ambition. It’s about decisions made in quiet. Integrity held when no one is watching. Lines you refuse to cross even when everything says otherwise.
That’s where many people break. Not because they don’t care about the future, but because the present is screaming too loudly.
3. Loyalty Isn’t Always Clean. Sometimes It’s Complicated…
If there’s one relationship in To Kill a Monkey that leaves your head spinning, it’s the one between Oboz and Efemini. On the surface, it’s brotherhood. “Bros for life.” The kind of connection forged in shared struggle, thick skin, and inside jokes that no one else understands.
But underneath?
It’s messy. It’s manipulative. It’s deeply flawed. And yet, somehow it’s heartbreakinly real.
Not in the way we wish loyalty looked, but in the way it often does in real life.
Oboz brings Efemini into a world he wasn’t built for. Not out of malice, but because he genuinely believed he was offering a way out. And despite all the chaos and betrayal that followed, Oboz never truly stopped seeing Efemini as his brother, even when the latter chose survival over him.
And maybe that’s the complicated lesson:
Loyalty doesn’t always protect you.Sometimes, it just pulls you down gently while holding your hand.
4. Poverty Isn’t Just Absence. It’s Panic, Pressure, and the Death of Pause
Throughout the show, there’s a quiet tension that never lets up. It’s not just about bills. It’s about the mental weight of not knowing what comes next.
Efemini is constantly calculating, every move shaped by fear. Fear of failure. Fear of looking weak. Fear of letting his family down. Fear of missing a once-in-a-lifetime shot. Fear of staying broke forever.
And that’s the thing about survival mode:
It leaves no room for planning.
No room for clarity.
No room for legacy.
And that’s all the more reason why wealth-building matters, not just for comfort, but for the freedom to be able to think straight.
5. In the End, Crime Never Pays. It Just Takes Everything
Efemini’s descent into cybercrime isn’t sudden. It’s a slippery slope paved with justifications: “It’s just for a little while.” “I’m only doing this for my family.” “I’ll stop once I’ve saved enough.”
But the thing with compromise is that it doesn’t come with a warning label. It just creeps in through cracks in your willpower until it becomes a lifestyle.
By the time Efemini realizes what he’d become, the damage had become irreversible.
He doesn’t just lose his wealth or social standing. He loses everything:
• His peace of mind
• His wife’s affection
• His family’s trust
• His older daughter’s admiration
• His own self-respect
In chasing a short-term fix, he sacrifices the very future he was trying to protect. And that’s the cruel irony: the thing he feared most, losing it all, is exactly what the fast money cost him.
The show doesn’t glamorize crime. It shows it for what it is: a trap. A slow poison. A deal with a price tag far higher than it first appears.
And in the end, there are no real wins. Just a lifetime of regret.
Final Thoughts
Whether you saw yourself in Efemini, or in how easily some people seem to move through life, To Kill a Monkey delivers one undeniable truth:
Not every bad choice comes from a bad heart. Sometimes, it comes from a life that offers no good options.
But even in that mess, there’s a chance to build. To change the ending. And to leave more than you started with.
You just need to care enough to try.
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